Old School and New
Posted on 12 Feb 2024 @ 4:01pm by Commander Calliope Zahn & Lieutenant Commander Maurice Rubens
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: OC Ruebens Residence
Timeline: Day 22 afternoon
2502 words - 5 OF Standard Post Measure
“The Free State is exactly like the Empire in all ways, except for its approach to the Federation. And the Tal Shiar has a smidge less influence. They lost some political power when the supernova happened. Many Romulans blame them for all of the deaths, something many of the leading aristocratic families encouraged.”
Rice was in his kitchen, carving up apples for a strudel. He had to talk louder so that Honor, Gordon, and Ernesh could hear him over the blade beating against the cutting board. He liked to cook or bake when having these conversations: it helped focus his mind.
“There are about three dozen political parties in the Free State now. I got to be honest though, I’ve always thought it was more Romulan subterfuge to hide the fact that it’s really only one big party. Maybe two depending on how you look at it. It looks like a thriving democracy so the Federation has cover to recognize the Free State over the Republic without looking ‘undemocratic.’ Federation politics being what it is now, that’s easy for our current administration to do.”
He looked up, realizing too late that he didn’t know the political persuasion of Gordon nor Ernesh, but neither looked as if they’d been scandalized by the comment. He went back to chopping.
“There are little differences. Of all the parties, the Vi Party is the most pro-Federation. And Inimik is their third-in-command. So even though she’s the Deputy Minister for Shipyard Logistics, she has some pull.”
Ernesh was settling and resettling in his seat as Rice went on about influence and parties. The sofa’s depth just was a little shy of accommodating him nicely and he eventually settled for shifting a little forward rather than reclining. Gordon tried not to be distracted by all of the shuffling. While he was familiar with the general news coming out of the Romulan territories, he was especially keen to listen to how Rice was framing and summarizing it. Feeling his own seat angling into the sunken gravity well Ernesh was forming, he elected to stand, sip his drink and observe the apple chopping enterprise instead.
“Most of the Free State’s influence is further galactic south than the Republic’s,” Gordon said, looking away through the ceiling and into a chart of stars in his memory. “The matter of the Pyrryxian incursions is more the concern to the northern reaches…” he trailed off, his question more implied than stated.
“You were around for the Dominion. They were right up in the Empire’s business - destroyed that Tal Shiar fleet and all - and the Romulans couldn’t rouse themselves to action until that Senator was assassinated. They care when they care, astrometrical charts have never really mattered. They claim all of the old Empire’s space anyhow. At least that’s the same!”
“Borders, like Fences, are only in the mind….” Ernesh agreed. He pulled a small cushion out from behind him and stuffed it into the side instead, raising the armrest to a more comfortable height.
Gordon made a face, pressing his mouth closed as if refraining from commenting quite on that point.
“Listen, I’m not going to lie to you. As I told Honor earlier, the Republic would be better allies even if they are smaller and weaker at the moment. They don’t lie and subterfuge isn’t really their thing. But the politics are what they are. Unless…” Rice stopped cutting and looked up at Gordon. “Did you want to change Federation foreign policy? We can make that happen. There are ways.”
Gordon was all but frowning, his arms crossed lightly while still holding his glass. He didn’t like the way the policy landed and it seemed like pissing into the wind to go to speak with a party member in a region for which the Pyrryx posed little if any immediate threat. But Rubens wasn’t wrong. “I suppose,” He said, “We should follow legitimate channels before we consider setting fire to the delicate political balance.” He took a swig of his drink and sighed. “We have to make inroads somewhere. Hopefully this contact will have some regard for the security of their Northern compatriots and won’t write it off like Mongolia.”
“They’d like nothing more than to send a fleet of ships into Republic space and other nearby warlords."
“We’d be handing them an excuse to occupy it,” said Gordon.
