JP: Captain Del Vedova, Ltjg Nilsen - Diplomatic Lessons

[Lhandon Nilsen]

((Conference Hall, Deep Space 14)

Lhandon couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he didn’t belong here, and in many ways, an outside observer might make that determination. In his gold operations uniform and with his tall build, he certainly looked more like a lost part of the security detail. He had never seen so many purple uniforms in one place; many officers would go for years without seeing one. They were not commonplace, and many who did wear purple eventually morphed into command red.

The sign-in was simple enough. Martinson, with the blessing of Rouiancet, had already made the arrangements for him to attend, the idea that this would be good for Lhandon to meet other people in the field, perhaps starting to grow his contacts, and to also learn from the speakers that were presenting. Soon he was allowed into the hall proper. Ahead of him was a split staircase that led to the large mezzanine floor, which almost stretched the length of the hall. Above all of that was a glass roof, through which the star of New Bajor shone, adding a gold tint to the proceedings that was somewhat masked by the layers of protection afforded by the giant window.

He saw two officers talking and laughing with each other, a Bolian and a human. Lhandon wondered if the universe was taunting him. Things had been getting distant, perhaps, between Lhandon and Toxin; he could feel that friendship slipping away.

But maybe this is just what each of them needed: space. That way, they could come back together stronger than ever. Lhandon resolved that this was the correct answer.

He looked down at his badge and wished they hadn’t used the older picture they had on file. He had an accident while playing rugby a few days prior, and his nose was still bent. His face in the picture had also come out with spots, which naturally made him cringe. Next to his picture were his name, rank, and position, as well as his ship. He wasn’t paying attention to anything around him as he examined this purple badge, and he walked right into a captain, knocking the human almost off his feet.

Nilsen: :: apologetic:: Sir. I am so so sorry. 

Del Vedova: Don’t worry about it.

Del had caught himself as he stumbled, as after years with his cane, he had no trouble with his mobility at all. All the medical personnel who served with him on the Hirschfeld had offered at one point or another to provide therapies that would obviate its use, but the truth was that he’d become used to it, and it had even altered his gait. He had no trouble getting around and hadn’t for a long time, so why change what worked?

It became even more mortifying for Lhandon when he saw that this commander had a cane. Lhandon was no stranger to one, having found a use for his own cane, which he called “Michael Cane,” when he was recovering from Alpha Brenkelvi II.

Nilsen: Here, let me help.

Del Vedova: No need, I promise you. 

It then dawned on him. That was the person who was running the first talk he was attending. o0 oh frack 0o Maybe getting thrown out into the vacuum of space would be less embarrassing.

He’d just make his way to the airlock now.

Nilsen: I am so so sorry about this sir.

Del Vedova: If I tell you your apology will be not to apologize again, will you do it?

That got a chuckle out of Vothaw, Del’s Bolian companion and the Hirschfeld’s diplomatic officer. In fact, they were nearly late for the talk they were supposed to give, so they had a perfect excuse for moving on from this overly apologetic lieutenant.

Del Vedova: We’re due in Conference Room 18, so if you’ll excuse us…

As the captain got back to his feet, Lhandon answered his question. 

Nilsen:: Clearing his throat, trying to hide the embarrassment:: It’s actually your talk I’m headed to sir. 

Del Vedova: You (beat) are, huh.

Of course, he was. Del exchanged a look with Vothaw, which only at the last moment avoided turning into an eye-roll. 

Del Vedova: (a little reluctantly) Well, come on. I suppose we can all go together.

The dichotomy of emotions washed over Lhandon—relief mixed with a heavy dose of anxiety. He had been granted a reluctant invitation to join Del Vedova on the journey, an invitation that carried significant weight for him. Del Vedova was someone whose reports he had read and almost obsessed over. Yet, at the same time, he was deeply embarrassed. His throat was dry, and his nerves were on edge.

Nilsen: That would be an honour sir.

He saw the look given

Nilsen: I mean, it would be my pleasure. 

