If Plan A Doesn't Work, There's 25 More Letters
Posted on Fri Feb 26th, 2021 @ 12:03am by Subcommander Kaiae t'Lien & Lieutenant Hatham tr'Krotash
2,323 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
Chapter III: The Hunt is On
Location: Kaiae's Quarters, IRW Ourainavassa
Timeline: 238701.24
Most of an entire cup of tea - and two painkiller tablets from the first aid kit in her side table--had so far failed to entirely settle Kaiae's headache. She was fairly certain though that nothing would, at this point. Or could. The betrayal of their own government and leaders, in their blatant refusal to even often acknowledge, let alone attempt to solve, the crisis that threatened to take the lives of so many of their people. Then the betrayal of those they had deigned for perhaps the first time to trust, only to be proven correct in not having done so before. The situation and options that had been laid before her by Commander Areinnye; the decisions she had made when it had been; that the Senate's betrayal of their oaths to the Empire and it's people meant that her own, in turn, was perhaps more kept true now in, technically, it's breaking.
The events since; and the responsibilities laid at her feet in such.
During Earlier Visit To Drozana Station By Raven's Blade
Kaiae was reasonably sure she'd spent the last few days mostly bailing out junior officers and crewmen who'd had run ins with what passed for the local establishment--which most of the time seemed to mean either paying the demanded price to have them look the other way as to whatever crime they felt had been committed; negotiating a lower one; or finding some way to threaten the party in question into caving on their demands entirely. A few of the incidents in question involved behavior definitely NOT considered suitable for those in the service of the Empire; and a good deal of the rest of her time had been spent dishing out appropriate discipline for those; wondering and trying to assess in her mind exactly which points of leadership she was getting wrong, that she could not keep those now under her command from such behavior, regardless of their current berthing and exposure to those more apt to engage in it. Still, she retained more than enough of her own training and reflexes to bring an arm to her chest in an automatic salute without even thinking, when the next corridor she rounded turned out to contain someone in a full commander's uniform. It was a slight moment later that the identity of the woman occupying it registered, and the reflexively proper expression on Kaiae's face tinged with rather extreme relief.
"Commander." Kaiae was still holding the salute, as Areinnye, focused on the PADD in her hand, continued towards her--or rather towards the end of the corridor she was in-- without seeming notice. Kaiae's own head, meanwhile, was spinning anew with analysis and consideration to match her relief. Areinnye's abrupt recall and departure earlier, the lack of communication since, combined with the potentially dire message sent by her own highly unusual and abrupt promotion (especially without accompanying orders to a new post)...Together it painted a picture of likely complications and political peril the likes of which many did not survive, and that those who did rarely were able to extricate themselves from with any haste. The commander's sudden reappearance, however much of a relief to her, was also therefore a surprise in the extreme.
“Lieuten...That is, Subcommander.” Areinnye said, genuinely glad to see Kaiae alive and unharmed. Even moreso that the Commander’s plan to elevate her rank had been carried out. It had cost Areinnye no latinum, no material goods... only the exchange of a few words. Information that would help one ambitious, spiteful man destroy another. Secrets of that level were the preferred tender among the upper rungs of society.
She returned the salute and gestured for the woman to walk with her. “I have recently seen the newest Colonel of the Tal Shiar...” Areinnye said, letting the unspoken hang in the air.
"Then you've been informed as to the attack." It was more a statement of fact than a question, but just-so in the tone of Kaiae's voice to leave enough of an out for both of them if it somehow happened that she had not been.
Areinnye’s face drained at hearing again of the flotilla. Thousands of people in the care of General Dorvaela and herself. If they were dead, so too was all hope of the escape. She blamed herself for their plight. “I have. We must find them. And the sooner the better.”
"Yes." There was a brief pause before Kaiae's next words, as the determined fire in her voice gave way to careful phrasing. "I am glad you have managed to return, however. The circumstances indicated...otherwise." A bland and roundabout way, to say that 'political misadventure' was one of the most common causes of death among Romulans of a certain rank or social strata (of which a noble born commander checked both boxes); and that to Kaiae's read of the situation, all indications were that Areinnye had been caught up in such.
“To be honest, now that I have found out what’s happened since I left, I feel like it was a fool’s errand. I may have cost our people their lives” she admitted. A Commander rarely owned their mistakes in front of the crew. But Kaiae was one of the few people Areinnye felt deserved the truth, unreservedly.
"I doubt a single addition would have made much difference, given the description of the incident by the survivors. Not unless it was of a ship far more powerful and modern than this." Kaiae waved a hand at the bulkhead. "Or more likely, of several of them. Unfortunately, some of the personnel who had pledged to our cause chose to depart after that loss." There was a long pause for a moment. "I am uncertain it was wise to allow them to do so. If they choose to speak on the effort and expose the plan, we will be branded traitors to the Empire and lose any remaining access, as well. And active pursuit, should it be ordered, would be a threat as well." Her tone shifted slightly, to the point that it sounded as if her next words perhaps left a bad taste in her mouth. "It may be wise to eliminate the risk."
“And now you show me exactly why I have placed faith in you.” Areinnye said earnestly. “But first, we must locate our people, else there will be little to hide, or to save” said the commander.
