fic for gomushroom (2/6)

[nino-mod.livejournal.com]

For: gomushroom
From: 64907

Part 1


Since Jun wasn’t able to report the interesting bits of the diplomatic visit to the Union, he apparently made up for it by informing certain people of what happened.

Aside from the original party which included Jun’s bodyguards, it seems now that Aiba Masaki is aware of what transpired on the planet, and Nino’s sure no one would’ve told him except Jun.

He confirms it when Aiba slides into the seat beside him in the mess hall, an arm immediately wrapping around his shoulders.

“How’s married life so far, Nino?” Aiba asks, direct as ever.

“Fantastic,” Nino answers sarcastically, but since Aiba is Aiba, he just giggles. “Flourishing. Look at me. My skin is smooth and glowing. I’ve never looked better. Before the year ends I’m going to have glorious babies who can’t smile at all.”

Aiba’s laughing so much he’s actually tearing up. “Oh don’t let Sho-chan hear you. He gave me this really scary look that time I asked him about it.”

Nino’s actually impressed that Aiba went to tease Sakurai about it first, but then again, Aiba seems to have a knack for doing the unexpected. “So now you’re bugging me? Who told you about it anyway?”

Aiba grins, broad and lively. “I’ve been hearing things so I confirmed it with Jun-chan. He also told me to tell you not to go anywhere near security. He said he’s pretty sure Nagase-kun and Matsu-nii already talked about it to certain people. You know how fast word here travels. It’s such a small ship!”

Great, Nino thinks with a pained groan. Now nearly everyone in Jun’s peace envoy knows he’s married to Sakurai. The next few months should be eventful.

“If I get one question about whether I’m a Sakurai now or if that uptight secretary is now a Ninomiya, send my apologies to Jun-kun because I’m going to airlock whoever it is that asks,” Nino says. “It’s going to be worth it.”

“Sho-chan sure doesn’t look like a Ninomiya. But hey, you’re not a Sakurai then?” Aiba asks innocently, but there is this glint in his eyes and Nino reaches out to flick his forehead.

Aiba only laughs more as he strokes the reddening skin.

“Airlock, I’m telling you. Airlock,” Nino threatens, his fork hitting his plate with a decisive clink.

Aiba just keeps smiling. “You can’t airlock me,” he says with confidence, huffs of laughter still escaping his mouth. “I know this ship better than you do, Nino. You have to come up with a bigger threat if you want to scare me. But really, no matter what you try, I’m not going to be scared. You’re not Jun-chan.”

Nino had a feeling Aiba would say something like that. He looks at the pilot, studying his face. “You talked to Sakurai first before you came to bug me, right?”

Aiba hums as a yes, his mouth full of the chicken he replicated earlier.

“How did my husband take that aside from giving you his meanest glare?”

That gets Aiba to spit out bits of chicken, eyes watery as he coughs and reaches for the nearest glass of water. Nino counts it as a victory.

When Aiba recovers, he’s chuckling. “Is that how you refer to him now?”

“I wouldn’t be lying, would I? I even said it to his face,” Nino brags, and Aiba’s clapping his hands. He looks so amused and so proud on Nino’s behalf. “I’ll have you know he immediately ended the holo when I said that.”

“You’re certainly taking it better than he is then,” Aiba says, shaking his head in delight.

Nino’s reply to that is cut short when the intercom in the cafeteria beeps, a female voice calling Aiba to the bridge.

“Ah crap, that’s definitely the solar storm problem,” Aiba says, hastily wiping his hands and mouth with a napkin. “Most annoying things in the universe, if you ask me. Say, can you bring my tray when you return yours? I got to go.”

Nino shoos him away. “Go and save us lesser mortals, Aiba-shi.”

Aiba flashes him a big smile and pats his shoulder twice, a little forceful that it makes Nino wince. Aiba stands and leaves, jogging a little to get to the bridge faster. Nino watches his figure scurry away until he turns the corner and finally disappears.

He turns back to his replicated chicken katsu and stares at it for a moment before finally deciding he can’t finish it. Not when he can only taste the oil and the bread crumbs.

“Is this seat taken?”

He looks up, seeing Ohno’s curious face, his hands carrying a tray.

Just in time. Nino smiles and shakes his head. As soon as Ohno takes a seat in front of him, he points to his katsu. “This tastes nothing like chicken katsu, engineer.”

Ohno only eyes it for a short moment. “I never replicate anything fried because they’re no good.”

“You’re telling me this now?” Nino asks, unamused.

Ohno shrugs. “You had to find out for yourself.” Then he seems to remember something, because the next thing he does is to offer his palm to Nino. Nino frowns.

“Congratulations,” Ohno says, the corner of his lips twitching. “I heard that you’re a Sakurai now.”

Nino gives him a glare and squeezes his hand with enough force that it makes Ohno wince and try to extract himself, but Nino doesn’t let go until he’s sure he’s nearly crushing Ohno’s hand in his grip.

“Is that the talk on the engineering level? Thanks.” He grabs his tray (and Aiba’s too) and moves to leave. “And no, I think he’s the one who’s now a Ninomiya. You’ve been misinformed.”

Ohno’s still massaging his hand when he frowns at Nino. “Oh? That’s strange. I asked Sho-kun and he said you’re the one taking his family name.”

Nino’s jaw drops.

Ohno’s smiling now.

Nino spins on his heel without another word, crosses to the other side in three strides to dispose of their trays, and leaves the mess hall in search for Jun’s secretary.

That asshole.