They set off, and if the young lieutenant was slowing his pace on Del’s behalf, Del immediately lengthened his stride. 

Del Vedova: So. What ship are you from? Charity? M’Benga?

Several ships currently at DS14 were through the wormhole specifically for the conference, which accounted for the presence of Del, Vothaw, and the Hirschfeld. It seemed just as likely, though, that the lieutenant was a local. Or, at least, a part of that task force assigned to the Gamma Quadrant.

Nilsen: The Octavia E Butler sir

Del Vedova: Oh, I know it. That’s Lia Rouiancet’s ship, isn’t it?

The pair of them had served together for almost three years, on both Veritas and Thor, before Del had accepted his promotion and transfer to Hirschfeld as its XO. Lia had done well for herself, though, or so Del had heard – though if this lieutenant was indicative of her crew, maybe not. Maybe the Gamma task force was full of officers that couldn’t cop it back in the Alpha or Beta Quadrants. Del didn’t think so, not really, but – well, he didn’t know, for good or ill.

He smiled when Del Vedova mentioned Ro’s name. 

Nilsen: Yes sir it is. One of the best ships in the fleet, and one of the best commanders ::Beat:: next to the Hirschfeld and her CO of course. ::smiles::

He hoped that a little charm would help fix things, and maybe help his anxious mind stop shouting at him. It was blatant flattery of the most obvious.  

Del Vedova: (a brief grin) Flattery only works when it’s from someone I know.

Not that Del minded the attempt, exactly. He respected Lia Rouiancet, and the young man’s rank implied that he was an officer with a little seasoning, at least. But he also wasn’t willing to be sweet-talked solely on Rouiancet’s reputation. More to the point, he wasn’t sure what the lieutenant wanted. 

Nilsen: I’m here to learn sir, and maybe see if ::beat: I don’t know, maybe what’s next? 

Del’s first (and snarky) reply died before it made it out, and he considered the young man with some interest. Much more so than the attempt at flattery, the possibility that he might be interested, really and intellectually interested, captured Del’s attention.

Del Vedova: Well. We’ll have to see. (beat) Are you a diplomatic officer?

Nilsen: I’ve been an officer for just over a year and ended up making communication happen with ancient Bajorans, brought the UDP to the table and dealt with creepy ghost ship, I don’t recommend that last one. 

Despite his irritation, which had been rapidly receding in any event, Del laughed.

Del Vedova: Noted. And that was a diplomatic answer if ever there was one, since (another grin) you didn’t answer my question. (beat; cocking his head) The UDP. That’s the United Dominion, isn’t it? Was this the Cheydalanga affair?

Nilsen: That’s the one. Ro talked with the captain of the Rij’dal’vak, I got the first officer, we ended up working out some ops magic with them for the people we rescued from the King’s Path.

Del was impressed, as much with the verbal summary of this diplomatic coup – getting one of the post-Dominion splinter groups into such agreeable a position that they’d agreed to a joint operation was no small feat – as with the nickname the young man had for Rouiancet. The only people who called Del “Del were Aron and Roshanara, and that had taken years with both of them.

Del Vedova: Well.

A very insightful comment, but Del couldn’t help it. Despite the rocky start, he was intrigued by the young man.

As they approached the entrance to Conference Room 18, Vothaw leaned in slightly, offering a bit of friendly advice. 

Vothaw: Buy him a drink afterward, Lieutenant.

Del frowned at his XO, who was always eager with anything that might discomfit his CO.

Del Vedova: We don’t pay for our drinks. (beat; slightly grudging) But, yes, I wouldn’t mind talking more. I didn’t get your name yet?

Nilsen: Nilsen sir, Lhandon Nilsen,

((Timeskip: After the talk))

Lhandon sensed he was heading in the right direction, but couldn't yet zero in on the specifics. Questions about his ops career lingered. Lost in thought, he missed Del Vedova and Vothaw's departure from the lecture, hoping to get another word with them. He stood by a window, reviewing his PADD notes and gazing at the habitat area.

