Twenty-Five Years 10 - Alliances Tested
Sep. 13th, 2009 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsPrevious Chapters and Series Notes here
Annnnnnnd we're back. Sorry for the extra delay, but school has started up, and I have less time to write even short things. The series wil continue, but I am not going to be able to promise a section a week - hopefull I can manage one every two. We shall see! Thanks this time to my sister,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
longpig for betaing, as earis is in the midst of moving across the continent/country. If she thinks, however, that this will give her long term reprieve from her duties, she is sadly mistaken ^-^
Twenty-five Years 10 – Alliances
Saleema stood off to the side, whispering things to H’Man she must have known would get passed along to his commander. She was keeping secrets from her own, or from the guards keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Ayel only recognized a few of them, despite having been on the prison gulag for almost two month. The doctor’s expression had soured as soon as the alien woman approached him, but he nodded occasionally.
Ayel let his attention drift elsewhere. H’Man was trustworthy, and he couldn’t be blamed for his reluctance. Saleema’s personal goals might unrealistic and unpalatable, but his involvement way key to this negotiation. At least nothing she wanted was threatening to the Rihannsu. Unless it costs us H’Man. But Nero had considered that, and here they stood regardless, waiting in silence while she hatched her little plots. He glanced sideways. The captain’s face was impassive: mouth drawn tight, eyes cold and glittering, watching or thinking or both. He didn’t acknowledge Ayel.
Finally, there was movement among the guards, and one of the security doors on the mezzanine slid open. Q’Vul did not disappoint his expectations. The descriptions T’Lalea had gathered were quite accurate. The Klingon was short for one of his kind, and his eyes bugged out from beneath his ridges of his brow in a manner hat reminded Ayel of a picture he’d once seen of Chancellor Gowron. His features wore a sour, suspicious look, but there was cunning in his gaze as he took in the Rihannsu party. They could use him, or at least work with him.
Saleema was allowed up to his level, and they whispered briefly together as she took his arm. She was notably taller, and probably stronger as well, but apparently allowed herself to be possessed. It was easy to believe she’d been a spy.
“Introductions, then,” she announced. Q’Vul shook his head, clapping his hand over her arm to command her silence. If she resented it, she kept it well hidden.
“Not necessary. They know who I am. I certainly know them – names and numbers. And profession too, if you haven’t been lying to my woman. Two of you can come up here and try to sell me on whatever little scheme you have in mind. Choose well, and choose fast.”
Partway though his speech, his protruding eyes had settled on Nero, and the orders had been addressed to him. Ayel almost stepped forward before Nero nodded to him. Instead of selecting himself as the second, however, the captain indicated H’Man. Ayel’s surprise barely registered before it passed. It made sense. T’Lalea scowled, but it was doubtful that any combination would have satisfied her.
Guards approached the two of them, and removed makeshift knives from both. The search had been inevitable, but it was better to give them something to find. Luckily, none of Maunn’s cronies were part of the detail. Or it might not be luck... He glanced from where T’Lalea stood fuming to Saleema, whispering again in her patron’s ear as she watched the Rihannsu from the corner of her eye.
He and H’Man were ushered upstairs, then marched a few paces behind Q’Vul through a maze of grated off rooms. The geophysicist picked one, seemingly at random, and ordered the escort to wait outside. There wasn’t much to the place. Crates labelled in Klingon were stacked on three sides of the room, and Q’Vul seated himself on one of these. Saleema took up her place to his right, resting her hand on his shoulder as the guards exited. Their host grinned, barring his teeth.
“Let’s talk, then.”
----------------
Nero nodded as he described the meeting. He’d scavenged paper somewhere, and folded it into a small book. He wrote as Ayel spoke, but whether the notes were related to the conversation was anyone’s guess.
“H’Man gave a surprisingly fiery tirade on nutrition. There’s not enough copperin the slop they serve. Shocking. He told me after that without it, none of us will last two years here, let alone twenty. The Klingon agreed we would have to introduce things slowly. I said five years for the processors, minimum. He agreed to two, if we start with stabilizers now.
“He’ll start having out quotas reduced when we send him someone reliable. He’s expecting us to need the initial reduction to manage the loss of a worker. I say we send him one of the women – they should be recovered by now. Maybe Aifn or Rihain. They’re both qualified and loyal. Rihain is only a technician. She might be better. T’Lalea will know better which can be spared.”
Nero had stopped writing, and was watching thoughtfully instead. There was distance in his gaze – his thoughts were elsewhere.
Ayel paused, hoping the silence might bridge that disconnect – that his time and efforts weren’t in fact being ignored. Nothing. “This is your plan.” He resisted adding ‘sir.’ It shouldn’t be about rank, not between them, and not for this. Nero stood, setting aside his notes, and laid a hand on his shoulder. He met Ayel’s eyes and briefly bowed his head. Honour due to honour – Mnhei’sahe.
The tension seemed to dissipate – a spark extinguished.
“I’ll speak to her.”
Nero nodded again, turning back to his book. Notes and sketches, a brief look revealed. Ayel closed the makeshift door of the partition, and found T’Lalea waiting at his bunk. Was she listening?
“All is well?” She rose and fell in to step as he wound through the Narada enclave.