--

The next five days on the ship are pretty eventful for Nino. He keeps receiving congratulations left and right, some even offering to throw a party for him (and his husband, of course), and some even asking to be groomsmen should they choose to have a formal ceremony on Earth.

Nino shudders at the mere thought of it.

To add to his annoyance, he never finds the time to corner Sakurai for what he told Ohno. The secretary sticks with his boss the entire time, and Jun, naturally, has other things to worry about than the marriage blues of his translators. The only relief in these days is that Nino knows that Sakurai is receiving similar attention. Despite being around his boss nearly every hour of the day and night cycles, Nino is positive Jun is firing the jokes every time he has the chance.

Some days later sees them preparing for the rendezvous with the Zuran royal vessel inside Jun's private office. The original away team is gathered (him, Jun, Sakurai, and Jun’s two bodyguards, Nagase and Matsuoka), but Aiba is also present on Jun’s insistence that he must be informed of the schedule.

Nino believes Jun only wants an ally in case he cracks a joke.

When he sneaks a glance at Sakurai, he reckons Sakurai believes the same.

They both keep giving Jun distrustful looks every time he pauses, but Jun isn’t the slightest bit distracted. He outlines every part of the mission to all of them in a concise manner, expressing what he wants and what he expects from all of them.

Sakurai supplements his explanations every now and then, and together they seem to form an efficient duo, capable of accomplishing anything the Union would ask of them. Jun relies on his secretary, yes, but he doesn’t rely on him for everything, contrary to what he made Nino believe on the observation deck. Jun knows what he wants, but his methods are too direct sometimes.

That’s what Sakurai is for; he’s the one who gives Jun suggestions, a different approach but with similar results. Their dynamic is interesting to observe when they’re both focused on the task, because despite being younger than him, it is clear that Sakurai respects Jun. Sakurai doesn’t presume—he lets Jun decide on what to do.

“Do you have any questions?” Jun asks patiently. His distinct features give him an expressive face, and it only took Nino a few days in his company to learn how to read him accurately.

They all shake their heads, and Jun lets out a sigh of relief. “It may seem too much—”

“With all due respect, Ambassador, but nothing is easily achievable with you and we’re used to that,” Nagase says, cutting him off.

Jun cracks a smile at that, bright and amused. “And yet you’re all still here, working for me.”

“That’s because the salary is high,” Aiba jokingly remarks, and it earns a laugh from all of them. Even Sakurai isn’t able to stifle a chuckle, much to Nino’s astonishment.

He can laugh. Nino takes a moment to wrap his head around that fact. He can laugh.

When Nino directs his gaze back at Jun, he finds Jun looking right at him.

Then Jun’s face breaks into a knowing smile. Nino waits for him to say something, dares Jun with his eyes even, but instead Jun says, “Then I expect to see you earn that salary, Masaki. Keep up the good work along with everybody else.”

They all nod at that, and Jun waves his hands. “Dismissed. We’ll be in contact with the Zuran monarch in two and a half hours, and I’ll see you all on the bridge by then.”

Nino moves to leave, but Jun stops him with a raised hand. “How’s your Zuran?”

Nino waits until it’s only the three of them remaining in Jun’s office. “Fine.”

“He’s fluent,” Sakurai says, and when Jun raises an eyebrow for confirmation, Nino inclines his head in affirmation.

Jun takes a deep breath, nods to himself. “Very well. Nino, you’ll be my primary translator this time.”

Nino’s eyes go wide, and he’s certain his shock is also mirrored on Sakurai’s face.

“Jun-kun...I—”

“You’re here to translate for me, yes?” Jun asks, using his ‘I’m asking you’ voice that Nino only heard once, back when a crewman failed to report to him on time. Nino ended up comforting that kid in the mess hall.

“Yes,” Nino answers. He looks at Sakurai, his round face still in shock. “But isn’t he—”

“Sho-kun can use a break,” Jun says, cutting him off immediately. Jun turns to look at his secretary. “You did well on Ilari. I couldn’t have negotiated that without you.” Jun’s attention shifts back to Nino. “Show me that I hired you for this. That I chose you for no other reason than this.”

Nino shuts his eyes. No other reason, he said. Perhaps he could believe in it: he’s here to help Jun out to the best of his ability. He’s not coming back.

He repeats it in his head. He’s not here to go back. There’s nowhere to go back to. He can only move forward. He’s not coming back.

It takes him a few beats, but then he stands and bows, lowering half of his body. “I am grateful for the privilege, Ambassador, and I will try not to disappoint.”

“You’ll do more than try,” Jun tells him.

Nino’s feeling it now. Jun is a difficult man to work for, but he doesn’t push his people unnecessarily.

Nino needs this.

He straightens up and meets Jun’s eyes with determination. “I will not disappoint.”

Jun’s lips quirk up. “I’ll see you on the bridge in two hours and a half.”

Nino shoots one look at Sakurai, finding his face impassive.

Considering himself dismissed, he takes his leave.

--

Nino hasn’t been nervous for far too long. Nerves simply don’t claim him as often as he would’ve expected. They used to be an extension of him. Before his first space travel, he’d been bullied. Children, he found out, could be crueler than any of the monsters he feared lived under his bed. Every time he’d see those mean boys who did nothing but taunt, laugh, and mock him, he’d get nervous—heart hammering, palms sweating, knees shaking. He’d quake where he stood. Every part of him wanted to bolt.

But when he went back to Earth after, it was as if he had completely lost the ability to feel that way.

