JP: FltAdml. Tristan Wolf & PNPC Ambassador R’Val – The Gambit (1 of 2)
Tristan Wolf
((FltAdml. Wolf’s office))
{{ Time Index: Day 29 of Chin'toka shore leave }}
Tristan Wolf stood with his back to the door, trying to center himself. The counselor had implored him to take more time to do that. Seemed like full-on hooey to him, but lately he had experienced heart palpitations and an occasional headache and he supposed it was either time to take a few deep breaths, or be the victim of some dire health consequences. He had really needed that vacation that he wasn't going to get.
Now a Romulan diplomat was approaching the base in a shuttle, here to talk to him. He asked the stars to give him the patience to listen to a Romulan talk out of both sides of their mouth, the strength to withstand more than mere moments in their presence, and the wisdom to know whether he should transport himself — or the diplomat — into space once it was all over.
He opened his eyes and looked around. Not a dream, he was still this man.
Without another breath, he approached the desk and gathered everything that moved, dropping it into a drawer and locking it with his thumbprint. He locked down the computer terminal, in case he turned his back for a moment. He even turned off the replicator station — the Romulan would never accept token food or drink, and he didn’t want to give them an excuse to replicate something dangerous. Like murderous toddlers, they were – give them any opportunity and they'd use it.
He glanced around and confirmed that, yes, that would probably be safe enough for the moment.
Then he sat down at the desk, carefully, and folded his hands on the desk. The door chimed.
Romulan Republic Ambassador R’Val waited for the door to open. Her blood was boiling, but it wouldn’t do to start a diplomatic incident right now. The Romulan Republic was still seeking amicable relations with the Federation and alienating the Federation’s main delegate for her people would not be the best way to do that. But she wanted answers. Once the doors opened, she entered to find the Admiral seated inside. She strode in, deliberately measuring her steps and steeling her countenance to avoid revealing her true emotions. She had no doubt she was failing, but she was making her best efforts.
R’Val: Admiral Wolf. I would like an explanation about these allegations against my daughter. I find it hard to believe that a Starfleet Officer, regardless of who they may be, could be accused of something this outrageous.
Wolf stood. So much for niceties. Romulans never just came for a visit.
Wolf: Welcome, Ambassador. A pleasure, as always, to have a member of the Romulan Republican here. ::His tone was icy.:: I'm aware your daughter is serving aboard the Chin'toka, although I'm not entirely sure what accusations seem so outrageous.
As the Admiral spoke, R’Val forced herself to remain calm. What she really wanted to do was draw her dathe’anovfsen and run it through him.
R’Val: Come on, Admiral. My daughter is being accused of poisoning her commanding officer. Are you really going to stand there and tell me you have no idea what I am talking about? :: her voice began to rise as she spoke and her anger began to seep through :: I can’t believe you, of all people, would allow this anti-Romulan sentiment to stand! I thought Starfleet had changed in their views about my people. I see that I was wrong!
A whisper ran through the back of his head questioning why, he, of all people, would care about anti-Romulan sentiment. She must have thought him a better man – someone who aspired to Picard's moral certitude, someone who had a special place in his heart for her people.
That was her first mistake. He knew the lengths these people would go to set you back on your heels and put you into a defensive position. They'd move about the galaxy in invisible warships, speaking in riddles, eyeing you warily over an offered glass of wine before hissing in your face about your duplicity.
But he knew all that before the Empire fell. The most important thing he had learned about them in recent years was that if a Romulan accused you of something, it was a good bet they, themselves, were guilty of just that thing.
Wolf: We're all innocent until proven guilty, Ambassador, that's the Federation way. But since I have you here, I guess it's worth asking: Did she kill him?
He hadn't even considered it up to this very moment. Reider had come in a few days ago with the notion of putting a green – no pun intended – First Officer into the commanding officer's seat. She was too inexperienced to command a ship in the Expanse, but more importantly he just wasn't ready to cross the bridge of giving a Romulan the command of a Starfleet vessel.
Regardless, he hadn't assumed she'd killed Thoran.
This was a whole new ball game. A Romulan ambassador in his office defending a half-Romulan Starfleet officer before charges were even filed? Before there was even a shred of evidence that she was implicated?
His mind whirred as he raced through the possibilities. The Starfleet Intelligence officers on the base would have been phasering each other in the back to be the first one at his door with that kind of news, but he hadn't heard a peep from them since Reider had visited. Was she here to get out in front of it, before they caught on? A delicious gambit. But… too obvious? Romulans thought humans were fools, but it didn't seem like them to send her in here trying something this conspicuous. Unless they thought that doing nothing would seem even more obvious. Charge in, railing against a heretofore unconsidered accusation, and of course his first response would be to question the entire premise, leading him to then assume that there was no possible way she had done it.
Switchbacks upon switchbacks – the Romulans were trained in it from birth. He had only been lying since he had learned to talk.
PNPC Ambassador R’Val
Romulan Republic Ambassador
Par’tha Expanse
as simmed by:
Lt. Commander Serala
First Officer
Training Team Member
Image Collective Member
USS Atlantis NCC-74682
A239412S10
Fleet Admiral Tristan Wolf