Deception: The lesser part of Valour – Chamaeleons
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
"I was expecting you,” Isha said as she stepped aside to admit Rh’vaurek to her quarters. “Make yourself at home, won’t you.”
“You actually seem pleased to see me,” Rh’vaurek raised an eyebrow as he slumped down on one end of Isha’s sofa. “I thought I wouldn’t be popular with you for a while after you and the doctor chased me away.”
Isha handed him the open tin of kheia she had shared with Chelsea earlier as she removed the two tall glasses they had drank from.
“What have I done to deserve this?” he asked watching Isha as she crossed the room, her silvery grey dress rippling like water over her hips as she moved.
“Leftovers, I also have a very nice Kal`iFhou open, but its a little woody for my taste, I thought you would appreciate it.” Isha said returning to place a pair of empty tumblers down on the surface of the side table with a click then standing the bottle next to them. “You’re chief pourer,” she informed him, kicking off her shoes.
“Who needs to bother with servants when you can invite willing slaves over?” Rh'vaurek said tipping about an inch of the pale blue liquid in each glass.
“Something like that,” Isha replied curling her legs beneath her, “trusted retainers get under one’s feet, whereas you I can send away as soon as I’m bored,” treating him to the tiniest smile, just to imply that she might be teasing.
Raedheol lifted his glass and swirled the liquid round, “I can always rely on you to keep me in my place. Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about, or do you just feel like company? You’ve been walking around as though you own the station today – you haven’t bought it have you?” he asked scooping the last of the roe from the tin with his finger.
“What would I do with a space station?” Isha asked cradling her glass between her palms.
“You could sell it for scrap,” Raedheol suggested licking his finger clean with a slurp.
Isha’s gaze danced across his features, the lamplight softening the wicked glint in his onyx black eyes. The barest twitch of a smile enlivened his face as he rested his arm on the back of the sofa, his body mirroring the angle of hers. Her gaze fell on the glass he rested on his knee, held loosely, his fingers spread over the rim. He had such powerful hands, Isha thought …
“Isha?”
Isha blinked and smiled, “I’m sorry, Rh’vaurek, I was miles away.”
“If you’re tired, I can leave you to sleep.”
“Stay, please … it feels as though this day has dragged on forever.” Pausing, Isha sipped from her own glass before placing it aside. “Why did you not tell me I was being followed?” she asked mildly.
“I told you that shouldn’t be wandering around the station alone,” he replied clearly thinking that warning enough.
“You see threats everywhere, Rh’vaurek! How was I supposed to know you were being serious?”
His lips split into a lopsided grin, “Maybe it’ll teach you to treat my advice with less disdain in future,” he said.
Isha tilted her head thoughtfully. He was in just the right mood, she thought, and it would serve him right for leaving her unprotected.
“Rh’vaurek, if I tell you something, do you promise not to be angry with me?” Isha asked.
“No,” he replied with a grin, “but tell me something anyway.”
“You remember that you asked me the identity of the man I had coffee with on the promenade?”
“I remember. The one you said ought to purchase a looking glass.”
Isha nodded, gazing up at him through lowered lashes, “Well, his name is Darson … but you knew that already,” she concluded, correctly reading the self-satisfied smirk that spread across his face.
Raedheol nodded, “You don’t want to get mixed up with his sort. What did he want?”
“Coffee,” Isha replied through a winsome smile, not that the man had possessed enough manners to conclude their negotiations to her satisfaction, or even to drink the beverage he had been so keen to purchase.
Rh’vaurek laughed, “If you’re going to be like this I will get angry,” he teased.
Isha laid her hand on his, his skin warm to her touch, “Be nice, Rh’vaurek. You’ve been trying very hard to frighten me into doing what you want, but why not just tell me instead of trying to keep me off balance? I’ve never really understand why you do that.”
“Because you’re less dangerous that way, d’Ishaal,” he said his thumb brushing over hers.
Isha raised an eyebrow, “You’re the only man who ever thought me dangerous,” she said.
“Others don’t see beyond your smile, and the welcoming gleam in those eyes. Under that beautifully crafted veil of charm and manners you’re wild, Isha.”
“You have one or two rough edges yourself, Rh’vaurek,” she observed.
“Anyone half as demure as you pretend to be wouldn’t be sitting alone in her quarters in the small hours of the morning with a man like me.”
“I’m curious about something,” Isha said twisting onto her knees. Her long fingers traced down his collar, just brushing his throat. “You wear nothing here, no markings, not even a hint, and even after so long you still style yourself as ‘Arrain’ … what are you really?”
“I’m a diplomat, Isha. I don’t need a rank.”
“But you have one, don’t you.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Raedheol nodded, “Look at it this way, your average Rihanha in the plaza would rather talk with a civilian than a representative of the Tal’Shiar, especially one of my standing; yourself included – if I came to you all pipped and uniformed you’d run a mile.”
