Even as a telepath, Leander Nune couldn’t make sense of Yuulik’s emotional state. As he weaved his way through the waystation’s warren of interconnected hallways, Yuulik’s gait was secure and unhurried. Typically, she was laser-focused in her thoughts, yet Nune’s Betazoid perception experienced her as roiling fireworks behind her mask of calm.

“Don’t start this again,” Nune said to her. He took shorter steps, and Yuulik followed suit. Captain Rattler’s lead ahead of them grew even longer, as they chose not to keep pace with her.

Looking right at Yuulik, Nune said, “You avoided me all night at the banquet, but now you want to start this up five minutes before Rattler wants me to take the lead? Let’s be serious. You don’t honestly want to raise a baby with me.”

“We have to. It’s our only choice,” Yuulik countered. She raised her voice to be heard over a general intercom announcement. “You said it yourself: our friendship is drifting apart.”

Scoffing at that, Nune sarcastically said, “And having babies saves relationships all the time.” He shook his head. “I was never blaming you, Yuulik. All relationships go through ebbs and flows. Talking about it is the first step. Maybe we take a second step, but co-parenting is more like step four-hundred.”

“Think about it,” Yuulik said. “Raising a child would give us a common purpose. A project to work on together that will challenge us, enrich us, and force us to grow. We can’t be androids trapped in a centuries-old war. Leander, you spent the past year hiding in a corner of the science labs to explore a life outside your career. You can choose a life of meaning again.”

As a group of raucous Talaxians ploughed through the middle of the corridor, Nune hedged closer to the wall, and Yuulik followed him. Nune shook his head at Yuulik silently until they passed.

Nune objected, “Our lives are not a science experiment. You can’t restructure a friendship like you would a research design.”

“This isn’t about a plan,” Yuulik hissed back exasperatedly.

“What, then?” Nune asked. “Is this about Addie?”

Yuulik raised a palm of surrender. “Don’t do that.”

“We’ve spent the past week negotiating with androids who were motivated to violence over their inability to procreate,” Nune remarked. “That would naturally bring up regrets about the synth child you tried to raise.”

Yuulik shook her head, but didn’t say anything. She jogged ahead of him to catch up to Rattler.

“–Vaadwaur’s imperialist expansion threatens all civilisations,” Nune said, “regardless of our biological or synthetic origins. I respect your desire for autonomy and isolation in your…” –he hesitated before saying genocidal war, and instead only said– “stated purpose.”

Automated Commander 74 didn’t respond immediately. He stood silently and perfectly still. Every Automated Personnel Unit in the room stood silently and still.

Nune studied the Pralor battleship commander for even the subtlest of body language. However, AC-74 possessed no recognisable thought process to be detected by Nune’s telepathy, and his face was an immobile metal mask. Even the shadows cast by the harsh overhead lighting seemed more expressive than AC-74’s face. Nune felt motivated to offer shorter statements because it became impossible to guess how the longer speeches were being received. Warp cores were easier to read, and they weren’t even anthropomorphic.

Unable to wait anymore, Nune looked to Rattler to gauge her assessment, but her level of tension made it difficult to untangle and parse out the meaning.

“Automated Commander Seventy-Four has received a communique from the Pralor first core,” AC-74 said. “The Builders wrote of exchanges with the Vaadwaur long before our creation. They wrote of the Vaadwaur attempting to mislead them, offering items of inflated value in exchange for precious resources. The Builders saw through them.”

Moving towards that common ground, Nune said, “More evidence of the Vaadwaur’s deception. By joining us now, the Pralor can re-establish your desired interstellar relationships in the vacuum left by the Vaadwaur’s machinations. You can return to your isolation or move forward with new allies.”

AC-74 clasped his hands behind his back. “Automated Commander Seventy Four is authorised to lead a battlegroup against the Vaadwaur. The Pralor do not seek allies. We act to prevent any further Vaadwaur deception. The Pralor also request an exchange with Starfleet. Additional battlegroups can be assigned if Starfleet promises no aid to the Cravic. The Vaadwaur must be allowed to conquer the Cravic.”

“Automated Commander,” Rattler interjected, “That wasn’t the deal.”

“It does not require negotiation,” AC-74 intoned emotionlessly. “You have spoken of your prime directive. Your policy of non-interference. Starfleet has existing connectors with the Pralor. The Cravic have only been aggressors to the Pralor and Starfleet. Maintain the balance. Do not interfere with the Cravic, or negotiations will end.”