“That’s also the rub. Even though they claim the space, they might not want to touch off a full-blown war with their fellow Romulans. There’s a chance they’d lose. Big time. Not all of the Romulan Navy ended up in the Free State. And the Republic have a couple strategists and tacticians that should give everyone pause. A few of the warlords are themselves noted military leaders.”
Tipping off a war between the two loosely affiliated factions was not on Gordon’s agenda. But it was easy to see how heralding an outside threat could trigger conflict.
“You’ll need to have a loose idea about how to stop warfare from breaking out, but you’ve got some time to figure that out,” Rice waved away the issue with his knife, “Inimik isn’t going to care about any of that. She’ll want to know what the Federation is prepared to do to help her ascend the ranks. Secretly of course.”
“Is that something we do?” Ernesh asked. Although listening, he was more than a little distracted by the aroma of the apples and spices.
“No! —Well,” Gordon hurrumphed darkly. “At least it’s not something the Exterior Department tries to get involved in. Not officially. We’re not going to be stacking any decks for anyone.” He touched his cool glass against his forehead, as if staving off a headache he anticipated having. “Not to mention I haven’t that kind of influence even if I wanted to use it.”
Honor, who’d been quietly listening to the exchange, shot Rice a warning look. It was exactly the thing he’d been involved in during his time on Vvanti and after when he was the undersecretary. He shrugged helplessly. “‘Not officially’ covers all sorts of sins, but in this case she’ll most likely want access to the Artifact research the Federation has put together the last few years.”
“The ‘Artifact’?” Gordon prompted. It sounded like a name from some adventure holonovel or spy who-dun-it with a mythical dark magic twist. “There hasn’t been mention of an ‘Artifact’ of concern in any of the FNS reports…” While Gordon had come up as a correspondent himself, he had a lot of respect for news reporting. And yet even as he said it, he knew enough from his experience about suppression of the news and the red tape of trying to push something through publication when your editors and producers seemed to have something else breathing down their necks. “What kind of name is ‘the Artifact’?”
“The Artifact is the best kept not-really-a-secret-but-basically-a-secret in the Federation. It’s not technically classified, but the Federation doesn’t exactly go around advertising it. It’s a defunct Borg Cube that the Empire managed to capture just before the supernova, though the Free State is vague on those details and how they ended up with it. In any case, the Federation managed to obscure it as the source of the many recent technological advances, all of which makes our current government leaders look like geniuses and not the dipshi…” Rice cleared his throat and tossed a slice of apple, chewing as he added wryly, “Think about the panic that would ensue if people suddenly discovered that the things that turned us into mindless cyborgs were being used in recent medical devices.”
Ernesh subconsciously held a hand over his heart, concerned that the lauded state of the art nanotech used to reconstruct his artery might not have been as advertised. He gulped.
Rice swallowed the apple, “To help with all this the Cube is in Free State space, so it’s not like the Romulans are going to let the media come in for a visit. And the researchers keep their mouths shut because the Federation is too busy handing out bigger and better projects, awards, and medals. No one wants to jeopardize that relationship.”
Gordon absorbed this revelation with the frown still fixed. “We’re reverse engineering borg technology? In partnership with the Free State? What kind of technology are we talking about here?”
“For starters, that ship you flew in on.” He swallowed the apple. “I was part of those negotiations to get the team who built that ship access to the Artifact. It still took them a few years to get it to work, so that was what? Seven years of work? From what they told me at the time they were a good thirty to forty years away before accessing the Artifact.”
“How could it be?” Gordon still felt this news was dubious, even though the younger diplomat was touting first hand knowledge. There were still aspects of it that made it difficult to believe. “Federation states exchange scientific breakthroughs openly. The processes are tested and logged freely between tens of thousands of experts across many fields of study! Surely a leap such as that would have raised more than a few eyebrows in the scientific community…”
“I haven’t seriously read scientific journals since the Academy, but from what I understand they obscure the source of all this Borg data and materials. Everyone who isn’t in on it just figures Starfleet got it a little bit here and there over the years and these genius scientists, doctors, and engineers took that tiny amount and made giant leaps. Starship engine design! Advanced Holographic view screens and controls!” Rice snorted. “Everyone likes a hero, so no one questions it.”