Isha shook her head, “Only if I had a reason to run. You only bother me when you start using your ‘business’ tone.”
“Once again your naïve faith in the way the system works astonishes me.” Rh’vaurek leaned close to Isha, his nose almost touching hers. “If we have reason to speak with you, you have reason to run,” he said.
Isha breathed deeply, he smelled like spice and amber and that tone was a fearsome mix of oiled steel and precise intent, laced with just enough humour to remind her that he was teasing. She blinked, wordless as he gazed at her, her belly effervescing in a fizz of trepidation and desire.
“Should I be running now?” Isha breathed using all her resolve not to pounce on him as he sat back.
Raedheol shook his head, “Not from me, but maybe if I answer your question, you’ll think twice about annoying me in future,” he added thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” Isha responded.
“Someone should break you of a few of your bad habits," Rh’vaurek chuckled. "You will let me know if you ever need a volunteer, won’t you,” he offered with a resigned sigh. “OK, This isn’t known outside a very elect circle, so keep it quiet – consider it an indication of the esteem I hold for you.” He leaned in and the whisper in her ear was little more than a hiss of breath, “I’ve held the rank of Ssiebb (Colonel) for a number of years now and I expect to hold it for many more to come. Unless someone dies there’s no higher vacancy to fill.”
Isha could not help but be impressed. She understood a little better why Rh’vaurek felt able to act without restraint. If half of the rumours about the powers of the upper ranks of the Tal’Shiar were true, maybe she would have thought twice, had she known …
“How likely is that to happen?” Isha asked coyly the movement of her hair tickling her bare arms.
“Right now, promotion is not high on my agenda, besides, with one exception I don’t know who the Khrein (Generals) are.” He shrugged, “I already have more or less complete autonomy, why should I burden myself with additional paperwork? I’m as close to a desk job as I ever wish to come.”
“So you really are Latasalaem’s right hand,” she purred, her suspicions about the Senator’s actual rank and position indirectly confirmed. Who, at the end would have the greatest draw on Raedheol’s loyalty, Isha wondered, she or Latasalaem. If was not her, then Isha could not hope to win against such opponents.
Raedheol nodded placing his glass on the table. “Don’t let it concern you. I do what I have to. You were going to tell me about Darson, before you so charmingly distracted me from the topic,” he reminded her.
With few and rare exceptions Isha had kept her own counsel since she lost her husband. Considered truths, and opinions were not to be shared lightly, in the wrong hands such information could be abused. Now she had reached the point where she had to share, and though she had chosen her poise and her moment with purpose and care, Isha was no longer certain that she could guide the conversation where she needed it to go.
“Isha, you obviously want to tell me something. You can trust me,” Raedheol said.
Can I? Isha wondered.
It was her move in their protracted game of Caevra Rihannsu (Romulan Chess - literally, Romulan Heart) and her action would begin the end-game; one of the three contenders would lose and of the two left playing, it remained to be seen if there would be an ultimate winner. If nothing else, Rh’vaurek’s reaction would give Isha some indication of his own strategy while the three of them were still standing.
When Isha had originally told Chelsea that she could offer no assistance to Iawaiin she had not been entirely truthful, aiding a person wholly unknown to her did not give Isha sufficient motivation to begin a process that could change her relationship with Rh’vaurek forever. But if Darson came through with the information she had requested, the risk of forcing Rh’vaurek to choose whose side he was on would be worth it.
Dropping her hands into her lap Isha glanced at Rh’vaurek as she spoke, “Darson approached me just after lunch. He said that he had a proposition and I chose to hear it. He then told me that he wished to engage my assistance in a certain matter.”
“What matter?”
Catching her thumbnail between her teeth, Isha suddenly became very interested in the way the fabric of her gown fell across her knees, “He told me that you have custody of a woman named Verelan Iawaiin.”
“Darson told you this?” Raedheol asked, neither explicitly confirming nor denying the claim.
She nodded. “He seemed to think she was in some sort of trouble … he told me that because he was barred from the embassy he needed someone to act on his behalf.”
Isha jumped as Rh’vaurek slammed his open hand down hard on the arm of the sofa, “Kriheis'ei!” he swore, “He asked you to do this? You were right, I am angry, with both of you. I’m more than a little sorry you’re the only conspirator here, I could at least get some satisfaction from breaking his teeth.”
Isha remained still, her eyes averted. “I told him that even to suggest such a thing to me was inciting me to commit an act of treason,” she said.
“Yet you continued to speak with him,” Raedheol snapped, his tone devoid of its earlier humour.
“That’s the voice I was talking about,” Isha said, “Speak to me as though I’m a person not a vang'radam!”
