Tev wondered what this meeting was about as Soloman took a seat opposite him. With the captain to Tev’s right, Abramowitz to the captain’s right, and Faulwell to his left, they could commence.

The captain looked strained. Stretched thin. Just plain tired. Nothing showed in his voice, however, as he spoke.

“You called this meeting, Abramowitz. What have you dug up?”

Tev sniffed at her lack of preparedness; she took a whole four heartbeats to begin as she checked a few last notes on her pad.

“Actually quite a lot. Thanks to Soloman’s efforts, we’ve decoded most of that corrupted Archer file.” She nodded at Soloman, who managed to look slightly embarrassed at the praise. If he’d succeeded, why not take appropriate credit?

“It was a simple matter, Captain,” Soloman began in his strange cadence. “After Carol met with the Resaurians, I spoke with her at some length to extract additional information that can only be synthesized in a face-to-face interaction.” He nodded right back at Carol, bestowing mutual credit. “Once I had those additional data bytes, I constructed a new set of algorithmic search patterns and set it to work on the corrupted files. Once I’d extracted the first bytes and reincorporated them into the search parameters, the rest quickly fell into place, building a cohesive whole. Carol simply took that information and distilled it into what we have now.”

“Enough with the back-patting already,” Gold said with a tired smile. “Get on with it.”

Abramowitz cleared her throat. “Yes, Captain. What we appear to have is a race that is steeped in tradition; traditions hold more importance than law. In fact, most traditions become laws by default. They are slow to develop and slow to adapt. Nevertheless, a progressive faction appears every few centuries and the Resaurians suddenly leap forward in their development: culturally, scientifically, technologically—really across the board. However, this doesn’t last long. As a natural equilibrium reinstates itself, the progressive faction simply dissolves as their goals come to fruition and then centuries of slow, almost torporlike progression begins again.”

“Okay, but how does that help us? That’s a fine history lesson and we might use it to our advantage, but I’m not sure what that has to do with the station or our current predicament.” For the first time that Tev could remember, Gold actually sounded slightly annoyed.

“I was getting to that, Captain,” Abramowitz responded, speeding up her delivery. “This cycle progressed for who knows how many centuries. Until the Klingons.”

Everyone, except Soloman, leaned back slightly as though that were the answer to everything. How many times had the Klingons been the problem? Tev could name numerous instances where he’d personally been involved in Klingon problems, much less history in general.

Abramowitz nodded her head and continued. “The Klingons practically enslaved the Resaurians for decades—I can’t tell for sure how long, unfortunately, but enough time to thoroughly alter their society. When the Klingons departed, they left a hole that apparently was filled by another progressive faction. However, as upheavals tore at the very fabric of the Resaurian society, progress in sciences and technologies, most of it gleaned from the Klingons during their occupation and taken from their castoffs, spiraled out of control, advancing beyond the attendant advances of culture and the moral fiber to know how to deal with such technology.”

Tev leaned forward to place meaty palms onto the table, finally able to join the conversation. “This progressive faction, so enamored of technology, did not dissipate as had occurred previously. This required the traditionalists to finally rise up and remove them from power?”

Abramowitz stared, chagrined, at Tev. She was not the only person to study societal behavior. Dealing with bizarre alien species such as humans, Cardassians, and Ferengi had forced him to such lengths, even if it was simply a small side hobby. It had neither the clean lines nor the pure form of engineering and mathematics, but the probabilities study of a sentient race’s reactions to stimulation could be interesting in its own right.

“That’s right, Tev. That’s exactly right.” She turned to look at the rest of those present, as though to assure herself she’d not been the only one to hear his words. He’d be offended if Abramowitz wasn’t so far beneath his station.

“For perhaps the first time in Resaurian history, a violent overthrow of a movement occurred.” She paused, as though done with her recitation. “After that, well, it would all be conjecture. I’ve no idea what occurred with the progressive faction, or how the traditionalists dealt with something so unprecedented. More importantly, I’ve no idea if the Resaurians found their equilibrium again, or whether the imprint of the Klingons was simply too powerful and the appearance of the progressive faction occurs more frequently and with more violence than before.”

The captain finally leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and ran his hands back through his hair before raising bloodshot eyes to the room.

“Which still doesn’t answer our question of why they’ve been so open,” Gold said. “If everything you say is true, then our first impression should’ve been correct. They should be adamantly opposed to encountering new species.”

Faulwell finally spoke up. “Could this Sha’a you met be a part of the progressive faction? Perhaps they’ve turned up once more.”

The captain shook his head. “No. Of course, it’s hard to read the Resaurians, but if ever I saw a traditionalist, Sha’a was it. S’linth, the captain, might be something different, but it looked to me like Sha’a is calling all the shots.”

“What if—”

“Captain, this is the bridge.”

Tev snuffled—he hated being interrupted.

“Gold here.”

“Captain, we’re receiving a message from Commander Gomez.”