“Captain’s log stardate seven-eight-nine-nine-nine. The Orion has spent the past six days in high orbit of Virella, observing the planet’s three dominant nations as they race toward their first steps into interplanetary space. The Selvarians, Arvans, and Iskari are each vying for control of the moon Terros, an M-class satellite orbiting the gas giant Narvol. Although these nations share a fragile peace, tensions remain high as all three push forward with their crewed space programs.

After careful deliberation, I have authorised an away mission to Selvar’s capital. The Selvarians appear to be ahead of this space race, so it makes sense to start there. As the Virellans resemble most humanoid species, aside from their striking green eyes and the custom of wearing jewellery to denote national identity, the away team has required minimal surgical alteration. Commander Saval is leading the team with Lieutenant Commander Kulucis, Counsellor Coralia, Lieutenant Anderson, and Ensign Bollwyn. Their objective is to study the Selvarian space program further and the upcoming launch of their vessel, aptly named Horizon.

It is paramount that we avoid any cultural contamination. This society is on the verge of a technological leap, and even the slightest misstep could irrevocably alter their natural development.” 

The air was electric, thrumming with excitement and swelling national pride. Deep blue and silver banners stretched across tall poles, their edges fluttering in the breeze like rippling waves. A soft hum of music drifted from hidden speakers along the plaza, punctuated by cheers as the Horizon crew took to the stage. The spaceship itself loomed in the distance, sleek and polished, its sharp contours highlighted by the afternoon sun.

The away team moved with the crowd, careful not to draw attention. Their Selvarian disguises blended perfectly — diamond-encrusted earrings adorned the top of their lobes, marking them as locals. Anderson glanced down at the thin silver chain hooked around his neck, resisting the urge to adjust it. Kulucis had quickly joked about how it “suited him” during their beam-in. A remark that Anderson had smirked at before Saval had told the transporter chief to energise.

“Quite the turnout,” Anderson said quietly as they pushed further into the crowd. His tone was light, but his eyes stayed alert. He was worried about keeping their identities hidden from the locals, but on the other hand, he was also enjoying discovering a new culture up close. 

Kulucis agreed with Anderson’s remarks. “The people here are fully invested. This launch means everything to them.”

“History from many cultures has shown that sometimes national pride can be dangerous. The emotional attachment is what makes this delicate,” Saval replied, his deep voice calm yet focused. “Progress and ambition often distinguish between triumph and tragedy. I have never come to understand the logic of why a large group of people can become obsessed with such identities.”

“Pride,” Coralia responded bluntly. “Many civilisations throughout history share similar traits, including Vulcan, around the pride people take in historical events that change their society for good.”

“Is that from your own account, counsellor or psychological research?” Kulucis asked the Lanthanite.

“Both,” She answered as flatly as she had with Saval seconds ago.

Kulucis gave a slight nod, his sharp eyes scanning the stage. “Well, there’s plenty of pride here. If this launch goes wrong, Selvar might not recover.”

Anderson smirked. “Always the optimist, Commander.”

Before Kulucis could reply, a round of applause erupted. A tall Selvarian woman dressed in a crisp grey flight suit stepped to the podium. She was introduced as the captain and mission leader of the Horizon. Her voice, smooth and confident, resonated over the speakers.

“In three days’ time, Selvar will make history,” Resven declared, her words stirring the crowd. “The Horizon will carry my crew and me beyond the skies to Terros. And with it, Selvar will take the first step into a new age of prosperity! We will be a nation reborn, leading our world to prosperity on Terros!”

The thunderous cheer that followed was enough to rattle the chest.

“Impressive public speaking,” Coralia observed softly. “She knows how to inspire hope.”

“She also knows how to command loyalty,” Kulucis added, watching the crowd’s adoration as the woman continued with her speech. “That could be dangerous if this launch fails.”

Anderson glanced toward him. He was starting to wonder why Kulucis was focussing on the negative here. Feeling they needed to do something more productive and positive, he cleared his throat. “Think we can get a closer look at the ship? Public tours can be informative.”

Saval turned slightly, his brow lifting. It looked different compared to other times he lifted it. His arched Vulcan eyebrows were no longer apparent. Instead, they were softly curled like Anderson’s. “Lieutenant, I trust your… persuasive talents can arrange that?”

Anderson appreciated his superior’s vote of confidence and flashed a grin. “Give me five minutes,” he said.

Anderson approached a nearby security officer. In fluent Selvarian, he struck up a conversation, gesturing subtly toward the launch platform. A few minutes later, he returned, his grin even wider.

“We’re in,” he announced. “Public tour of the launch site starts in twenty minutes. I may have implied we were engineers visiting from one of Selvar’s outer provinces.”

Kulucis arched an eyebrow. “Remind me to add deception to your next performance review.”

Anderson’s grin didn’t waver. “You can’t review what you can’t prove, sir.”

The hover cart glided silently across the paved ground, passing under massive structural beams and launch gantries that towered like monoliths. Models of old rocket designs lined the walkway alongside statues dedicated to Selvar’s early astronomers and scientists.

Sat between Anderson and Kulucis, Bollwyn subtly scanned the area with her tricorder as the cart approached the Horizon. The space vessel’s silver hull stretched high into the sky, flanked by massive scaffolding. It was a beautiful yet intimidating sight. Anderson was remembering his time as a child visiting many of the old space museums on Earth. Everything before him was reminiscent of Earth’s early space programs. The faint reflection of the sun gleamed off the nose cone.

“Our engineers have spared no effort in constructing the Horizon,” the tour guide declared proudly. “It represents the pinnacle of Selvarian engineering, designed to withstand the conditions of Terros.”

Bollwyn’s eyes narrowed slightly as she adjusted the tricorder in her lap. Anderson caught the faint crease in her brow.

“Something wrong?” he asked softly.

“Not sure yet,” she replied, keeping her gaze forward as the scanner continued its quiet work. “But the frame’s readings… they aren’t matching up to the specs the guide is listing.”

Anderson gave Kulucis a concerned look at that news. As Kuluci’s expression hardened, he discreetly told the young ensign to keep scanning. 

“Let’s take a look later,” Kulucis whispered at the two junior officers. 

The tour eventually concluded with a visit to the launch centre’s museum and public gallery. The away team had separated, blending in as they left the facility. Kulucis, Anderson, and Bollwyn gathered beneath a tree-lined park a block away, sitting on a wide stone bench shaped like a crescent.

Bollwyn placed her tricorder on the table between them, displaying structural schematics of the Horizon. The data flickered as she ran simulations.

“These are the results of my scans,” she said quietly, angling the display toward Kulucis and Anderson. “The hull’s integrity is compromised in several places. If they try to re-enter Terros’s atmosphere, the stress could tear the ship apart.”

Kulucis leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he reviewed the simulation. The virtual model of the Horizon fractured during descent, breaking apart in a cloud of debris.

“Forty-eight per cent failure rate,” she concluded. “Even with optimal conditions, it’s risky.”

Anderson exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “That’s too close for comfort. We have to report this. At least tell the captain.”

Kulucis leaned back against the bench, folding his arms. “You know what she will say. We can’t interfere directly. We can’t pass this information along without violating the Prime Directive. We’re here to study and watch. That’s it.”

Anderson knew his superior was right. It was the most frustrating part of their job, but he understood why. He sighed heavily as he rubbed his temple. Before they could discuss the matter further, Saval and Coralia returned, balancing trays of local food. They paused, sensing the tension lingering over the table.

“What is wrong?” Saval asked, his gaze shifting between them.

Kulucis gestured to the tricorder. “Sit down, sir. We have something to share with you.”