"Do you...have further orders for us now, then; beyond securing the ship?" Kaiae's head spun with the implications; it made logical sense, with the resources apparently available and the situation as it was, to divide and conquer, as the humans put it. That one of those divisions fell to her, however, was still a bit of a shock to her grasp of the order of things.
“As I said, we must find the refugees. Otherwise this entire operation will have been a costly failure. I cannot allow that.” Areinnye said solemnly.
But Areinnye had departed again soon after; and there had been no contact since, leaving Kaiae now more uncertain each day, not less; wondering once again about the odds of such 'political misadventure'. But now it was not merely the permanent sort that she felt stress at the possibilities of, but even the sort that could be merely delaying the commander; as the tick of time moved unrelenting towards a conclusion that no longer left them a margin to wait, if they were to succeed in even some small measure in saving any more of their kind than those the Vulture had taken. Hatham's report on the...idiosyncrasies...concerning Ellie Greaves after she had sworn herself to the task made matters more urgent still.
The door chimed, and Kaiae set the tea down and eyeballed a scan of the other side of the door, noting with frustration her hands were shaking slightly and forcing herself to take several deep breaths to center herself further. "Enter!"
Hatham came through the door back straight, PaDD tucked under his arm, as though reporting for some official business. "Subcommander," he said coming forward and laying the PaDD on her desk, tapped a code and added a thumbprint to changed the screen to a file of their plans. Such as they were at present. "The report you requested."
Kaiae's hand reached out to flick the switch on the jamming device she had in her pocket: Just in case she had missed any bugs in her quarters the Tal Shiar had left behind. Or the pirates for that matter. She was a comms officer, not an intelligence officer; there was always the chance she'd missed one. Her eyes flicked rapidly over the information, then she looked up at Hatham, expectantly: There were always things not in the written report; and in a situation like this; the "report" was little more than the most current version of a list; the actual updates of any kind were too sensitive to commit to written record most likely.
"Given ...recent developments..." Hatham cleared his throat slightly, "we must consider accelerating the time table." It was the most delicate way he could put the need for her to make arrangements for her family.
"Unless the ship you're considering is massive, we still have the same problem." She grimaced; her branch of the noble house her mother claimed membership in had been tangential for generations; blood diluted to such a degree that one differed from the average citizen in the legal sense by nothing more than a few extra rights, privileges, and obligations. By such, that is...And the fact that being among such, even if in little more than name, meant you would draw likely more notice in your sudden disappearance. You might vanish a knight from the chessboard more easily than a queen, but in the end someone would eventually notice long before they noticed a missing pawn. Though the irony of the room's two occupants mulling over the issues they were and their mutual problem perhaps was proof the universe had a twisted sense of humor: The man who's kin had been discarded dishonorably by the great house they had served...And the woman who had never ranked near highly enough in the one she counted among to have anyone serve her at all. "It will take far less time for the authorities to note an absence. Assuming, of course, they don't decide to condemn my actions, and the rest of us with it." At least the city her parents lived in was far from the capital; had that been the case she would have assumed little hope at all of extricating any of her family.
Hatham nodded sympathetically; he might have little loyalty left for a system that protected the sort of nobles who had cast his family aside, but he also remembered the old Head of House, who had been generous and good. Moreover, he knew Kaiae's family was much removed from a place where they might exercise power in either way. In many ways she was in the worse position now - caught between conflicting expectations and the levels of society. "Yes, which means they may have to be the last out. But that means the plans must be even more carefully prepared."
"Alright. I'll...handle making contact." The level of trepidation about facing her parents and grandparents, even in abstentia, as to the current situation she had pledged herself to reminded her uncomfortably of a variety of teenage mischief, but with far more serious consequences. "How are we coming on the rest of it?"
The big Romulan pursed his lips, almost as though the answer he was about to give had a bitter taste. "There may have an option for alternative transport, or at least something to add to our list on contingency plans. Friends of Rogers' ex, who it would appear is our new chef." It was only by the habit of long training that he managed to state that matter-of-factly, with only a hint of wary disbelief at the situation in his otherwise neutral expression.
"The chef." The tone of Kaiae's voice wasn't that she was surprised to find a chef with a hand in intruige; rather the opposite, many chefs found themselves pulled into such for similar reasons in a sense that many comm officers did, and tended to develop decent skills as a result. But the exact nature of the sorts of threats a chef might pose would generally preclude hiring one you had a negative history with. "Someone hired their ex as a chef. It must have been an amicable separation; or Rogers has a deathwish...."
"I'm not sure amicable is quite the right word..." Hatham remarked dryly. "But the level of animosity does not appear to rise to the level of mortal threat, and the chef has connections on a level with Rogers' and seems sincere in her desire to help."
"Fine, then. It's generally best not to annoy a chef, regardless. When the details are further known, report again. I may wish to discuss the issue personally with those involved when the time comes." That she was not doing so now was a compartmentalization of sorts - trying to keep herself disentangled for the moment from the parts of the operation most likely to be discovered; leave distance and doubt that might even then help keep her in such a place as to try and ensure the safety of as many of those she had been entrusted with as possible, rather than being dismissed or struck down for involvement if the plan went ill. There would come a time though when pieces would begin moving with too much speed and complexity to maintain such, however.
RSS Feed