“Stop behaving like one and I might,” he countered, “What did he offer?”
Isha swallowed, “Latinum, at first, then he offered to distract our paranoid Agent Gabriel – I actually got the impression that their relationship is barely cordial. It’s my guess that he’d welcome an excuse to interfere with whatever our Rihannsu despising intelligence officer is working on ...”
“I’m not interested in your speculation. Stick to the point.”
“You’re no fun when you’re like this,” Isha complained.
“Look at me!” he barked. "This is serious! Stop acting like a child!"
Without a word Isha complied, meeting his dark exasperated glare. “Just tell me you reached no agreement and give me your word that you will forget that you ever heard the name Verelan Iawaiin. Understood?” he said.
Isha rolled her lower lip between her teeth as he continued to stare at her.
“Its not quite that simple, Rh’vaurek,” Isha said eventually, “Darson offered to make certain confidential information available to me, and, well, I asked if the offer extended to records surrounding the communications of certain individuals in whom I have an interest.”
Raedheol's anger propelled him to his feet, “You ARE dangerous, to yourself if nobody else. What in areinnye (hell) do you plan to do if Darson comes back with the information you requested?”
He stopped a few paces away from the sofa and turned back to her, “You can’t give him what he wants and he’s not going to accept NOTHING in return. Do you actually expect me to close my eyes while you wander in and take Iawaiin?” he raged. “I’ll not do that! I swear that if you so much as step foot in my embassy …”
“You’ll what?” Isha interrupted sharply. “If Darson comes back with my information I want you to release her, or stage her escape or however you prefer to arrange it.”
“You cannot ask this of me.”
“I’m sorry, Rh’vaurek,” Isha said, the edge of her tone as sharp as the glint in her eye, “but you have misunderstood my meaning. I am not asking you to do this, I am telling you.”
“You don’t have the authority to command me,” his words crackling with ire.
“Actually, I do.” Isha dipped a finger into her décolletage, and with a hook and a flick a flat round object dropped into her waiting palm. She held the seal out to him. “I had hoped I wouldn’t have to reveal this to you, because it complicates things between us.”
He snatched the disc from between her fingers but as he examined it his outrage visibly dissipated, his face falling into what Isha thought to be a delightful crumple of confusion and relief.
“We envisaged that certain actions might be necessary and so this was given to me, the delegation of authority conveyed by that seal is mine. In the name of the Continuing Committee I order you to release that woman,” Isha said.
"How long have you had this?" Raedheol asked, returning to his seat both deflated and perplexed.
"Long enough," she replied, which was not really an answer at all, but then she was only supplying him with part of the truth; the rest could wait until the time was right.
He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, the seal held loosely between his palms, “Why reveal it now?” he asked.
"Because this is the first time you have been unwilling, or I should say, unable to accommodate my request. Rh’vaurek, the location of Deep Space Five is of strategic importance, our government is forming tentative connections with the Federation, and that we have been able to establish and maintain a presence here is a significant achievement. But there have been concerns that your operation is becoming too much of an independent faction.”
Isha paused, but when he did not speak she continued, “Your master, Latasalaem has recently trodden heavily on a few extremely sensitive toes and you Rh’vaurek, you have acquired a certain and I’m sure well deserved reputation for casual brutality, indeed some say that you demonstrate all the subtlety of a klivam (klingon). The Continuing Committee needs to be certain that our presence here does not draw any undue attention from our hosts.”
“You’re going to hold me responsible for a defection, and shut me down,” he said closing his eyes. He tossed the seal onto the table and as it clattered to a halt the hand on his knee clenched in a tight fist, "is that how it ends?"
A smile tugged at the edges of Isha’s lips. This was a cruel sport, and she left him waiting for an answer a just little longer than necessary. “The consul Liun will be held responsible. You are merely his Chief Aide, not even his Chief of Staff, yes? How could a minor functionary possibly be to blame?” Isha said mildly. “Liun will be removed and your operation will remain intact, for as long as I am convinced that you are working in the interests of the Empire.”
Raedheol turned his head towards Isha, “Senior Diplomatic Aide," he corrected her slowly then shook his head. "Every time I think I know you another layer splits open and something unexpected crawls out. You could have told me. You could have trusted me!” a plaintive note creeping into his tone.
“That still remains to be seen,” Isha said smoothly without elaboration.
Raedheol contemplated her response for a moment before speaking. “I made you a promise, Isha, on my life. I’ll not renege on that,” he assured her.
Isha nodded, the expression on her face enigmatic and calm.
“Who will replace Liun?” Rh’vaurek asked with sudden suspicion.
“I will,” Isha replied, “for some reason they seemed to believe that I can keep you under control.”
He laughed then, a slow rich chuckle. “I never suspected any of this. All those favours you’ve wheedled out of me in the past, you could have just demanded them.”
