Deception: The lesser part of Valour – Coffee and Coercion (Backpost)
by Colonel James Darson & Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
Darson stalked onto Deck 144 with a purpose. This purpose was, of course, to find Isha t'Khellian. After leaving the Captain’s office, he had felt that he could leave her alone for a brief period of time without her getting assassinated…at least until the festival started.
He had tracked Isha here, using the stations sensors, and a bit of his own detective skill. However, she was not alone, like he had hoped. Instead, she looked like she was enjoying a picnic with someone who he had tentatively confirmed to be Lieutenant Chelsea Adams, the half Bajoran ACMO.
Realizing that he was attracting stares, he retreated from the bright picnicking area, and sat down on a bench facing it, just outside the perimeter. He reached up under his cloak, and removed his helmet, tucking it surreptitiously under his cloak, and latching it onto a magnetic strip.
Throwing back the cloak’s headpiece and affixing a small smile to his face, Darson instantly changed from “Suspicious cloaked person” to “cloaked person”. And of those, there was plenty, milling about the promenade.
Darson had never particularly liked undercover work, although he was quite competent at it. Too many uncontrolled variables, particularly if you were on your own, like he was. Nevertheless, it was important to blend into the crowd, to avoid spooking Isha. He needed to talk to her, not run away from him.
After giving another brief smile to a passing Bajoran family, he settled in to watch what he hoped was the end of Isha’s lunch.
Lingering a little after Chelsea departed to return to duty, Isha reflected on their lunch. She truly regretted her behavior towards the doctor, and though they had patched over their skirmish, Isha reminded herself that as a non-Rihannsu and a friend Chelsea was owed a certain respect that she, Isha had allowed to fall away with her formality.
It was not the resumption of formal language and behavior that was required, but something else, something entirely new to Isha's experience; as she traced her fingertips over the rough surface of the black and yellow checkered rug she wondered how she was ever going to achieve it, but she surmised that it might be fun to find out.
Isha rolled to her knees and lithely to her feet. She glanced briefly at the picnic spot, but knew that the Bajoran shopkeeper who had arranged the spot would be waiting to clear it all away as soon as she had gone. She stooped to pick up her back and drew the strap over her shoulder, pausing only to release the hair that caught beneath it.
A few steps and Isha joined the main path, just another tourist waiting for the celebrations to begin.
Darson saw Isha finish her lunch, and began to clean up. He rose and began to mingle with the tourists on the walkway as she began to walk towards him. Dodging around a happy Bajoran family, he set himself up on the pathway at a point Isha would have to walk by.
As Isha walked by, Darson fell into step beside her and said quietly in barely accented Romulan, "Isha t'Khellian...I need to speak with you."
Isha stiffened but did not alter her pace; she did not know this hevam, but she had a vivid imagination.
“Rha?” Isha replied with all the ironic emphasis appropriate to the question – ‘Is that so?’ She could add one and one together easily enough and though she might have come up with seven but she would wager half her fortune that the man knew Agent Gabriel, the other half of her fortune she would gamble on this not being a social inquiry.
Slowing her pace a little, Isha approached the rail where they could stand a little apart from the crowds, but still be in full view of passers-by; it was a simple precaution, but in light of the development her mother had informed her of that morning, one well worth taking.
Darson smiled to himself as Isha leaned on the rail. She was a smart one. He glanced backwards at the throngs of people wandering through the area. Plenty of witnesses, but not many spectators. He stretched and leaned back on the railing, before discretely flashing her his Marine credentials.
As she turned, Isha swept her new companion with a brief, appraising gaze. “You have the advantage of me,” Isha said returning to Federation Standard, “You appear to know who I am Major …?”
"Darson," He said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Major James Darson, Detachment Commander aboard this fine station. I'd ask you to introduce yourself, but I think it would be a waste of time."
What did he know about her, Isha wondered laying her fingertips on the cold metal rail; was he aware that there was rather more to her background than her assumed identity as a journalist?
Isha smiled thinly, “Well, Major James Darson, let’s not waste time. You might begin by telling me what you want,” she said.
"What do I want? To the point as usual, Miss. although...I'm not surprised. Leaving that aside, I want to...help you...with your problem."