Standing on the bridge and watching their ship trajectory get closer to the meetup point in the navigation screens, he can feel tiny tendrils that creep up his fingers, making them twitch at his sides. Nerves, perhaps. He can’t tell. He isn’t cold. The thermal regulator is functioning adequately, and the temperature is at what humans would consider cool.

He’s warm and yet parts of him twitch in place. He doesn’t understand.

Perhaps it was one of those things taken away from me, he thinks. Aside from my youth. Odd that they’re coming back now, if they’re what I think they are.

Aiba announces via the comms that they are fifteen minutes away from the rendezvous site. Nino blinks at the navigation screen where the ship is represented as a blinking dot moving closer to a bigger dot. Target destination. People he ought to speak to and hold his head high. Fifteen minutes away.

His fingers twitch once more. Involuntarily. He’s glad nobody can see it.

When Jun enters the bridge, Nino only notices because the officers on duty stand at attention. Behind Jun stands Sakurai, who doesn’t meet Nino’s eyes. He seems fixated on a corner of the viewscreens.

“At ease,” Jun says, and the bridge crew resume their tasks.

Nino makes his way to them. He stands on Jun’s left this time, only a couple of centimeters back. He ought to get used to this. He will be whispering in Jun’s ear for as long as this diplomatic visit lasts.

“Distance to the royal vessel?” Jun asks, his posture impeccably straight. Nino didn’t see him calm himself like he did on the shuttle. He must’ve done that before he appeared on the bridge.

“Ten minutes, Ambassador,” comes Aiba’s reply.

Jun simply nods. He stalks towards the viewscreens, watching the stars leave infinite trails of white and blue as they continue their travel to hyperspace. Nino keeps a two-step distance, and when he checks, he sees that Sakurai is the same.

“I never understood hyperspace,” Jun tells them, or anyone who’s listening, which is everyone. Nino can’t tell who it is that he’s addressing. He’s using his Ambassador voice, the one that beckons people to pay attention. “The science of it, I mean. One minute you’re home, the next, you’re not. And yet it doesn’t take us the same amount of time to reach a place. You never end up in the same place either despite entering the same coordinates. Always a few angles away from your last position. But who’s to notice, right?”

“Hyperspace has its limits,” Sakurai says, as if he’s used to Jun’s musings. He must be, now that Nino considers it. “Just like everything else.”

“I wanted to be an engineer,” Jun says, laughing a little. He’s speaking quietly now, addressing only the two of them beside him. There’s enough noise from the equipment to mask what Jun is saying. “I wanted to understand these lines when I first saw them.” His hand reaches out to trace the marks left by the stars as they get closer to their destination. “But I guess I was never meant to.”

“And do you believe that?” Nino asks as politely and as quietly as he can manage. Sakurai frowns at him, but he ignores it. He might be insolent, but this talk is soothing to him. “That you’re meant for what you’re doing now?”

Jun blinks. “We all have our own place. That’s what I believe.” Jun’s eyes move to his, and Nino can tell what he’s thinking. He has seen that look in the eyes of many, even before Jun.

It’s what you don’t believe in. The look Jun is giving him is not accusatory, merely being factual.

“Five minutes, Ambassador,” Aiba announces, saving Nino from replying. Nino doubts Aiba has knowledge of what they’re talking about. Aiba just has great timing, as always.

Jun nods in acknowledgement, turning away. When Nino sneaks a glance at Sakurai, he sees a frown there, though not directed at him. He seems lost in thought. Nino wonders if Sakurai would know if he ever considers telling him. How long was Sakurai in the Union?

No time to pick at scabs. He shakes his head, clears the sentiment away.

“Are you nervous?” Sakurai suddenly asks.

Nino catches Jun smiling a little, lips curling. It’s not mocking nor done out of amusement. It’s soft, devoid of judgment, instead full of understanding. Jun possesses a very expressive face, and Nino’s thankful for it.

He gives himself time to think about the question. “I don’t know.”

“Your hands tremble,” Sakurai notes. He doesn’t embarrass Nino by looking at Nino’s hands. He doesn’t need to, anyway. His observation hit the mark.

“Is that nervousness?” he asks, sincerely wanting to know. He hasn’t felt this in years. In a decade. More than that, even. “I don’t know what to call it.” Defensively, he clasps his hands together at his back, to stop them from twitching at his sides.

Aiba announces that they’re two minutes away, and Jun strides into position, standing at the center of the viewscreen. Nino moves to stand behind him at the same time Sakurai does, and as Aiba does a countdown, he grips his hand tighter to steel himself, prevent them from shaking involuntarily.

“If it’s any consolation,” Sakurai whispers, but loud enough that Nino can catch it, “I wouldn’t have agreed to marry someone incompetent.”

Nino’s eyes widen in his surprise, and he sees Jun smile, teeth bared. Turning to look at Sakurai, he sees nothing there but a collected expression, like he didn’t just say something encouraging at a crucial moment.

Aiba’s countdown ends, and in a blink, the Zuran royal vessel comes into view. It’s bigger than their spacecraft, more regal and less inconspicuous. It would be an easy target in a time of war.

Nino’s eyes narrow as he observes their ship move closer to the Zuran craft. This is why the Zurans welcomed an alien species to their hive. Their ship, one that houses the most influential leaders on their planet, is too extravagant. Too noticeable. If they have allies, they can sneak away their political leaders in another craft, something that would be less suspected.

A human transport ship, for instance.