“That wouldn’t have been so much fun though, would it? Persuading you to do anything is always a challenge.”
“By persuading, you mean shamelessly manipulating.”
“You’re the expert in that field, Rh'vaurek. Though I must admit you’re less dangerous when you’re off balance,” Isha replied throwing his earlier words back at him.
“Do you want to bet on that?” he asked darkly. “You planned this. Every bloody move! You knew what I was going to do, how I was going to react and you played me. Damned lluadh (sneak), do you have no ethics?”
“I learned from some very dubious men,” Isha said. “Rh’vaurek, the possession of that authority is sensitive and could be abused if it became widely known. Please don’t disclose this knowledge to anyone, no matter their relationship with you,” by which Isha meant his superior, Latasalaem. “If that happens I will have to take appropriate steps.”
“Are you threatening me?” he snorted.
"I don’t threaten people, Rh’vaurek, you know me better than that. I'm merely explaining the situation to you,” Isha shrugged, barely able to contain her smirk.
He fell back against the cushions. "Dangerous!" he muttered very loudly. His arm lolling loosely over the arm of the sofa, "So, Rekkhai, what are your orders?"
“You're not answerable to me, merely helping me, safe in the knowledge that any action you take has the full backing of your government. Call me Ihhei if you feel the need for titles, but as you know, I'm just an ordinary girl from ch'Rihan,” she said.
“If you are a typical product of Ra'tleifhi's inbred elite, I'm a Klingon's grandmother.”
Isha wrinkled her nose in distaste, “I wondered what that smell was,” Isha said. She extended a hand, her fingertips brushing his brow, “you do seem a little 'ridgy' today, shoo ataen'dhenn Klivam (filthy Klingon)!” she said waving him away.
“Dangerous, dangerous woman,” he muttered closing his fingers around Isha’s wrist and pulling her from her knees so she fell somewhat awkwardly across his lap. Isha drew her legs up and eased herself into a more comfortable position in the nook between his arm and his chest, her hands tucked beneath her chin.
“You are the most devious, manipulative, sly excuse for a Rihanha I have ever had the misfortune to get mixed up with, Isha," Rh’vaurek said, his words thick with admiration, "It seems that it is my destiny for you to be above me no matter how high I rise."
“As I recall you prefer it that way,” Isha remarked wickedly, her eyes shining up through her lowered lashes.
“You’re not safe to be around,” he growled into her hair, “I don’t think I’ll let you into my embassy after all.”
“Its not yours anymore, Rh’vaurek,” Isha reminded him.
“We’ll see,” he said as Isha yawned. “Come if you like, but you’ll be subject to my rules, understood? I’m not going to amend my practices just to accommodate your sensibilities.”
“Of course you’re not,” Isha said closing her eyes, he wouldn’t be fooled by her apparent agreement, she knew, but that was an argument for another day … “Rh’vaurek?”
“What, d'Ishaal?” he asked.
“Do you mind if I go to sleep?”
“Of course not,” he replied. “I'll put on some music, and enjoy some more of this very fine Kal`iFhou and I'll try to forget that the whole Continuing Committee is snoozing in my arms.”
Isha giggled, “I hadn't thought of it that way. Are you trying to give me nightmares?” she said. “What a horrible idea!”
He smoothed her hair back, “No d'Ishaal, you rest well. You’ve given me a lot to think about and I can do that as well here as anywhere else.”
It was almost pleasantly domestic, Rh’vaurek thought as Isha’s breathing slowed. She had very skilfully twisted him into agreeing to an act of treason, albeit one that he already intended to perpetrate; Iawaiin was primed with so much disinformation that it was imperative that she defect, and without knowing it, Isha had granted him complete deniability, the lack of which had stayed his hand so far.
Rh’vaurek still preferred to think of Isha as the vivacious society girl as she was before she encountered some of the harsher realities of life. It seemed to amuse her to act that part, but he recognised that she had long since grown into something quite formidable and magnificent, so fragile, yet she carried the weight of her power with the grace and subtlety of a queen.
Isha wriggled down so that she was lying across his lap, but she did not wake. She trusted him, as far as Isha allowed herself to trust anyone, Rh’vaurek reflected, resting his hand on her shoulder. He smiled as she twisted in her sleep, her fingers reaching for his. He could forget for a moment that they were both too self assured and strong willed to be at peace for long; neither would easily yield ground and both had volatile and often savage tempers, conditions that sublimated into cruel bickering, manoeuvring and constant efforts to manipulate and unsettle one another.
He would never make it easy for her, but ultimately, and if she wanted it enough, and though Rh’vaurek would never admit it to her, he could deny Isha nothing.