Had she been less well bred, Isha might have snorted; Miss, she thought derisively, assuming his intention was to be polite she did not mention it.
“Perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else, Major,” Isha suggested, turning her bright green gaze on him, “because I was not aware that I had a problem.”
Darson turned the full force of his gaze on her, and at the same time dropped the friendly attitude, twisting his mouth into a scowl “Everybody has problems, Ms. t'Khellian…even if they don’t notice, or choose not to. In this case, your problems stem from several sources. One, the slightly overeager CIO of this station, Gabriel Dorian. As I understand it he’s been ‘harassing’ you, for lack of a better term, over the past few days. Two, Raedheol and his cohorts at the Romulan Embassy. They’ve been very busy over the last couple of days…and besides causing trouble for you; they’ve been causing some for me as well. Need I go on?”
Angling her head with an inquisitive tilt, Isha studied Darson as he spoke. It seemed that he wanted to let her know that he was not playing games and that he could turn nasty rather suddenly; Isha noted that, but was he really proposing to get Gabriel off her case? She thought that on reflection she rather preferred Gabriel’s polite if overbearing inquiries to Darson’s tone of implicit threat.
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Isha said with a shrug, “not being attached to the embassy I’m afraid I have no knowledge of what is going on there – both you and Agent Gabriel appear to be troubled by the misapprehension that I in some way know something, which I assuredly do not. As for Raedheol, his business is his own,” she added, a little defensively.
Darson gave her a sideways glance, and let out a little non-committal sigh. He took note of her defensive attitude, and thought that he had pushed enough for right now.
With a smile, his voice regained its genial tone, “Alright. But first, let me buy you a cup of coffee. I think that that would be the perfect thing to finish off the lunch you just had…don’t you?”
“Coffee,” Isha repeated. There was no way she could politely refuse, but really she did not want to go anywhere with this man, especially not anywhere less public.
Darson saw her reluctance telegraphed clearly and added, "Don't worry, we'll keep it nice and in the open. Somewhere on the promenade in fact. And in exchange for you joining me for coffee, and listening to my proposal, I can assure you that you will be well...compensated...for your troubles."
"What do you have to lose?" he said with a charming smile.
A great deal, Isha thought, but she straightened, and returned his smile, “Coffee then, Major Darson, and a proposition no less! A great philosopher once wrote Ahr'caehhere faell rhifv plicarate'dhohh kivoi eiheurrhelhai draes, but I’ve often found there is much to be gained by taking risks, wouldn’t you agree?”
Darson chuckled, “Of course, of course. ‘With great risk, comes great rewards,’ Ms. t'Khellian. I promise you, you won’t regret this. Now, let’s get that coffee.” He turned and began to stroll quickly but calmly through the crowd, heading to the section of the promenade that contained vendors selling everything imaginable.
Isha followed at a slightly more sedate pace. An idea had presented itself to her, and she thought that her new acquaintance might be useful to her in its execution, not that he would know that he was helping her, as far as he would know, she would be going along with his plan, whatever that would turn out to be.
It didn’t take long to find one selling coffee among other drinks, Darson turned to Isha and smiled, “What will you have, Ms. t'Khellian?
“Latte, please,” Isha replied, she had a taste for real coffee and hoped that its flavor would justify the warm aroma that wafted over the counter
“A good choice,” Darson said, “I think I’ll have the same,” He ordered and paid the vendor, and after a few minutes, received two steaming mugs of coffee. He handed one to Isha, and said, “Let's sit down, shall we?”
Isha nodded, and drifted towards a vacant table. She sat and placed her mug on the low table, “Did you know that in the empire coffee proved almost as popular an illicit import as aylihl (ale) did for your Federation?” she said, making pleasant small-talk as she plumped up the cushion behind her back.
Isha was curious, would he return it or would he move directly on to business? "I have no appointments this afternoon, so as long as you need me, I am all yours," she added with a warm smile.
Darson sat down at the table and began to stir his Latte slowly as he listened to Isha make small talk. He smiled and said, "My my, Coffee as an illicit substance? Don't think I can believe it...although I do like to indulge in some of the...ale...myself sometimes."