“Yes.” He told her quietly what they needed, but his heart was less certain of his answer. The fire was gone, but the air remained smoky.
Annnnnnnd we're back. Sorry for the extra delay, but school has started up, and I have less time to write even short things. The series wil continue, but I am not going to be able to promise a section a week - hopefull I can manage one every two. We shall see! Thanks this time to my sister,
longpig for betaing, as earis is in the midst of moving across the continent/country. If she thinks, however, that this will give her long term reprieve from her duties, she is sadly mistaken ^-^Twenty-five Years 10 – Alliances
Saleema stood off to the side, whispering things to H’Man she must have known would get passed along to his commander. She was keeping secrets from her own, or from the guards keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Ayel only recognized a few of them, despite having been on the prison gulag for almost two month. The doctor’s expression had soured as soon as the alien woman approached him, but he nodded occasionally.
Ayel let his attention drift elsewhere. H’Man was trustworthy, and he couldn’t be blamed for his reluctance. Saleema’s personal goals might unrealistic and unpalatable, but his involvement way key to this negotiation. At least nothing she wanted was threatening to the Rihannsu. Unless it costs us H’Man. But Nero had considered that, and here they stood regardless, waiting in silence while she hatched her little plots. He glanced sideways. The captain’s face was impassive: mouth drawn tight, eyes cold and glittering, watching or thinking or both. He didn’t acknowledge Ayel.
Finally, there was movement among the guards, and one of the security doors on the mezzanine slid open. Q’Vul did not disappoint his expectations. The descriptions T’Lalea had gathered were quite accurate. The Klingon was short for one of his kind, and his eyes bugged out from beneath his ridges of his brow in a manner hat reminded Ayel of a picture he’d once seen of Chancellor Gowron. His features wore a sour, suspicious look, but there was cunning in his gaze as he took in the Rihannsu party. They could use him, or at least work with him.
Saleema was allowed up to his level, and they whispered briefly together as she took his arm. She was notably taller, and probably stronger as well, but apparently allowed herself to be possessed. It was easy to believe she’d been a spy.
“Introductions, then,” she announced. Q’Vul shook his head, clapping his hand over her arm to command her silence. If she resented it, she kept it well hidden.
“Not necessary. They know who I am. I certainly know them – names and numbers. And profession too, if you haven’t been lying to my woman. Two of you can come up here and try to sell me on whatever little scheme you have in mind. Choose well, and choose fast.”
Partway though his speech, his protruding eyes had settled on Nero, and the orders had been addressed to him. Ayel almost stepped forward before Nero nodded to him. Instead of selecting himself as the second, however, the captain indicated H’Man. Ayel’s surprise barely registered before it passed. It made sense. T’Lalea scowled, but it was doubtful that any combination would have satisfied her.
Guards approached the two of them, and removed makeshift knives from both. The search had been inevitable, but it was better to give them something to find. Luckily, none of Maunn’s cronies were part of the detail. Or it might not be luck... He glanced from where T’Lalea stood fuming to Saleema, whispering again in her patron’s ear as she watched the Rihannsu from the corner of her eye.
He and H’Man were ushered upstairs, then marched a few paces behind Q’Vul through a maze of grated off rooms. The geophysicist picked one, seemingly at random, and ordered the escort to wait outside. There wasn’t much to the place. Crates labelled in Klingon were stacked on three sides of the room, and Q’Vul seated himself on one of these. Saleema took up her place to his right, resting her hand on his shoulder as the guards exited. Their host grinned, barring his teeth.
“Let’s talk, then.”
----------------
Nero nodded as he described the meeting. He’d scavenged paper somewhere, and folded it into a small book. He wrote as Ayel spoke, but whether the notes were related to the conversation was anyone’s guess.
“H’Man gave a surprisingly fiery tirade on nutrition. There’s not enough copperin the slop they serve. Shocking. He told me after that without it, none of us will last two years here, let alone twenty. The Klingon agreed we would have to introduce things slowly. I said five years for the processors, minimum. He agreed to two, if we start with stabilizers now.
“He’ll start having out quotas reduced when we send him someone reliable. He’s expecting us to need the initial reduction to manage the loss of a worker. I say we send him one of the women – they should be recovered by now. Maybe Aifn or Rihain. They’re both qualified and loyal. Rihain is only a technician. She might be better. T’Lalea will know better which can be spared.”
Nero had stopped writing, and was watching thoughtfully instead. There was distance in his gaze – his thoughts were elsewhere.
Ayel paused, hoping the silence might bridge that disconnect – that his time and efforts weren’t in fact being ignored. Nothing. “This is your plan.” He resisted adding ‘sir.’ It shouldn’t be about rank, not between them, and not for this. Nero stood, setting aside his notes, and laid a hand on his shoulder. He met Ayel’s eyes and briefly bowed his head. Honour due to honour – Mnhei’sahe.
The tension seemed to dissipate – a spark extinguished.
“I’ll speak to her.”
Nero nodded again, turning back to his book. Notes and sketches, a brief look revealed. Ayel closed the makeshift door of the partition, and found T’Lalea waiting at his bunk. Was she listening?
“All is well?” She rose and fell in to step as he wound through the Narada enclave.
“Yes.” He told her quietly what they needed, but his heart was less certain of his answer. The fire was gone, but the air remained smoky.