Suddenly, raised voices caught his attention. Two traders were locked in a heated argument nearby.

Jolek, the Karemma representative, spoke with forced calm. 

Jolek: Our agreement clearly states 'several containers' of Tulaberry Wine. We provided exactly that.

Morka, a towering Dosi who rivalled Lhandon in height, snarled back. 

Morka: Five containers? Are you joking?

Jolek stood firm. 

Jolek: Yes, five. A standard shipment. This is no breach of contract.

Morka: ::leaned in, fuming:: When we negotiated, 'several' meant at least twenty! You confirmed it verbally. This 'standard shipment' is an insult!

The argument escalated quickly with accusations of extortion and bullying flying back and forth. Lhandon, seeing things spiralling out of control, stepped in.

Nilsen: Hey, folks. Let's take it down a notch.

Both traders turned on him, momentarily united in their annoyance.

Morka: Staaaaarfleet. You have no business here.

Jolek: Yes, stay out of this, human.

Nilsen: Look, I'm no diplomat. I'm an ops guy who grew up trading with Klingons, Nausicaans, and Ferengi. I might be able to help. And see? No purple. I've got no official say here.

The traders exchanged doubtful glances.

Nilsen: So, Jolek, you thought you were only sending five, right?

As Lhandon spoke, he realised he might be in over his head. This was more than a simple misunderstanding.

Jolek: Not just a thought. I knew exactly what I was doing.

Morka: Yes, trying to scam me!

Jolek: Scam? That's rich coming from you.

Lhandon tried to calm them again, but the two seemed determined to resume their shouting match. He didn't raise his voice, but these two were certainly testing his patience.

Nilsen: Folks…listen now.

Vothaw: Alright, friends, that’s enough.

Del hadn’t expected to stumble directly into a nascent brawl after the talk, much less in one of the open habitat areas, but the universe was a constant surprise. He would’ve been perfectly content to let station security sort it out, but Vothaw had come up through the ranks as a security officer and could so very rarely let things like this go. That was one of the qualities that Del had looked for when he was choosing his XO, truth be told – he certainly didn’t have the most keenly developed nose for conflict and potential violence, and on an offenseless hospital ship, Vothaw’s experience had proved essential more than once.

He also had the physical presence to back up his requests when dealing with in-person conflict. Vothaw was generally soft-spoken, but he was over two meters tall and (if Del was being fanciful) nearly that in width and depth as well. Anyone with sense would listen to Vothaw’s gentle suggestions as if they were barked orders.

As Del left Vothaw to deal with the argument, he cornered the final member of the unexpected group, and was somehow unsurprised to see that it was Nilsen.

Del Vedova: We meet again.

Nilsen: That we do sir

Del Vedova: (eyebrow raised) What were you trying to do?

Nilsen: I thought, I could fix their problem, it sounded like an ops thing at first; Shipments didn’t arrive, so I thought I went to them as an ops officer, I could help fix it; then it turned into a communication thing, they disagreed on the definition of several and then the whole thing spiralled, as you just saw. 

Del sighed. Before the talk, when Vothaw had encouraged Nilsen to buy him a drink, Del had put him off with the assumption that they’d meet for synthehol in DS14’s Starfleet canteen. But Del was rapidly realizing that Nilsen was going to be a true-alcohol kind of fellow.

Del Vedova: Come on. Do you have any currency? I think I would like a drink.

Nilsen: You bet. ::beat:: I’m paying aren’t I?

Lhandon has a little laugh to himself, 

Del Vedova: Yeah. (beat, a smirk) Thanks.

[To be continued in sim]

Captain Niccolò del Vedova

Commanding Officer

USS Hirschfeld

V238208LV0

he/him/his (player & this character)

&&

Lieutenant JG Lhandon Joseph Nilsen

Assistant Chief of Operations.

USS Octavia E Butler

O240007LN1

He/Him/His (Both player and character)