He grabbed a small dispenser of cream and added some to the warm beverage his he glanced surreptitiously around the area, "It doesn't look like there’s any immediate surveillance...but still, better to be on the safe side." He rummaged around in his cloak, and came up with a miniature White Noise generator. Only enough to cover a few square meters, but in this case it was enough.
He placed it quietly on the table and flicked it on. After a beat, he said, "Unfortunately, I do not have the time to enjoy a luxury like small talk over coffee," as he continued stirring, "So, let’s get down to business, shall we?"
Isha glanced without interest at the device as she tucked on leg beneath her and left the other dangling down to the floor, “Shall I don a wide brimmed hat and turn my collar up?” she asked, “then we can look a little more obviously like conspirators!” Isha laughed.
Darson frowned at her and placed his elbows on the table, giving her a slight glower.
She touched a hand gently to his arm, “Oh don’t look at me like that Major Darson, if you wanted to negotiate without humor then you should have chosen to conspire with a Vulcan, not that you would have been able to find one interesting enough to want to conspire with you. Now, tell me what it is you want from me and we’ll see if we have any business to do.”
Darson added some more sugar to his coffee, and as he resumed stirring it, said "Alright. What I want from you, Ms. t'Khellian, is your help. Help in finding and rescuing an...asset...by the name of Verelan Iawaiin. I have reason to believe that she is on board the station, but has been...detained...by your 'friend' Raedheol."
Isha emitted a soft sigh,”You lloann’su all seem so eager to make something extraordinary out of my wish to catch up with an old acquaintance. Why on ch’Rihan should it be thought odd for me to wish to spend time with others of my kind? Perhaps you’d all have more luck if you checked the station’s arrival and departure logs. If indeed this woman arrived it will be recorded and if she has not left the embassy … well, really that’s her business.”
"Please Ms. t’Khellian, I know you two have history. I want you to use that. As of this moment, I have been directed not to enter the Romulan Embassy, owing to several sensitive matters. That’s why I need you to go in, and search for me."
Isha’s smile evaporated, as did the warmth in her tone, “Your device will not deter a skilled reader of lips, Major Darson. To suggest such an act is to suggest treason. I think, Major that our conversation is over,” she rose to her feet.
Darson shook his head, "I have no intention of asking you to betray your people Ms. t’Khellian. I merely want to save this woman from the grim fate that awaits her. And of course, you'll be well compensated for your troubles."
First Chelsea, now Darson, both telling the same story. What are you up to, Rh’vaurek? she thought. I cannot interfere.
”Are you such a philanthropist?” she asked dropping back into her chair: if nothing else she might discover a little more about this woman who seemed to be occupying the minds of so many of her friends and acquaintances today.
Darson leaned back and casually rummaged around in his cloak. He came up with a small bar shaped item wrapped in a cloth, He set it down silently on the table, "One bar of the finest Gold Pressed Latinum. Just for talking. There's plenty more where that came from if you decide to help me."
”Major Darson, I’m really not the sort of woman who needs to be paid for conversation,” Isha said, “though I daresay you can find a number in this place who are.”
Darson smiled, "Of course I wouldn't dream of only providing monetary compensation. Let me sweeten the pot further. I'll see to it that the surveillance that Lt. Gabriel has on you is removed, and that he never bothers you again."
That explain why he has ceased the late night calls, Isha reflected as she raised her mug to her lips, or had tat been her own appeal to Tahir. “Why ever would you want to hamper the investigations of one of your fellow officers?” Isha asked, suspecting that the two men tolerated one another at best. “I’m quite sure that Agent Gabriel is only hoping for fashion tips, and those I hand out freely.”
Darson's smile didn't waver, "More than that? Alright...seeing as how you're a 'journalist', I'll make certain classified records available to your access, in order to help you with whatever...stories...you might be working on. Will that suffice?"
Leaning forward Isha placed her mug on the table.
As she sat back, she closed her eyes. It was tempting because there was a question to which Isha needed an answer. All routes within the empire had led to a tangle of disinformation that terminated in a sudden knot of obscurity. The answer was there, but it would be on the other end of those communications.