Is that what they want, Nino wonders. He read the draft of the treaty yesterday in preparation, just as he did before Ilari. It wasn’t included, that the Union would offer refuge to monarchs once war breaks out. Earth is a potential war zone, as if the planet hadn’t seen too many wars in its time. But Nino supposes it isn’t far from what the Zurans will ask for. It’s a negotiation, and if Earth offers a safehouse, the treaty has higher chances of being accepted and signed by both parties.

He was never much for politics, but he understood the symbiosis of it, even when he was young. More so when he was young. He owes that skill to the colony, perhaps.

“There’s a transmission request, sir,” the officer at the helm announces. “It’s from the Zuran royal vessel.”

“Accept,” Jun commands, his posture perfect. Nino imitates it.

Within seconds, the face of the Zuran monarch appears all over the viewscreen.

Jun inclines his head, a gesture of polite greeting. “Greetings from the Union.”

Nino does his job, and they all watch as the monarch frowns. “Not from Earth?” the monarch asks, the golden circlet in her hair shining as she straightens in her seat.

Nino translates it for Jun, and he sees Jun grin. His Union-perfected one. “Earth is not the only planet that forms the Union, Your Majesty.”

Nino conveys this message to her, and she returns Jun’s smile, but not in the same intensity. Hers is more collected, more rehearsed, offering no dash of amusement, merely the slightest hint of politeness.

“Then I return the greeting, Ambassador. We’ve been expecting you. Our tractor awaits your shuttle whenever you are ready.”

On Jun’s other side, Sakurai does nothing but keep his face indifferent as Nino translates as accurately as he can for Jun. He’s listening intently though, that much Nino can tell. If Nino makes a mistake, he knows Sakurai will rectify it immediately.

“I wanted to greet you in person,” Jun says as an answer, and Nino stills. That wasn’t in the script. Sakurai briefed him about what Jun’s going to say an hour before the rendezvous by sending the information in Nino’s data pad. Nino crammed it all in his head, but he knows this isn’t anything like he read. “Your Majesty,” Jun adds as an afterthought.

Nino translates it for him, and they see her eyebrow quirking. Zurans are a humanoid species, almost human-like in fact, except for their purplish skin. Nino had read long ago that when they get angry, they turn to the color of prunes.

“I can see that, Ambassador.” Her answer was curt, and now she seems she’s wary of what Jun is going to say. “And I have returned your...sentiments. Unless you’re expecting something else?”

Before Nino opens his mouth, he sees the grin on Jun’s face and he knows Jun must have an inkling of what he’s about to interpret. He does it anyway, whispering it in Jun’s ear, as well as his question of “what are you doing, Jun-kun?”

“None of the sort,” Jun replies immediately. “We look forward to meeting you in person. My envoy is grateful for the hospitality.”

As soon as Nino conveys that part of the message, they only receive a nod from the monarch before the transmission ends, the viewscreen once more revealing the Zuran royal vessel parked right in front of their ship.

“What was that?” Nino asks again, once Jun left the bridge to head for the shuttles, Sakurai at their heels.

“She doesn’t trust us,” Jun says smoothly, striding in a graceful, calm manner. He appears to be in no hurry to meet the royal family. “I just wanted to see for myself.”

“The past war didn’t do that for you? History books and other holorecords didn’t?” Nino demands, and for the first time, he feels Sakurai’s hand on his elbow. Stopping him. Sakurai’s face looks deprecating, but Jun just continues to walk, unaware of what’s happening behind him, giving them no choice but to follow.

“On the contrary, I thought the past war would have made them more averse to this diplomatic meeting. And yet here we are, in their territory, the Union’s offer for diplomacy entertained, even accepted,” Jun says. They’re still a few levels away from the transport shuttle where Aiba awaits. Aiba left the bridge even before the transmission request was sent, and he awaits them in the hangar along with Jun’s bodyguards.

“So you just had to check if the Zurans still don’t trust us? Of course they don’t. Earth didn’t extend any help in their last civil war. They still take that to heart,” Nino tells him.

Jun hums. “Oh, but Zura wasn’t part of the Union when the war took place.” He smiles a bit. “Still isn’t a part of the Union even now, my apologies. I keep forgetting that the first contact failed.”

“And do you intend to let this fail too?” Nino asks, trying to shrug off Sakurai’s restricting hold on him. His grip is unrelenting.

“Ambassador, if he’s not ready—” Sakurai starts, but Jun lifts his hand to dismiss his concerns.

Then Jun turns around to face them both, his smile still in place. Nino can see the marks surrounding his mouth, stretched on the skin as he grins wider. “Nino,” Jun says.

“Yes?”

“You could’ve chosen not to translate what I said earlier.” Jun nods at Sakurai, and the grip on Nino’s elbow finally slackens. “You could’ve chosen not to translate it literally.”

Nino straightens. It’s suddenly difficult to look at Jun, but he doesn’t dare shy away. “Was that it? A test for me? To see if I can spin your words before it leads to potential misunderstanding?”

Jun tilts his head. “I was merely giving you a choice. However you view it is up to you.” He turns around and resumes walking towards the lifts. “Now we mustn’t keep them waiting. Not when Her Majesty thinks I’m up to something.”

But you are, Nino wants to hurl at him.

Instead he steps into the lifts that would take them to the shuttles without another word, the skin around his elbow burning as he recalled how tightly Sakurai held on to it. He must’ve known. Had Jun also tested Sakurai in this manner? Nino wouldn’t put it past him.

Jun wasn’t cruel, but he, once again, wasn’t lying to Nino when he said he was a hard man to work for.

Inside the lifts, Nino’s hands twitch at his sides and he shuts his eyes.

Nerves. He’s certain now.