OFF:
Isha t'Khellian & Rh'vaurek Raedheol (NPC)
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek
Post Details
| Title | Chamaeleons | |
| Mission | Deception: The lesser part of Valour | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek | |
| Posted | Sat Dec 13, 2008 @ 9:09am | |
| Location | Isha's quarters | |
| Timeline | So late on SD 3 that its SD4 |
“You actually seem pleased to see me,” Rh’vaurek raised an eyebrow as he slumped down on one end of Isha’s sofa. “I thought I wouldn’t be popular with you for a while after you and the doctor chased me away.”
Isha handed him the open tin of kheia she had shared with Chelsea earlier as she removed the two tall glasses they had drank from.
“What have I done to deserve this?” he asked watching Isha as she crossed the room, her silvery grey dress rippling like water over her hips as she moved.
“Leftovers, I also have a very nice Kal`iFhou open, but its a little woody for my taste, I thought you would appreciate it.” Isha said returning to place a pair of empty tumblers down on the surface of the side table with a click then standing the bottle next to them. “You’re chief pourer,” she informed him, kicking off her shoes.
“Who needs to bother with servants when you can invite willing slaves over?” Rh'vaurek said tipping about an inch of the pale blue liquid in each glass.
“Something like that,” Isha replied curling her legs beneath her, “trusted retainers get under one’s feet, whereas you I can send away as soon as I’m bored,” treating him to the tiniest smile, just to imply that she might be teasing.
Raedheol lifted his glass and swirled the liquid round, “I can always rely on you to keep me in my place. Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about, or do you just feel like company? You’ve been walking around as though you own the station today – you haven’t bought it have you?” he asked scooping the last of the roe from the tin with his finger.
“What would I do with a space station?” Isha asked cradling her glass between her palms.
“You could sell it for scrap,” Raedheol suggested licking his finger clean with a slurp.
Isha’s gaze danced across his features, the lamplight softening the wicked glint in his onyx black eyes. The barest twitch of a smile enlivened his face as he rested his arm on the back of the sofa, his body mirroring the angle of hers. Her gaze fell on the glass he rested on his knee, held loosely, his fingers spread over the rim. He had such powerful hands, Isha thought …
“Isha?”
Isha blinked and smiled, “I’m sorry, Rh’vaurek, I was miles away.”
“If you’re tired, I can leave you to sleep.”
“Stay, please … it feels as though this day has dragged on forever.” Pausing, Isha sipped from her own glass before placing it aside. “Why did you not tell me I was being followed?” she asked mildly.
“I told you that shouldn’t be wandering around the station alone,” he replied clearly thinking that warning enough.
“You see threats everywhere, Rh’vaurek! How was I supposed to know you were being serious?”
His lips split into a lopsided grin, “Maybe it’ll teach you to treat my advice with less disdain in future,” he said.
Isha tilted her head thoughtfully. He was in just the right mood, she thought, and it would serve him right for leaving her unprotected.
“Rh’vaurek, if I tell you something, do you promise not to be angry with me?” Isha asked.
“No,” he replied with a grin, “but tell me something anyway.”
“You remember that you asked me the identity of the man I had coffee with on the promenade?”
“I remember. The one you said ought to purchase a looking glass.”
Isha nodded, gazing up at him through lowered lashes, “Well, his name is Darson … but you knew that already,” she concluded, correctly reading the self-satisfied smirk that spread across his face.
Raedheol nodded, “You don’t want to get mixed up with his sort. What did he want?”
“Coffee,” Isha replied through a winsome smile, not that the man had possessed enough manners to conclude their negotiations to her satisfaction, or even to drink the beverage he had been so keen to purchase.
Rh’vaurek laughed, “If you’re going to be like this I will get angry,” he teased.
Isha laid her hand on his, his skin warm to her touch, “Be nice, Rh’vaurek. You’ve been trying very hard to frighten me into doing what you want, but why not just tell me instead of trying to keep me off balance? I’ve never really understand why you do that.”
“Because you’re less dangerous that way, d’Ishaal,” he said his thumb brushing over hers.
Isha raised an eyebrow, “You’re the only man who ever thought me dangerous,” she said.
“Others don’t see beyond your smile, and the welcoming gleam in those eyes. Under that beautifully crafted veil of charm and manners you’re wild, Isha.”
“You have one or two rough edges yourself, Rh’vaurek,” she observed.
“Anyone half as demure as you pretend to be wouldn’t be sitting alone in her quarters in the small hours of the morning with a man like me.”
“I’m curious about something,” Isha said twisting onto her knees. Her long fingers traced down his collar, just brushing his throat. “You wear nothing here, no markings, not even a hint, and even after so long you still style yourself as ‘Arrain’ … what are you really?”
“I’m a diplomat, Isha. I don’t need a rank.”