Her eyes flew open, “Tell me, Major Darson, would that access extend to any and all records pertaining to the actions and communications that certain prominent citizens of the Empire may have made with persons of equivalent stature within the Federation and the Klingon governments during the last thirty years? I will supply the names of the specific citizens in which the senate has interest.”
Darson’s gloved hand stopped stirring for a second, and then continued. His eyes and voice grew cold, “Such data could be considered extremely sensitive. May I inquire as to what you plan to do with this knowledge if it found its way into your hands?”
Isha chose her words particularly carefully, the correct meaning was important, “This is an internal matter. The senate has no interest in exposing your people,” Isha explained, “Our interest arises because the information required might prove compromising to those citizens who originally made those communications. The citizens in question happened to be in a position to corrupt official files.”
Darson gave a slight sigh, and said, “The data you speak of, and the citizens in questions may be something we can collaborate on. However, I will need to make inquiries, and that may take some time.
“I also require time to consider your request. I will not act against the best interests of the Empire and I need time to be assured that I am doing so.”
Darson nodded, “Then for now our business is concluded. I think this has been beneficial on both sides…but before we leave, I have one thing left to give you. He rummaged around once more in his cloak and withdrew a small but ornately carved ring. He reached over and took Isha’s hand gently, and placed the ring in it.
“I think it would not be wise to see each other again. This is a communications device. Tap the jewel once to open a Comm channel. Identify yourself to the person on the other end by the codename ‘Evergreen’. Press the Jewel again to close the channel. And if you’re in any sort of trouble, press it three times in quick succession, and It’ll trigger an alarm.”
”And I wait to be rescued!” Isha laughed scornfully, “Sometimes one’s rescuer turns out to be more of a problem than the original threat,” she observed, And of course it no doubt allow you to track my whereabouts should I be foolish enough to consider wearing it, Isha thought, closing her fingers around the item.
She lifted her soft leather day-bag to her knees and slipped the ring inside. With a smirk Isha also plucked the latinum from the table, though it was destined for the Bajoran children’s fund that the shopkeeper had mentioned to her when she organized the picnic. Finally Isha extracted a PADD from the bag.
Isha entered three names Senator Aehkhifv Latasalaem, Nniol i-Ihhliae tr’Illiahlae and Rhiu ir-Ainleth along with a series of dates stretching back over forty years; she thought he would notice that the dates in most cases either led up to the establishment or the abrogation of treaties, others merely coincided with a number of small and seemingly unrelated conflicts. She handed the PADD to Darson.
“Memorize them,” Isha said simply. “I require evidence that will withstand the scrutiny of the Continuing Committee. In some cases the details of the communication will be sufficient, in others the identity of the communicant will be required – those details we can negotiate once you know if you can help me.
“The first name is not to be confused with the Senator Latasalaem identified with the city of the same name, though both reside on ch’Havran; this one represents the district around Rhehiv'je. tr’Illiahlae you will discover is a relative of my late husband; look for him with particular connection to the Dominion war, especially any communication with Klingons around the time of the second battle of Chin’toka. Rhiu ir-Ainleth is another matter entirely, she is the governor of Ainleth, a colonized world and has represented it since the failed coup – the Shinzon incident was truly an opportunity for her. ir-Ainleth is the weakest of the three, she is not of a powerful family and has not been pulling the strings of government for the last century; I need to connect her with the others.”
Isha held her lower lip between her teeth as she waited for Darson to return her PADD. Rh’vaurek is going to skin me alive for getting involved, she thought, but with the right handling she was sure he would come round to her idea.
Darson gently took the PADD from Isha, and began perusing it. The first two names didn’t throw up any flags in his mind, but the last one… “Interesting,” He finally said. He smoothly slid the PADD back across the table and stood up, “Just remember, Ms. t’Khellian, we‘re against the clock on this…Ms. Iawaain’s time is almost up. I’ll be in touch.”
Without waiting for a response, He stood up from his untouched coffee, and vanished into the crowd.
When he was sufficiently far enough away, he drew his helmet out from under his cloak and slipped it on. As the magnetic locks engaged, he headed for the turbo lift and the Marine HQ.
