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She continued to hope that she hadn’t missed anything fundamental about the Cygneti language even as Enterprise settled into a high orbit above the aquamarine world, whose surface as displayed on the bridge viewscreen looked surprisingly ice-free despite its extreme distance from its star. According to Commander T’Pol, who was providing real-time sensor analysis, Cygnet XIV’s relatively temperate climate was the result of a combination of internal geothermal heat and the tidal interactions of the planet’s two large moons.

The only question Sato was truly interested in at the moment, however, was whether or not the captain would succeed in talking with the Cygneti. As a large orbiting hangarlike facility rolled into view across the planet’s terminator, Captain Archer rose from his chair and turned toward her station.

“Hail them, please, Hoshi. Let’s hope whoever answers this time doesn’t find our troubles quite so amusing.”

“Aye, Captain,” Sato said, recalling the highlight of the previous audio exchange: a gurgling sneeze that had sounded very much like a startled spit-take followed by giggles and guffaws. Setting aside her last nagging doubts about the accuracy of her newly revised translation matrix, she opened the standard hailing frequency, including video, should the Cygneti decide to use it.

“This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise, from Earth,” said the captain. “As we indicated earlier, we are in need of repairs in order to continue our homeward voyage. I wish to discuss trading—”

The hangarlike facility abruptly vanished from the viewer, replaced by the face of a frowning woman of perhaps early middle age. “You’re the captain?” she said, the universal translator matrix rendering her Cygneti words in incredulity-tinged English. “You must be joking.”

“Jonathan Archer. Commanding officer of the Starship Enterprise, from Earth.”

“A man. The captain. Of a great big starship.” Her frown disintegrated under the onslaught of her own peals of laughter. “That is just adorable.”

Archer was beginning to look irritated. “I assure you, ma’am, this is no laughing matter.”

The woman on the screen appeared to get hold of herself. “You’re quite right, ‘Captain.’ My apologies.” Another snicker escaped her lips, but she seemed to be trying to maintain an otherwise almost businesslike demeanor. “But before we discuss your repair issues any further, would you mind turning around once or twice? I’d like to get a look at you from behind—”

Responding to Archer’s chopping hand signal, Hoshi touched a control, causing the woman’s image to disappear. The ship repair facility, gleaming in the blue-white glow of distant Cygnet, took its place.

“Hoshi, are the wires still crossed on your translation matrix?” he said, annoyed. “She seems to find my request awfully entertaining.”

Hoshi was at a loss. “As far as I can tell, the matrix is providing accurate two-way translations. Of course, there could always be cultural factors I haven’t dealt with adequately.”

“Perhaps the fact of the matriarchal nature of Haurok leh-keh’s humanoid civilization has not been adequately addressed,” T’Pol said.

“The Vulcan files on this civilization mentioned that fact,” Sato said. “I’m sure I accounted for it.” In fact, she was certain that the Cygneti matriarchy, which had evidently endured for many centuries, had much to do with this language’s gender bias.

“This might be an aberration on the part of the Cygneti,” Malcolm Reed said. “I mean, Vulcan is a matriarchy, too. But they aren’t sexist pigs about it.”

An inspiration struck Sato then, and she exchanged a look with Archer that told her instantly that he was thinking along the same lines.

“I think the Cygneti’s cultural expectations are a little bit different from ours,” he said as he approached her comm station, removing three of the pips from his uniform’s right epaulet as he walked.

“When in Rome...” Sato said as the captain dropped the pips into her hand. She relinquished her seat as she began attaching the