“But you have one, don’t you.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Raedheol nodded, “Look at it this way, your average Rihanha in the plaza would rather talk with a civilian than a representative of the Tal’Shiar, especially one of my standing; yourself included – if I came to you all pipped and uniformed you’d run a mile.”
Isha shook her head, “Only if I had a reason to run. You only bother me when you start using your ‘business’ tone.”
“Once again your naïve faith in the way the system works astonishes me.” Rh’vaurek leaned close to Isha, his nose almost touching hers. “If we have reason to speak with you, you have reason to run,” he said.
Isha breathed deeply, he smelled like spice and amber and that tone was a fearsome mix of oiled steel and precise intent, laced with just enough humour to remind her that he was teasing. She blinked, wordless as he gazed at her, her belly effervescing in a fizz of trepidation and desire.
“Should I be running now?” Isha breathed using all her resolve not to pounce on him as he sat back.
Raedheol shook his head, “Not from me, but maybe if I answer your question, you’ll think twice about annoying me in future,” he added thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” Isha responded.
“Someone should break you of a few of your bad habits," Rh’vaurek chuckled. "You will let me know if you ever need a volunteer, won’t you,” he offered with a resigned sigh. “OK, This isn’t known outside a very elect circle, so keep it quiet – consider it an indication of the esteem I hold for you.” He leaned in and the whisper in her ear was little more than a hiss of breath, “I’ve held the rank of Ssiebb (Colonel) for a number of years now and I expect to hold it for many more to come. Unless someone dies there’s no higher vacancy to fill.”
Isha could not help but be impressed. She understood a little better why Rh’vaurek felt able to act without restraint. If half of the rumours about the powers of the upper ranks of the Tal’Shiar were true, maybe she would have thought twice, had she known …
“How likely is that to happen?” Isha asked coyly the movement of her hair tickling her bare arms.
“Right now, promotion is not high on my agenda, besides, with one exception I don’t know who the Khrein (Generals) are.” He shrugged, “I already have more or less complete autonomy, why should I burden myself with additional paperwork? I’m as close to a desk job as I ever wish to come.”
“So you really are Latasalaem’s right hand,” she purred, her suspicions about the Senator’s actual rank and position indirectly confirmed. Who, at the end would have the greatest draw on Raedheol’s loyalty, Isha wondered, she or Latasalaem. If was not her, then Isha could not hope to win against such opponents.
Raedheol nodded placing his glass on the table. “Don’t let it concern you. I do what I have to. You were going to tell me about Darson, before you so charmingly distracted me from the topic,” he reminded her.
With few and rare exceptions Isha had kept her own counsel since she lost her husband. Considered truths, and opinions were not to be shared lightly, in the wrong hands such information could be abused. Now she had reached the point where she had to share, and though she had chosen her poise and her moment with purpose and care, Isha was no longer certain that she could guide the conversation where she needed it to go.
“Isha, you obviously want to tell me something. You can trust me,” Raedheol said.
Can I? Isha wondered.
It was her move in their protracted game of Caevra Rihannsu (Romulan Chess - literally, Romulan Heart) and her action would begin the end-game; one of the three contenders would lose and of the two left playing, it remained to be seen if there would be an ultimate winner. If nothing else, Rh’vaurek’s reaction would give Isha some indication of his own strategy while the three of them were still standing.
When Isha had originally told Chelsea that she could offer no assistance to Iawaiin she had not been entirely truthful, aiding a person wholly unknown to her did not give Isha sufficient motivation to begin a process that could change her relationship with Rh’vaurek forever. But if Darson came through with the information she had requested, the risk of forcing Rh’vaurek to choose whose side he was on would be worth it.
Dropping her hands into her lap Isha glanced at Rh’vaurek as she spoke, “Darson approached me just after lunch. He said that he had a proposition and I chose to hear it. He then told me that he wished to engage my assistance in a certain matter.”
“What matter?”
Catching her thumbnail between her teeth, Isha suddenly became very interested in the way the fabric of her gown fell across her knees, “He told me that you have custody of a woman named Verelan Iawaiin.”
“Darson told you this?” Raedheol asked, neither explicitly confirming nor denying the claim.
She nodded. “He seemed to think she was in some sort of trouble … he told me that because he was barred from the embassy he needed someone to act on his behalf.”
Isha jumped as Rh’vaurek slammed his open hand down hard on the arm of the sofa, “Kriheis'ei!” he swore, “He asked you to do this? You were right, I am angry, with both of you. I’m more than a little sorry you’re the only conspirator here, I could at least get some satisfaction from breaking his teeth.”
Isha remained still, her eyes averted. “I told him that even to suggest such a thing to me was inciting me to commit an act of treason,” she said.
“Yet you continued to speak with him,” Raedheol snapped, his tone devoid of its earlier humour.
“That’s the voice I was talking about,” Isha said, “Speak to me as though I’m a person not a vang'radam!”