OFF
Major James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
&
Isha t'Khellian
Deep Space 5
by Colonel James Darson & Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
| Title | Coffee and Coercion (Backpost) | |
| Mission | Deception: The lesser part of Valour | |
| Author(s) | Colonel James Darson & Commander Isha t'Vaurek | |
| Posted | Sat Nov 29, 2008 @ 4:29pm | |
| Location | Deck 144 - Promenade - Bajoran Gardens | |
| Timeline | SD 3 - 1340 |
He had tracked Isha here, using the stations sensors, and a bit of his own detective skill. However, she was not alone, like he had hoped. Instead, she looked like she was enjoying a picnic with someone who he had tentatively confirmed to be Lieutenant Chelsea Adams, the half Bajoran ACMO.
Realizing that he was attracting stares, he retreated from the bright picnicking area, and sat down on a bench facing it, just outside the perimeter. He reached up under his cloak, and removed his helmet, tucking it surreptitiously under his cloak, and latching it onto a magnetic strip.
Throwing back the cloak’s headpiece and affixing a small smile to his face, Darson instantly changed from “Suspicious cloaked person” to “cloaked person”. And of those, there was plenty, milling about the promenade.
Darson had never particularly liked undercover work, although he was quite competent at it. Too many uncontrolled variables, particularly if you were on your own, like he was. Nevertheless, it was important to blend into the crowd, to avoid spooking Isha. He needed to talk to her, not run away from him.
After giving another brief smile to a passing Bajoran family, he settled in to watch what he hoped was the end of Isha’s lunch.
Lingering a little after Chelsea departed to return to duty, Isha reflected on their lunch. She truly regretted her behavior towards the doctor, and though they had patched over their skirmish, Isha reminded herself that as a non-Rihannsu and a friend Chelsea was owed a certain respect that she, Isha had allowed to fall away with her formality.
It was not the resumption of formal language and behavior that was required, but something else, something entirely new to Isha's experience; as she traced her fingertips over the rough surface of the black and yellow checkered rug she wondered how she was ever going to achieve it, but she surmised that it might be fun to find out.
Isha rolled to her knees and lithely to her feet. She glanced briefly at the picnic spot, but knew that the Bajoran shopkeeper who had arranged the spot would be waiting to clear it all away as soon as she had gone. She stooped to pick up her back and drew the strap over her shoulder, pausing only to release the hair that caught beneath it.
A few steps and Isha joined the main path, just another tourist waiting for the celebrations to begin.
Darson saw Isha finish her lunch, and began to clean up. He rose and began to mingle with the tourists on the walkway as she began to walk towards him. Dodging around a happy Bajoran family, he set himself up on the pathway at a point Isha would have to walk by.
As Isha walked by, Darson fell into step beside her and said quietly in barely accented Romulan, "Isha t'Khellian...I need to speak with you."
Isha stiffened but did not alter her pace; she did not know this hevam, but she had a vivid imagination.
“Rha?” Isha replied with all the ironic emphasis appropriate to the question – ‘Is that so?’ She could add one and one together easily enough and though she might have come up with seven but she would wager half her fortune that the man knew Agent Gabriel, the other half of her fortune she would gamble on this not being a social inquiry.
Slowing her pace a little, Isha approached the rail where they could stand a little apart from the crowds, but still be in full view of passers-by; it was a simple precaution, but in light of the development her mother had informed her of that morning, one well worth taking.
Darson smiled to himself as Isha leaned on the rail. She was a smart one. He glanced backwards at the throngs of people wandering through the area. Plenty of witnesses, but not many spectators. He stretched and leaned back on the railing, before discretely flashing her his Marine credentials.
As she turned, Isha swept her new companion with a brief, appraising gaze. “You have the advantage of me,” Isha said returning to Federation Standard, “You appear to know who I am Major …?”
"Darson," He said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Major James Darson, Detachment Commander aboard this fine station. I'd ask you to introduce yourself, but I think it would be a waste of time."
What did he know about her, Isha wondered laying her fingertips on the cold metal rail; was he aware that there was rather more to her background than her assumed identity as a journalist?
Isha smiled thinly, “Well, Major James Darson, let’s not waste time. You might begin by telling me what you want,” she said.
"What do I want? To the point as usual, Miss. although...I'm not surprised. Leaving that aside, I want to...help you...with your problem."