--

The Zuran royal vessel smells too sweet for Nino’s liking, more than the air of any high-end establishment he’s been in. Like freshly harvested flowers pressed against animal fat to preserve their essence, permeating the surroundings with floral sweetness that lingers even in clothing. If it wouldn’t be rude, he would ask if they make pomades and perfumes here.

He resists the urge to scrunch his nose, waiting for his odor receptors to adapt. It takes him a few moments, but once they’re face to face with Her Majesty, the temptation for any part of his body to twitch dissipates.

Jun’s words ring in his head, and his contact memory is more active than he took it for; he can still remember how tightly Sakurai gripped him. The only time Sakurai Sho touched him on his own volition, and it was for his protection.

Not from Jun. From himself.

Nino forgets sometimes. That anger can get the best of him, of anyone really, if not channeled correctly. It amazes him that Sakurai has realized that. Nino wasn’t angry at Jun earlier, no, but he felt the tiny pinpricks of it. Hints. Dashes. If exposed to a bigger stimulus maybe he would’ve given in. He’s not volatile, but he doesn’t enjoy being perplexed. It’s like being thrown out of his element and he has enough experience of that occurring, much to his annoyance.

And yet Sakurai stopped him. Gripped him so tight even before he realized his voice started demanding Jun for answers. It was a simple matter of not being familiar with what he is supposed to do, and of course Sakurai understood. How can he not?

As they all stand in front of the Zuran monarch, Nino’s thoughts flit for a brief moment to Sakurai, at how perceptive he must be to have predicted Nino’s reaction. Did he act the same way once, perhaps when he was younger, with Jun even more so?

“I would appreciate if we could get to the matter at once,” Her Majesty says, and Nino snaps back at attention, mouth immediately moving to translate to standard. “We have no time for frivolities, Ambassador. I still have unaddressed concerns regarding this visit. I’m quite certain you’d agree with me on that.”

Nino pauses at that, wondering if he should translate the barely concealed insult. Jun is waiting, and when Nino sneaks a glance to Sakurai, Sakurai has his eyes on the monarch.

Nino decides to go for something simpler. “She says she wishes not to waste any more time.”

“Naturally,” is Jun’s smooth response. For a moment Nino wonders if Sakurai was lying and Jun actually understands Zuran, because his response is perfect despite Nino’s revision. But no. What would Sakurai Sho gain from lying? “If you would lead the way then, Majesty, to someplace private where we can begin?”

Nino doesn’t omit a word out of that request, though he made it sound as polite as he could. The monarch doesn’t look convinced that Jun phrased it that way, and Nino realizes that was his doing in the bridge earlier.

But, Nino considers, didn’t Jun do that at the risk of his reputation? He can’t figure out exactly why. Giving him choices, Jun said. A test then. From his employer.

He manages to shut off light conversations around them that don’t require participation as he ponders on Jun’s words. It hits him then, when they turn another corridor that has security doors guarding it. The sudden sweep of hydraulics felt like a douse of cold water.

No. Nino would shake his head and laugh, but it would alert people around him that he’s deep in thought as they make their way to a private conference room within the Zuran royal vessel.

It wasn’t a test. It isn’t.

It’s a challenge.

Certainly not the kind Nino expected. It wasn’t even presented in the manner that he expected. But he recognizes it for what it is, and he wants to prove himself, like always. He wants to rise from his mistake, do better, be better. It’s what he always did. His manner of adaptation and sublimation, so vastly different from merely channeling what he feels towards something else, have always manifested this way.

He will never be able to shake those off. Not when they took him this far.

The doors to the nearest function room hiss open, revealing a long table that has built-in holo screens. Jun nods at Sakurai who immediately gets to work: uploading the draft of the treaty in the drive so any concerned members can peruse it at their leisure.

Nino takes the seat beside Jun, who retains his air of friendliness. The Zurans certainly have their doubts over the visit—it’s evident in the fleeting glances thrown at the diplomatic party. They don’t maintain eye contact for too long, just long enough to be polite.

Trust is something they won’t easily give.

But that’s what they’re here for. It’s Nino’s job to make Jun as convincing as he is, perhaps even more so, for the Union to finally secure the allegiance of these people.

“I see no reason to delay any further, so if everyone would be so kind to read the first clause of the treaty along with its corresponding annotations, located at section III of the entire draft?” Jun asks, and Nino automatically translates it for him. “I would gladly entertain questions regarding each clause, but I ask that we stick first to the section we’re currently at so as to avoid confusion.”

The treaty is written in both Zuran and standard, prepared by the official translators of the Union and triple-checked by Sakurai Sho. Nino has little cause for doubt that anything would be lost in translation as he watches the Zuran royal council and monarch read every single line in the file, dissecting it for any hidden meanings.

Jun gives them five minutes before he clears his throat. “Any questions or clarifications?”

A petite woman with her hair swept back raises her hand, rings gleaming under the light. Sakurai immediately turns to whisper in Jun’s ear who she is and what her position in the council is. That remains his job even if Nino is the primary translator.

“I will be forthright with my query, Ambassador, if that is acceptable to you?” is the question, and Nino translates it as calmly as he can, despite knowing that something is being thrown their way.

Jun simply inclines his head in permission.

“The Union is facing the threat of intergalactic war at every turn. You are not the only peace envoy sent to distant, outer rim planets. The Delta Quadrant is too far from Earth, and yet, you dared to venture as far as this for allies. Zura remembers. Earth did nothing when civil war nearly destroyed the dynasty. And now Earth asks for allegiance from a race that they did not bother to lend aid to in time of their need?”