“Stop behaving like one and I might,” he countered, “What did he offer?”
Isha swallowed, “Latinum, at first, then he offered to distract our paranoid Agent Gabriel – I actually got the impression that their relationship is barely cordial. It’s my guess that he’d welcome an excuse to interfere with whatever our Rihannsu despising intelligence officer is working on ...”
“I’m not interested in your speculation. Stick to the point.”
“You’re no fun when you’re like this,” Isha complained.
“Look at me!” he barked. "This is serious! Stop acting like a child!"
Without a word Isha complied, meeting his dark exasperated glare. “Just tell me you reached no agreement and give me your word that you will forget that you ever heard the name Verelan Iawaiin. Understood?” he said.
Isha rolled her lower lip between her teeth as he continued to stare at her.
“Its not quite that simple, Rh’vaurek,” Isha said eventually, “Darson offered to make certain confidential information available to me, and, well, I asked if the offer extended to records surrounding the communications of certain individuals in whom I have an interest.”
Raedheol's anger propelled him to his feet, “You ARE dangerous, to yourself if nobody else. What in areinnye (hell) do you plan to do if Darson comes back with the information you requested?”
He stopped a few paces away from the sofa and turned back to her, “You can’t give him what he wants and he’s not going to accept NOTHING in return. Do you actually expect me to close my eyes while you wander in and take Iawaiin?” he raged. “I’ll not do that! I swear that if you so much as step foot in my embassy …”
“You’ll what?” Isha interrupted sharply. “If Darson comes back with my information I want you to release her, or stage her escape or however you prefer to arrange it.”
“You cannot ask this of me.”
“I’m sorry, Rh’vaurek,” Isha said, the edge of her tone as sharp as the glint in her eye, “but you have misunderstood my meaning. I am not asking you to do this, I am telling you.”
“You don’t have the authority to command me,” his words crackling with ire.
“Actually, I do.” Isha dipped a finger into her décolletage, and with a hook and a flick a flat round object dropped into her waiting palm. She held the seal out to him. “I had hoped I wouldn’t have to reveal this to you, because it complicates things between us.”
He snatched the disc from between her fingers but as he examined it his outrage visibly dissipated, his face falling into what Isha thought to be a delightful crumple of confusion and relief.
“We envisaged that certain actions might be necessary and so this was given to me, the delegation of authority conveyed by that seal is mine. In the name of the Continuing Committee I order you to release that woman,” Isha said.
"How long have you had this?" Raedheol asked, returning to his seat both deflated and perplexed.
"Long enough," she replied, which was not really an answer at all, but then she was only supplying him with part of the truth; the rest could wait until the time was right.
He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, the seal held loosely between his palms, “Why reveal it now?” he asked.
"Because this is the first time you have been unwilling, or I should say, unable to accommodate my request. Rh’vaurek, the location of Deep Space Five is of strategic importance, our government is forming tentative connections with the Federation, and that we have been able to establish and maintain a presence here is a significant achievement. But there have been concerns that your operation is becoming too much of an independent faction.”
Isha paused, but when he did not speak she continued, “Your master, Latasalaem has recently trodden heavily on a few extremely sensitive toes and you Rh’vaurek, you have acquired a certain and I’m sure well deserved reputation for casual brutality, indeed some say that you demonstrate all the subtlety of a klivam (klingon). The Continuing Committee needs to be certain that our presence here does not draw any undue attention from our hosts.”
“You’re going to hold me responsible for a defection, and shut me down,” he said closing his eyes. He tossed the seal onto the table and as it clattered to a halt the hand on his knee clenched in a tight fist, "is that how it ends?"
A smile tugged at the edges of Isha’s lips. This was a cruel sport, and she left him waiting for an answer a just little longer than necessary. “The consul Liun will be held responsible. You are merely his Chief Aide, not even his Chief of Staff, yes? How could a minor functionary possibly be to blame?” Isha said mildly. “Liun will be removed and your operation will remain intact, for as long as I am convinced that you are working in the interests of the Empire.”
Raedheol turned his head towards Isha, “Senior Diplomatic Aide," he corrected her slowly then shook his head. "Every time I think I know you another layer splits open and something unexpected crawls out. You could have told me. You could have trusted me!” a plaintive note creeping into his tone.
“That still remains to be seen,” Isha said smoothly without elaboration.
Raedheol contemplated her response for a moment before speaking. “I made you a promise, Isha, on my life. I’ll not renege on that,” he assured her.
Isha nodded, the expression on her face enigmatic and calm.
“Who will replace Liun?” Rh’vaurek asked with sudden suspicion.
“I will,” Isha replied, “for some reason they seemed to believe that I can keep you under control.”
He laughed then, a slow rich chuckle. “I never suspected any of this. All those favours you’ve wheedled out of me in the past, you could have just demanded them.”