Had she been less well bred, Isha might have snorted; Miss, she thought derisively, assuming his intention was to be polite she did not mention it.
“Perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else, Major,” Isha suggested, turning her bright green gaze on him, “because I was not aware that I had a problem.”
Darson turned the full force of his gaze on her, and at the same time dropped the friendly attitude, twisting his mouth into a scowl “Everybody has problems, Ms. t'Khellian…even if they don’t notice, or choose not to. In this case, your problems stem from several sources. One, the slightly overeager CIO of this station, Gabriel Dorian. As I understand it he’s been ‘harassing’ you, for lack of a better term, over the past few days. Two, Raedheol and his cohorts at the Romulan Embassy. They’ve been very busy over the last couple of days…and besides causing trouble for you; they’ve been causing some for me as well. Need I go on?”
Angling her head with an inquisitive tilt, Isha studied Darson as he spoke. It seemed that he wanted to let her know that he was not playing games and that he could turn nasty rather suddenly; Isha noted that, but was he really proposing to get Gabriel off her case? She thought that on reflection she rather preferred Gabriel’s polite if overbearing inquiries to Darson’s tone of implicit threat.
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Isha said with a shrug, “not being attached to the embassy I’m afraid I have no knowledge of what is going on there – both you and Agent Gabriel appear to be troubled by the misapprehension that I in some way know something, which I assuredly do not. As for Raedheol, his business is his own,” she added, a little defensively.
Darson gave her a sideways glance, and let out a little non-committal sigh. He took note of her defensive attitude, and thought that he had pushed enough for right now.
With a smile, his voice regained its genial tone, “Alright. But first, let me buy you a cup of coffee. I think that that would be the perfect thing to finish off the lunch you just had…don’t you?”
“Coffee,” Isha repeated. There was no way she could politely refuse, but really she did not want to go anywhere with this man, especially not anywhere less public.
Darson saw her reluctance telegraphed clearly and added, "Don't worry, we'll keep it nice and in the open. Somewhere on the promenade in fact. And in exchange for you joining me for coffee, and listening to my proposal, I can assure you that you will be well...compensated...for your troubles."
"What do you have to lose?" he said with a charming smile.
A great deal, Isha thought, but she straightened, and returned his smile, “Coffee then, Major Darson, and a proposition no less! A great philosopher once wrote Ahr'caehhere faell rhifv plicarate'dhohh kivoi eiheurrhelhai draes, but I’ve often found there is much to be gained by taking risks, wouldn’t you agree?”
Darson chuckled, “Of course, of course. ‘With great risk, comes great rewards,’ Ms. t'Khellian. I promise you, you won’t regret this. Now, let’s get that coffee.” He turned and began to stroll quickly but calmly through the crowd, heading to the section of the promenade that contained vendors selling everything imaginable.
Isha followed at a slightly more sedate pace. An idea had presented itself to her, and she thought that her new acquaintance might be useful to her in its execution, not that he would know that he was helping her, as far as he would know, she would be going along with his plan, whatever that would turn out to be.
It didn’t take long to find one selling coffee among other drinks, Darson turned to Isha and smiled, “What will you have, Ms. t'Khellian?
“Latte, please,” Isha replied, she had a taste for real coffee and hoped that its flavor would justify the warm aroma that wafted over the counter
“A good choice,” Darson said, “I think I’ll have the same,” He ordered and paid the vendor, and after a few minutes, received two steaming mugs of coffee. He handed one to Isha, and said, “Let's sit down, shall we?”
Isha nodded, and drifted towards a vacant table. She sat and placed her mug on the low table, “Did you know that in the empire coffee proved almost as popular an illicit import as aylihl (ale) did for your Federation?” she said, making pleasant small-talk as she plumped up the cushion behind her back.
Isha was curious, would he return it or would he move directly on to business? "I have no appointments this afternoon, so as long as you need me, I am all yours," she added with a warm smile.
Darson sat down at the table and began to stir his Latte slowly as he listened to Isha make small talk. He smiled and said, "My my, Coffee as an illicit substance? Don't think I can believe it...although I do like to indulge in some of the...ale...myself sometimes."
