((CO’s Ready Room – USS Narendra))
She had been commanded to attend the Captain on the USS Narendra.
Okay, so it hadn’t been done in such a way that Alora felt like she was in trouble. On the contrary, there was something in what he had sent her, an undertone to the words that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. If anything, it had piqued her curiosity, and she found herself making her way on to the Narendra without any sort of trepidation, simply eager to find out what he wanted of her. Was it something with the department? A special experiment he wanted them to run? The discovery of something or other they didn’t have answers for and they were tasked with finding them? If it was any of those things, then why so abstruse? Why have her join him on the Narendra? They had launched from the base as soon as she had boarded, and the star sat lazily in the distance, the base below them, turning serenely on its axis. It was a lovely sight, quite a few, and she took a moment to simply stop and gaze at it for a moment before continuing on her way to the ready room. The message had been rather cryptic. He had contacted Commander DeVeau early that morning – at a reasonable morning time however – and asked her to join him in his ready room. Not his office, which was the usual place he met with everyone – the ready room on the Narendra.
She needn’t have done that. When she stepped into the Captain’s room, she was afforded an even better view than the little window she had paused at earlier. Still gazing out the window, he greeted her warmly.
Taybrim: Thank you for joining me, Commander. ::he turned and gestured to where a lovely pot of Betazoid hot berry cider was steaming and ready to be drank.:: Please have a seat.
Alora’s eyes followed his motion to the couch that sat off to the side and the drink that sat there, waiting to be consumed. She crossed over and sat down and he joined him, a smile upon his lips. It spurred one to her own, though perhaps muted simply because she wasn’t quite sure what this was all about. The wheels were turning, the cogs linked together in a spinning array of thoughts that she could only guess at.
Taybrim: I know, an unusual venue for a meeting, but since the Narendra was going out for a jaunt into Federation space I figured it would be the perfect place to sit and have a talk away from the lovely bustle that is StarBase 118.
As he spoke, he filled a cup with cider and offered it to her. Shaking her head at the sweetener, she sipped it, enjoying the natural flavour without adulteration. Her eyes peered at him from over the rim, studying him silently for a moment, savouring the gentle sweetness of the cider before she finally spoke.
DeVeau: I imagine you’ve already been awake for quite some time.
Taybrim: You’re right ::He nodded gently:: I was up very early. As always there is change on the horizon.
That curiosity which had been awakened upon the message she had received only intensified. Alora lowered her cup a little, head canting to the side. Her eyes continued to study his face, as if it might offer some sort of clue to the reason behind this entire meeting. Alas, she did not have the skills to interpret that much from his expression.
Taybrim: The Romulan Senate – or at least a number of influential Senators are willing to hear our evidence on the Cult of Molor and to stop the supply lines coming from Romulan space. While a Klingon civil war might benefit the Romulans short term, the fact that they are supplying a dangerous enemy that can easily turn around and start war with them… it’s a compelling argument for them to see reason.
The Cult of Molor. While not personally acquainted, and perhaps that was a blessing in of itself, Alora had read enough of the past missions to know they had altercations with said Cult. In fact, her newly acquainted Klingon friend had been part of a battle between them and Starfleet though, fortunately, fighting against the cult rather than an ally.
DeVeau: Compelling indeed. Benefits had to be long term, and a war against the Romulans certainly wouldn’t benefit their people, particularly with their current situation.
Taybrim: Of course there’s a twist. The Romulans requested to speak with certain officers who have been involved in fighting against the Cult of Molor to hear directly from them. People the Romulans feel they can trust. In our case that’s one specific person we all know – Nijil.
Nijil? But what did that have to do with her. She paused mid sip, the cup lowering again and she leveled her gaze, surprise reflected within it.
DeVeau: The commander?
Taybrim: Nijil is Rekarian – that’s a Romulan offshoot race. He may not talk about it but he knows more about Romulan culture than most anyone else on the station and the Romulans seem him as one of their own to a point. I can see why they specifically want the report from him.
Yes, she knew he was Rekarian, and Alora was aware of the history of their people. Descendents, even considered almost a subrace of the Romulans, they were almost indistinguishable physically.
DeVeau: Yes. That makes sense.
At that point, Alora leaned over to place the still half full vessel back upon the table. Shifting, she turned to face the captain as much as the couch would allow without literally drawing her feet up on it. As informal as she could be, that would be going a little too far, and this certainly wasn’t the time to be casual.
DeVeau: There’s more to this than telling me about Nijil’s report to the Romulan Senate.
DeVeau: I see. How long will he have to be gone?
So it was more than just giving a report, it was actually spending time with the people, perhaps testifying about the Cult, deliberating, and trying to convince them of various points. If the Romulans trusted him, saw them as one of their own, that testimony would be invaluable. If he could convince them to stop the supplies, they would certainly weaken the Cult.
Another long moment passed and Alora was silent. If only she could read the little ramble of thoughts that went on in his brain. She was hesitant to try and guess, but she couldn’t help but see a path that he’d set down, and the destination? She had a guess where that path was going to lead. He hadn't asked anything of her, but she knew something was coming.
DeVeau: What do you wish of me, Captain?
-- Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau Chief Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops al...@blar.net M239008AD0