“That wouldn’t have been so much fun though, would it? Persuading you to do anything is always a challenge.”
“By persuading, you mean shamelessly manipulating.”
“You’re the expert in that field, Rh'vaurek. Though I must admit you’re less dangerous when you’re off balance,” Isha replied throwing his earlier words back at him.
“Do you want to bet on that?” he asked darkly. “You planned this. Every bloody move! You knew what I was going to do, how I was going to react and you played me. Damned lluadh (sneak), do you have no ethics?”
“I learned from some very dubious men,” Isha said. “Rh’vaurek, the possession of that authority is sensitive and could be abused if it became widely known. Please don’t disclose this knowledge to anyone, no matter their relationship with you,” by which Isha meant his superior, Latasalaem. “If that happens I will have to take appropriate steps.”
“Are you threatening me?” he snorted.
"I don’t threaten people, Rh’vaurek, you know me better than that. I'm merely explaining the situation to you,” Isha shrugged, barely able to contain her smirk.
He fell back against the cushions. "Dangerous!" he muttered very loudly. His arm lolling loosely over the arm of the sofa, "So, Rekkhai, what are your orders?"
“You're not answerable to me, merely helping me, safe in the knowledge that any action you take has the full backing of your government. Call me Ihhei if you feel the need for titles, but as you know, I'm just an ordinary girl from ch'Rihan,” she said.
“If you are a typical product of Ra'tleifhi's inbred elite, I'm a Klingon's grandmother.”
Isha wrinkled her nose in distaste, “I wondered what that smell was,” Isha said. She extended a hand, her fingertips brushing his brow, “you do seem a little 'ridgy' today, shoo ataen'dhenn Klivam (filthy Klingon)!” she said waving him away.
“Dangerous, dangerous woman,” he muttered closing his fingers around Isha’s wrist and pulling her from her knees so she fell somewhat awkwardly across his lap. Isha drew her legs up and eased herself into a more comfortable position in the nook between his arm and his chest, her hands tucked beneath her chin.
“You are the most devious, manipulative, sly excuse for a Rihanha I have ever had the misfortune to get mixed up with, Isha," Rh’vaurek said, his words thick with admiration, "It seems that it is my destiny for you to be above me no matter how high I rise."
“As I recall you prefer it that way,” Isha remarked wickedly, her eyes shining up through her lowered lashes.
“You’re not safe to be around,” he growled into her hair, “I don’t think I’ll let you into my embassy after all.”
“Its not yours anymore, Rh’vaurek,” Isha reminded him.
“We’ll see,” he said as Isha yawned. “Come if you like, but you’ll be subject to my rules, understood? I’m not going to amend my practices just to accommodate your sensibilities.”
“Of course you’re not,” Isha said closing her eyes, he wouldn’t be fooled by her apparent agreement, she knew, but that was an argument for another day … “Rh’vaurek?”
“What, d'Ishaal?” he asked.
“Do you mind if I go to sleep?”
“Of course not,” he replied. “I'll put on some music, and enjoy some more of this very fine Kal`iFhou and I'll try to forget that the whole Continuing Committee is snoozing in my arms.”
Isha giggled, “I hadn't thought of it that way. Are you trying to give me nightmares?” she said. “What a horrible idea!”
He smoothed her hair back, “No d'Ishaal, you rest well. You’ve given me a lot to think about and I can do that as well here as anywhere else.”
It was almost pleasantly domestic, Rh’vaurek thought as Isha’s breathing slowed. She had very skilfully twisted him into agreeing to an act of treason, albeit one that he already intended to perpetrate; Iawaiin was primed with so much disinformation that it was imperative that she defect, and without knowing it, Isha had granted him complete deniability, the lack of which had stayed his hand so far.
Rh’vaurek still preferred to think of Isha as the vivacious society girl as she was before she encountered some of the harsher realities of life. It seemed to amuse her to act that part, but he recognised that she had long since grown into something quite formidable and magnificent, so fragile, yet she carried the weight of her power with the grace and subtlety of a queen.
Isha wriggled down so that she was lying across his lap, but she did not wake. She trusted him, as far as Isha allowed herself to trust anyone, Rh’vaurek reflected, resting his hand on her shoulder. He smiled as she twisted in her sleep, her fingers reaching for his. He could forget for a moment that they were both too self assured and strong willed to be at peace for long; neither would easily yield ground and both had volatile and often savage tempers, conditions that sublimated into cruel bickering, manoeuvring and constant efforts to manipulate and unsettle one another.
He would never make it easy for her, but ultimately, and if she wanted it enough, and though Rh’vaurek would never admit it to her, he could deny Isha nothing.
OFF:
Isha t'Khellian & Rh'vaurek Raedheol (NPC)