He grabbed a small dispenser of cream and added some to the warm beverage his he glanced surreptitiously around the area, "It doesn't look like there’s any immediate surveillance...but still, better to be on the safe side." He rummaged around in his cloak, and came up with a miniature White Noise generator. Only enough to cover a few square meters, but in this case it was enough.
He placed it quietly on the table and flicked it on. After a beat, he said, "Unfortunately, I do not have the time to enjoy a luxury like small talk over coffee," as he continued stirring, "So, let’s get down to business, shall we?"
Isha glanced without interest at the device as she tucked on leg beneath her and left the other dangling down to the floor, “Shall I don a wide brimmed hat and turn my collar up?” she asked, “then we can look a little more obviously like conspirators!” Isha laughed.
Darson frowned at her and placed his elbows on the table, giving her a slight glower.
She touched a hand gently to his arm, “Oh don’t look at me like that Major Darson, if you wanted to negotiate without humor then you should have chosen to conspire with a Vulcan, not that you would have been able to find one interesting enough to want to conspire with you. Now, tell me what it is you want from me and we’ll see if we have any business to do.”
Darson added some more sugar to his coffee, and as he resumed stirring it, said "Alright. What I want from you, Ms. t'Khellian, is your help. Help in finding and rescuing an...asset...by the name of Verelan Iawaiin. I have reason to believe that she is on board the station, but has been...detained...by your 'friend' Raedheol."
Isha emitted a soft sigh,”You lloann’su all seem so eager to make something extraordinary out of my wish to catch up with an old acquaintance. Why on ch’Rihan should it be thought odd for me to wish to spend time with others of my kind? Perhaps you’d all have more luck if you checked the station’s arrival and departure logs. If indeed this woman arrived it will be recorded and if she has not left the embassy … well, really that’s her business.”
"Please Ms. t’Khellian, I know you two have history. I want you to use that. As of this moment, I have been directed not to enter the Romulan Embassy, owing to several sensitive matters. That’s why I need you to go in, and search for me."
Isha’s smile evaporated, as did the warmth in her tone, “Your device will not deter a skilled reader of lips, Major Darson. To suggest such an act is to suggest treason. I think, Major that our conversation is over,” she rose to her feet.
Darson shook his head, "I have no intention of asking you to betray your people Ms. t’Khellian. I merely want to save this woman from the grim fate that awaits her. And of course, you'll be well compensated for your troubles."
First Chelsea, now Darson, both telling the same story. What are you up to, Rh’vaurek? she thought. I cannot interfere.
”Are you such a philanthropist?” she asked dropping back into her chair: if nothing else she might discover a little more about this woman who seemed to be occupying the minds of so many of her friends and acquaintances today.
Darson leaned back and casually rummaged around in his cloak. He came up with a small bar shaped item wrapped in a cloth, He set it down silently on the table, "One bar of the finest Gold Pressed Latinum. Just for talking. There's plenty more where that came from if you decide to help me."
”Major Darson, I’m really not the sort of woman who needs to be paid for conversation,” Isha said, “though I daresay you can find a number in this place who are.”
Darson smiled, "Of course I wouldn't dream of only providing monetary compensation. Let me sweeten the pot further. I'll see to it that the surveillance that Lt. Gabriel has on you is removed, and that he never bothers you again."
That explain why he has ceased the late night calls, Isha reflected as she raised her mug to her lips, or had tat been her own appeal to Tahir. “Why ever would you want to hamper the investigations of one of your fellow officers?” Isha asked, suspecting that the two men tolerated one another at best. “I’m quite sure that Agent Gabriel is only hoping for fashion tips, and those I hand out freely.”
Darson's smile didn't waver, "More than that? Alright...seeing as how you're a 'journalist', I'll make certain classified records available to your access, in order to help you with whatever...stories...you might be working on. Will that suffice?"
Leaning forward Isha placed her mug on the table.
As she sat back, she closed her eyes. It was tempting because there was a question to which Isha needed an answer. All routes within the empire had led to a tangle of disinformation that terminated in a sudden knot of obscurity. The answer was there, but it would be on the other end of those communications.