Her concern is perfectly understandable. Nino does his best to convey her question as accurately as possible to Jun, who doesn’t show any sign of surprise nor intimidation.

“If I may be so bold, Ambassador,” Nino says as a follow-up since he still has Jun’s attention, “their concerns are not unfounded for me.”

“As you have expressed before,” Jun acknowledges. “What would you tell her then, Nino, if you were in my place?”

He doesn’t dally. “I would acknowledge it. Earth played no part in their planetary civil war, that much is true.”

Jun nods. “Then go say that in their tongue.”

Nino sneaks one glance at Sakurai but the man only has his eyes in front of the council members. He definitely heard the conversation, and Nino wonders if Sakurai had been put in a similar situation before.

He does as Jun asked. “Earth remained a neutral party when the Zuran civil war happened, yes. And it is as you say, council member. The Union seeks allies at a time when every waking moment might be precursor to war.”

A balding, elderly Zuran raises his hand and Jun inclines his head in acceptance. The Zuran’s question is practically the same, expressing doubt and poorly concealed contempt for Earth’s decision not to ally with the dynasty before, but with a striking follow-up that almost makes Nino frown: “Why should we ally ourselves with Earth when they did nothing for us?”

The similarities are beginning to surface, he realizes. The doubts and concerns of a planet are almost akin to his own back then, from before. Different circumstances and yet almost the same questions.

He starts to understand why Jun thought he’d be perfect for the job. He can understand the Zurans well enough, more than just their language. What drives them to say what they say, their disbelief over an attempt at diplomacy.

Empathy is a powerful thing, and he had asked the same things before. Quite recently in fact, if he takes into consideration how long he’s been a part of Jun’s envoy.

He opens his mouth and translates the concern, and Jun lets out a soft smile. Nino can’t determine if that’s directed at him or at the situation.

“What do you want me to say?” he asks tentatively.

“What would you say?” Jun asks back, tilting his head a little to the side.

Nino would laugh if he could. “Did I just become the Ambassador?”

Jun’s expression betrays nothing. “I’m simply asking for an opinion.”

Nino’s gaze falls on Sakurai.

“We have talked extensively about it,” Jun says, pertaining to his assistant. “Even before I decided you were going to be my primary translator. I already know his views on the matter. Yours, I don’t. And I’m asking for them now.”

“I would say they’re not wrong to be so doubtful of us,” Nino answers finally.

Jun nods. “Then tell them that. And tell them that this is why the Union came in peace. The allegiance is not the immediate expectation should negotiations push through—it’s diplomacy. I am here to negotiate a treaty, not merely to ask them to sign it. I’m here for peace, and that remains unchanging.”

Clauses can be revised to suit everybody’s satisfaction, is basically what Jun is telling him. Nino knows this, of course, but he needed the reassurance. When they visited Ilari, allegiance was the main goal since the first contact with the planet ended well. The Zurans are not so foolish to not realize what the Union desires from them in the end, but as Jun said, that can come later.

Nino conveys as much to the council. They exchange looks and politely excuse themselves to discuss, and Jun grants it with only a smile and a nod.

“For the record,” Jun says as they relax a little and turn away to give the Zurans a bit of privacy despite their case, “your concerns matched Sho-kun’s in some parts.”

Nino doesn’t reply to that, uncertain of what Jun wants to hear.

“We’re still in the first section, Ambassador. There are bound to be more,” Sakurai says as a reminder.

“Of course there are. Wait until they get to the allegiance part. They will definitely ask for a revision, if an omission is not possible,” Nino says.

Jun turns to face him. “And why do you think they would want that part of the treaty to be omitted?”

There are two pairs of eyes on him now—Jun’s and his secretary’s—, watching him intently. Nino wets his lips. “Because we did nothing for them. Why should they give us what we need when we did nothing?”

“You think they hold a grudge against us,” Sakurai concludes.

“And you do not?” he asks, incredulous.

Jun is silent between them, his chin resting on his knuckles as he listens.

“I wouldn’t say it’s unexpected,” Sakurai says.

Nino’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t put it past them but you don’t think they do? That sounds a bit contradictory.”

“The difference between your perception and mine, Ninomiya-san,” Sakurai begins, “is that you are calling things as they are. I’m calling things as what I hope them to be.”

“Very Union-like, Sakurai-san, I’ll give you that. But that sort of idealism can only get us so far.”

“And what would you rather believe?” Sakurai asks him. “That the ultimate purpose of our visit won’t be granted because of a past resentment?”

Nino lets out a breath. “I believe that forgiveness is one thing. Trust is something we can’t gain overnight, not by behaving while we’re in their ship.”

Sakurai levels him with a look, like he’s seeing Nino’s point. There’s a surprising lack of judgment in there, but the curiosity feels a little intrusive and Nino has to turn away.

Jun straightens. “See why we need a third brain in this, Sho-kun?” He sounds pleased and smug.

Sakurai looks like he wants to roll his eyes but is restraining himself.

The Zuran council shuffle back to their seats, and this time, it’s the monarch herself who clears her throat. She becomes the sole focus of the meeting then, and she turns her eyes to Jun and inclines her head.

“Upon further deliberation with my trusted council, I have decided to push through with the negotiations. No more delays of any sort. I, however, will allow recesses provided that the Ambassador extends us the same courtesy.”

Nino leans closer to Jun to tell him about the development, and with one nod of Jun’s head, he faces the monarch once more. “The Ambassador is agreeable, Your Majesty.”

