What Judgments Come

“Certainly, Senator,” Moreno replied, his words tinged with pronounced sincerity. He passed through the doorway, and D’tran waited for the door to close before allowing his smile to widen. “Youth. It is wasted on the young.”

Now free to laugh, Jetanien released a string of clicks and chirps as he indicated a chair in front of his desk for the elderly Romulan. “You enjoy that sort of thing, don’t you?”

“I’m only sorry I won’t be there to see his reaction when S’anra actually does mention it,” D’tran replied as he settled into one of two upholstered leather armchairs positioned before Jetanien’s desk. “She takes her duties quite seriously.”

“As do we all,” Jetanien said. “And to that end, thank you for joining me this evening. I think it’s important for the three of us to make a joint appearance at the festival. I like what that show of unity represents to our population.”

A scowl flashed across D’tran’s face and faded away just as quickly. “I’m happy to do so, and if our Klingon counterpart had any sense of punctuality, we could get on with this.”

“I imagine he’ll be along shortly,” Jetanien said.

D’tran shrugged. “I believe he’s been the last to arrive at nearly every meeting we’ve ever held.”

“I would go so far as to say Lugok has, without exception, been late to each and every meeting, Senator,” Jetanien said. “He’s very deliberate about it.”

“That kind of posturing seems u

“You realize that he does this because of you.”

“Me?” D’tran looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“Well,” the ambassador said, “you did keep us waiting on this rather forsaken planet for more than three months. Lugok once told me that he was pla

D’tran paused as though mulling over what he had just heard, his expression all but unreadable. The Romulan then offered a slight nod, as though to himself, before shifting once more in his seat. “Lugok is a passionate Klingon, though I fear I’ll never be able to predict the targets of his enthusiasm. I exhibited similar exuberance in my younger days, Ambassador, and perhaps it’s my penance for that unbridled zeal that I’m here, undertaking this crusade of yours.”

Jetanien offered a soft, polite laugh in reply, even if he took issue with his friend’s observations. He certainly did not regard his assignment to Nimbus III as retribution for any impetuous behavior in his past. “Come now, Senator. We’ve had our share of hardships in getting Paradise City established, but surely you now can see that our efforts are bearing very promising fruit.”

That he and D’tran along with Klingon ambassador Lugok had successfully negotiated terms for the colony’s construction and operation, let alone that they even had won support for their proposal from their respective governments, still seemed almost incomprehensible to Jetanien whenever he allowed himself pause to consider the events of these past months. Extended negotiations, which had stemmed from the trio’s first clandestine meeting, were the easy part, he thought. Lugok had already benefited from peaceful coexistence during their shared tenures aboard Starbase 47, and that appreciation for cooperative ventures had continued to grow even in the wake of the Organian Peace Treaty. The two diplomats had used that chemistry to work together in convincing Senator D’tran to secure a Romulan commitment toward the test venture on Nimbus III, their arguments matching the veteran senator’s progressive views on diplomatic relations with interstellar powers. That outlook had served D’tran for several decades, dating back to his role in ending the Earth-Romulan War and helping to draft a peace treaty that had remained unbroken during the intervening century.

The subsequent discussions with the diplomats’ respective governments that led to the Nimbus III proposal’s acceptance were nothing short of landmark, at least in Jetanien’s opinion. However, his counterparts had made him privy to precious few details of those negotiations, offering no insight as to how protracted or heated their talks had been, or what personal favors had been promised or exacted in order to secure the needed support. True to form, Lugok complained about his having to exert additional effort with the Klingon High Council, but Jetanien was painfully aware of his propensity to complain about laying out any effort in general. The closest D’tran ever came to discussing his own process was to say that his fellow senators were long used to his grand ideas, and this one simply must have caught them all in a particularly generous and tolerant mood.

Jetanien found that his own challenges had come not in wi

Since returning to the planet, the colony had been the sole focus of Jetanien’s focus and energy. While the plans he had formulated with his fellow diplomats had met with skepticism so far as their content was concerned, he had encountered little resistance to the process by which it would be accomplished. Tenets of the settlement’s cooperative foundation and operation as developed by him and his fellow diplomats were approved, with one caveat. Out of concern for security during the proposal’s initial discussions, one member of the Federation negotiating team insisted that Nimbus III’s location not be discussed openly. In its stead was offered a more inspirational and vague moniker: the Planet of Galactic Peace. To this day, Jetanien remained unsure as to the accuracy of the name, but it had certainly stuck.

With negotiations complete, progress from arid flatlands to habitable colony owed much to the ample resources committed to the project by the governments involved. The central population center’s basic infrastructure was constructed by support specialists in a matter of weeks, complete with roadways, utilities, and the begi

“We have come a long way since that fateful first meeting, Jetanien,” D’tran said, “and had the spacecraft which initially carried me here only been capable of a faster speed, perhaps Ambassador Lugok might have joined us by now.”

Jetanien laughed again. “I’m going to regret mentioning that, aren’t I?”

“I will not speak of it again,” D’tran countered, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “That said, I may not be as concerned with my own punctuality from this point forward.”