Her eyes flew open, “Tell me, Major Darson, would that access extend to any and all records pertaining to the actions and communications that certain prominent citizens of the Empire may have made with persons of equivalent stature within the Federation and the Klingon governments during the last thirty years? I will supply the names of the specific citizens in which the senate has interest.”
Darson’s gloved hand stopped stirring for a second, and then continued. His eyes and voice grew cold, “Such data could be considered extremely sensitive. May I inquire as to what you plan to do with this knowledge if it found its way into your hands?”
Isha chose her words particularly carefully, the correct meaning was important, “This is an internal matter. The senate has no interest in exposing your people,” Isha explained, “Our interest arises because the information required might prove compromising to those citizens who originally made those communications. The citizens in question happened to be in a position to corrupt official files.”
Darson gave a slight sigh, and said, “The data you speak of, and the citizens in questions may be something we can collaborate on. However, I will need to make inquiries, and that may take some time.
“I also require time to consider your request. I will not act against the best interests of the Empire and I need time to be assured that I am doing so.”
Darson nodded, “Then for now our business is concluded. I think this has been beneficial on both sides…but before we leave, I have one thing left to give you. He rummaged around once more in his cloak and withdrew a small but ornately carved ring. He reached over and took Isha’s hand gently, and placed the ring in it.
“I think it would not be wise to see each other again. This is a communications device. Tap the jewel once to open a Comm channel. Identify yourself to the person on the other end by the codename ‘Evergreen’. Press the Jewel again to close the channel. And if you’re in any sort of trouble, press it three times in quick succession, and It’ll trigger an alarm.”
”And I wait to be rescued!” Isha laughed scornfully, “Sometimes one’s rescuer turns out to be more of a problem than the original threat,” she observed, And of course it no doubt allow you to track my whereabouts should I be foolish enough to consider wearing it, Isha thought, closing her fingers around the item.
She lifted her soft leather day-bag to her knees and slipped the ring inside. With a smirk Isha also plucked the latinum from the table, though it was destined for the Bajoran children’s fund that the shopkeeper had mentioned to her when she organized the picnic. Finally Isha extracted a PADD from the bag.
Isha entered three names Senator Aehkhifv Latasalaem, Nniol i-Ihhliae tr’Illiahlae and Rhiu ir-Ainleth along with a series of dates stretching back over forty years; she thought he would notice that the dates in most cases either led up to the establishment or the abrogation of treaties, others merely coincided with a number of small and seemingly unrelated conflicts. She handed the PADD to Darson.
“Memorize them,” Isha said simply. “I require evidence that will withstand the scrutiny of the Continuing Committee. In some cases the details of the communication will be sufficient, in others the identity of the communicant will be required – those details we can negotiate once you know if you can help me.
“The first name is not to be confused with the Senator Latasalaem identified with the city of the same name, though both reside on ch’Havran; this one represents the district around Rhehiv'je. tr’Illiahlae you will discover is a relative of my late husband; look for him with particular connection to the Dominion war, especially any communication with Klingons around the time of the second battle of Chin’toka. Rhiu ir-Ainleth is another matter entirely, she is the governor of Ainleth, a colonized world and has represented it since the failed coup – the Shinzon incident was truly an opportunity for her. ir-Ainleth is the weakest of the three, she is not of a powerful family and has not been pulling the strings of government for the last century; I need to connect her with the others.”
Isha held her lower lip between her teeth as she waited for Darson to return her PADD. Rh’vaurek is going to skin me alive for getting involved, she thought, but with the right handling she was sure he would come round to her idea.
Darson gently took the PADD from Isha, and began perusing it. The first two names didn’t throw up any flags in his mind, but the last one… “Interesting,” He finally said. He smoothly slid the PADD back across the table and stood up, “Just remember, Ms. t’Khellian, we‘re against the clock on this…Ms. Iawaain’s time is almost up. I’ll be in touch.”
Without waiting for a response, He stood up from his untouched coffee, and vanished into the crowd.
When he was sufficiently far enough away, he drew his helmet out from under his cloak and slipped it on. As the magnetic locks engaged, he headed for the turbo lift and the Marine HQ.
OFF
Major James Darson
Marine Commanding Officer
&
Isha t'Khellian
Deep Space 5