Her lips upturn to the barest hints of a smile. “Then I propose we proceed to the concerns of everyone in this room. The sooner we have settled such an important matter, the better. It will allow us to proceed with ease in the succeeding days.” She earns murmurs of agreement as she waits for Nino to convey this to Jun.

“We can say no,” Nino adds, making it look like he’s still translating. “Go by the book because that’s what we always do.”

Jun gives a thoughtful hum. “Tell her I accept.”

Nino would never understand Jun, but he does what he’s told.

As soon as the last word left Nino’s lips, the Zurans move to the last section of the draft, flicking their fingers over their data pads. It’s Sakurai who does the turning for Jun, mumbling a quiet “excuse me” as he leans over and manipulates the data pad.

Jun keeps his eyes fixed on the members of the council, his expression composed with hints of friendliness. He seems ready, but the apprehension over his capabilities stem from his youth. Every council member in front of them is, in Nino’s estimate, over 70 Earth years of age. Zurans have a longer lifespan than humans, and from what Nino can recall from his rushed readings of three cycles ago, their age is determined according to how many dynasties they’ve lived in.

Her Majesty is the forty-second monarch of the Zuran royal bloodline, and to Nino’s knowledge, the oldest council member has seen twenty rulers come and go, which makes him younger than Jun regardless of the lack of similar standards.

But they clearly see Jun as someone younger and youth automatically denotes inexperience. Perhaps they’re thinking of cornering them to an eventual omission of a particular clause. Nino can only hope Jun knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Allegiance is, as you have likely surmised, our primary concern. A good portion of my council believes we can compromise on most things but not on this particular part of the treaty. A small portion, however, believes we should refrain from compromising anything at all,” Her Majesty tells them, and Nino’s mouth immediately moves to tell Jun everything—the thinly veiled contempt, the distrust.

Jun whispers what he should say next, and Nino has to clear his throat to get the words out. “The Ambassador would like to know what Her Majesty believes.”

The monarch’s expression betrays nothing, like she expected Jun to say such a thing. “I believe my council’s suggestions, despite how varying they are, have merit. That it is prudent that I heed every word with caution, as any step I take might mean prosperity or eventual downfall of the dynasty.” She turns to Nino expectantly, waiting for him to finish translating. When Nino gives her a nod, she continues, “But what I truly believe is that if Earth engages in the war that may yet come with Zura as one of its allies, there will be yet another threat of civil war on our planet. There are many who lost their faith in the royal family. Any upcoming war will only aggravate that.”

Nino understands where she’s coming from. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and that crown seems to rely on the people’s approval of her and her rule given the recent events in their history. Earth’s absence in their civil war affairs puts Jun’s peace envoy in a precarious position—they have no knowledge of the depth of their struggles. Nino’s empathy for them only draws on similar experiences, not on shared ones.

“What do you want me to say?” Nino asks when Jun’s silence stretches.

“There are Zurans in certain off-world settlements,” Jun says, nodding at him, and Nino translates as he resumes speaking. “Scattered across different quadrants, mingling with humans and other species despite Earth’s decision to remain neutral in the last civil war. If the intergalactic war breaks out as we all fear, your people are also in danger. The Union, of course, will protect these colonies to the best of their ability, but not knowing where the first strike might be puts us to a disadvantage. If any of these off-world settlements are attacked, on a quadrant that doesn’t consist of enough Union-allied planets, who’s going to help those people? Will you turn a blind eye to your own kind because of your reservations regarding the proposed allegiance?”

Nino finishes translating and he feels detached from every word he uttered. Jun’s voice was firm and his expression showed conviction that can’t be mistaken for something else, but it does nothing other than take Nino back. It hits too close. The Delta Quadrant has sparse colonies, being far from the Union’s headquarters and at the edge of the scope of known allied planets. It sounds like a statistical tally when spoken out loud, but the reality of it is something else. Something that’s not easy to forget, something that lingers.

It’s with me no matter where I go, he thinks.

“What was your vow when you accepted the crown, Your Majesty?” Jun asks. Nino’s voice sounds hollow to his own ears but he does his job. “Protecting the people is part of it, yes? That you are to be their provider, their mother, their voice. If a Zuran leaves his home planet, does the royal vow cease to be applicable on his person?”

The skins of the council members turn a darker shade of purple, but the monarch’s face remains calm and collected. “It doesn’t, and I’m certain you know that, Ambassador.”

Jun inclines his head. “I’m not pressuring you into agreeing on this part of the treaty. I’m merely pointing out that the Union has had events in which help came too late, and if we can work together to slim the chances of those happening again, then why shouldn’t we? If war is inevitable at every turn, why should that stop us from safeguarding the people, yours and mine?”

Nino turns to look at Jun and studies every piece of dedication and passion in his eyes. The Union can use more people like him, someone who’s willing to put the political affairs aside to avoid repeats in history.

Her Majesty inclines her head slightly after a moment. “I speak for myself when I say this, Ambassador,” she pauses to let Nino do his work and proceeds at Nino’s acknowledging nod, “that part of my fear is a repeat of what happened in the human colony of Nyx VII—”

Her mouth continues speaking but Nino can no longer hear anything. He feels too stuffed in this room, like he has been chucked into a cell for solitary confinement—no windows, no doors. The cacophony resonates inside him, as if it is coming from within him. He can feel the edges of the seat digging into his palms with how strained his grip is in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Breathe, he tells himself. Breathe, you idiot, breathe.

There is a momentary surge of calm that courses through him, lightning fast, but as soon as he shuts his eyes to let it flow, sudden cold replaces it. He remembers—belatedly as he tries to hang on to where he is at present—that cold doesn’t denote a presence but an absence.

A void is growing inside him and it’s beginning to suck him in.

“I failed as your governor,” is what he hears next. Booming from the sound system attached under a lamp post, broadcasting to every area of the colony. “But there is still something that can be done. Help will not come. We are too far. By the time the Union is here, it will be too late—”

Then the screams come. Protests, questions, outspoken confusion, all of which end up the same: muffled, distant, and eventually silenced. The ground shakes beneath him and he’s afraid that once he opens his eyes, he’s going to see that underneath his boots is the dirt that damned them all.

“Ninomiya,” he hears. From the speakers. He’s in the crowd again, standing in line, awaiting judgment, his name from the list. He didn’t make it, did he? He’s too old to be considered. If he’s too old then why is he surrounded by children? Why is he in this corner and not amongst the adults? “Ninomiya.”

“Nino,” comes again, louder and with more emphasis, and there’s a fierce grip on his shoulder this time. The walls collapse, the cold begins to ebb away to a dull but gnawing ache, the dirt under his soles fading to nothingness.

He opens his eyes to almost blinding light and sees more than feels Sakurai shaking him.

When he looks up, the meeting room is empty.

“What happened?” he asks out of breath, nothing too different from that day he ran to hide.

“The Ambassador called for a momentary recess,” Sakurai explains. There is a concerned frown on his face. “To clear his head, he reasoned. He is accompanied by his bodyguards. One of the council members proposed to give him a tour of the ship and he accepted despite the language barrier.”

Nino straightens in his seat. There’s a trickle of cold sweat trickling down from his temple. “I’m sorry. I— I wasn’t able to translate what Her Majesty was saying earlier.”

Sakurai looks close to snorting. “I covered for that immediately.” He stands and steps back, giving Nino space to breathe. “No harm done, I think. As soon as you went silent I stepped in.”

Of course he did. Nino’s thankful Sakurai was paying attention to everything. “Jun-kun really left you here with me?” he asks, not entirely convinced.

“He said he could handle himself and that he wouldn’t trust anybody else,” Sakurai tells him, an eyebrow arched in a dare for him to contest. “Would you care to explain what happened or would you rather not talk about it?”

Nino shakes his head once. “I went back. That’s all.” He exhales. “Am I getting fired as soon as we’re back on the ship?”

“That is for the Ambassador to decide.” Sakurai throws him another concerned look mixed with curiosity, and Nino lowers his head so as not to see it.

He hears a sigh. “Personally, I don’t believe he will fire you because of that. I’ve done worse and yet here I am, still working for him.” Sakurai takes the seat next to Nino but his gaze is fixed on the empty holotable in front of them. “But he will want an explanation.”

Nino almost smiles. “He doesn’t need one.” He knows, goes unsaid.

Sakurai nods after a moment. “We were granted a recess of fifteen minutes.”

“And what’s the time now?”

“You have at least half of that left.” There’s no judgment in Sakurai’s voice. He used his informative tone on Nino, and to Nino that is new. Their proximity in this room is somehow comforting to him. Sakurai remains pointedly focused on the holotable, giving him every bit of privacy he can get, but at the same time sitting close to remind him he’s not alone.

Jun would never leave him alone in the hands of someone incapable.

Nino nods, leaning back against the headrest. He takes measured breaths and counts each, exhales as slow as possible to drag it out. The voices are starting to fade, and to hasten the process, he starts shushing.

Sakurai turns to him, perhaps to tell Nino that he’s not talking at present, but Nino merely shakes his head to dismiss his concerns. “I didn’t mean you. Just—” he trails off, unable to explain.

“Okay,” he hears, and Sakurai shifts his gaze someplace else, giving him all the privacy he can have in their situation.

He resumes silencing the voices he can hear, rocking himself a little in his seat. In a few minutes Jun will be back, the royal council with him. He doesn’t have time, but whatever he has left, he can use to ground himself again. He continues shushing under his breath, telling himself over and over that nothing is out there.

“One minute,” Sakurai says eventually, and Nino takes one last deep breath before opening his eyes.

“If I mess up again, don’t wait anymore and just step in,” he says as a reminder.

Sakurai’s eyebrow is quirked now. “There are things you don’t have to tell me, Ninomiya.” He says the last bit with a hint of competitiveness, and Nino lets out a chuckle, appreciating the intent of creating a diversion.

“Thanks,” Nino says. He can sense the bewildered look Sakurai throws at him but he ignores it.

From the corner of his eye he sees Sakurai’s hand wave in dismissal. “I was ordered to do it.”

Nino almost rolls his eyes, but he might trigger a migraine so he doesn’t. “He rarely orders you around,” he points out. “Just accept it, will you?”

There is the barest hint of a smirk on Sakurai’s face when Nino faces him. “In the future, I think it would benefit us both if you learn how to ask nicely,” he says as Nino’s eyes widen, “husband.”

The doors to the meeting room swoosh open, revealing the Zuran monarch, Jun and his bodyguards trailing behind her, and the Zuran small council following him. Sakurai smoothly stands at the same time as Nino’s, his face not giving away anything he has said earlier.

Nino’s ears are turning pink but he barrels through it, meeting Jun’s questioning look with a decisive nod.

The council members assume their former seats just as Sakurai moves back to his original one, Jun taking his between them once more.

Her Majesty remains standing, and with a nod from Jun, she clears her throat. “Then we proceed with where we left off in negotiating this treaty.”


Part 3