Gordon hummed a note, rubbing a thumb under his lip and putting the pieces together as Rubens was laying them out. “You said Inimik is in the business of starship design and logistics…”
“Exactly. The Free State is…struggling in that area. Most of their fleet is pre-supernova. When they didn’t evacuate Romulus in time, they lost a lot of their engineering and scientific community,” Rice emphasized this by holding his arms apart about a foot. “They really need our materials. Which they already have, but in true Romulan style they don’t believe for a second. Inimik and everyone else running the Free State believe that there must be stash of super secret stuff we’re not talking about.”
“And I suppose you know where the secrets are stored on the early research concerning this Artifact?”
“There are none that I’m aware of. You might need to get creative. Until a few days ago, I would’ve told you to talk to Lance Quinn to see what he could drum up, but he’s gone back to the Earth. Instead, you might want to get some of the engineers on the station to sift through some old papers and, I don’t know, pull together old data and give it a new title and new charts. Make old stuff look new enough that Inimik can use it. I have a feeling she wouldn’t care if it was real. The appearance might be enough.”
Gordon didn’t answer right away. He didn’t suppose you got away with printing some newly fabricated scientific secrets out and dipping them in coffee grounds to make them appear to be older than yesterday. If he did speak with Inimik he intended to deal honestly, and to do so without divulging something dangerous. Rubens struck him as both brilliant and reckless and he decided to keep that observation to himself. He needed time to think and prepare.
“How soon do you think we can arrange to meet Ms. Inimik?” Gordon asked.
“I can’t.”
“Trouble with your channels?”
“No, I have plenty of contacts. Admiral Harshman has ordered me to have nothing to do with the Pyrryx or the Korinn. Since what we’re actually talking about is Romulans, I’m not actually disobeying a direct order. I’m just passing along advice about our friendly neighbors. Hairsplitting, but that’s what my life has come to.”
Finishing the last of the apples, Rice put down the knife and swept the apples into a bowl. He reached out for another bowl. He peeled off the cover from the now-rested dough he’d made before they arrived. Scooping it out, he floured the counter and began to roll the mound out into a thin, opaque sheet. “I know my suggestions may seem…” he struggled to find a word.
“Like walking backwards on one’s hands to confound your own feet,” the Grazerite poet filled in for him.
“Thank you, I couldn’t have said it better. Through no fault of their own the Korinn are swimming rough seas. To kill the metaphor, I’m worried that all we’re offering is a dingy in the middle of a hurricane. I would sell - no, I would give the Romulans a fleet of the newest starships if it meant we could save the Korinn. Playing their frankly silly game is a small price to ask, but I will pay it gladly.”
“If the Pyrryx only respect strength, then maintaining a defensive cooperative on our shared border near Korix is the most likely deterrent, and in the best of both Federation and Romulan interests to stave off further territory encroachments. I’ll find the right information to grease the skids and get the appropriate magistrates to understand what is at stake,” Gordon assured.
Rice nodded as if he was assured, but in reality was irked by Gordon’s idealism. Make no mistake, he wished that he’d been part of the man’s generation. They achieved big things while glued to their firm commitment to justice, honor, and honesty. What a great time to be a diplomat.
Things were just messier now.
“That sounds great. Thank you. I just wanted to make my opinions known,” he smiled and turned on the heat.
Ernesh understood that there was some kind of difference of opinion between his friend and the diplomatic officer, but they were both being a little coy about it, and he was concerned that Gordon would make excuses to leave. It was time to shift to more agreeable topics. “How long might this dessert of yours be yet? It smells like dewli fruit. We are staying for dessert,” he stated as he got Gordon’s attention.
“Yes, of course.” Gordon said, picking up a padd to call up his agenda and think. “Leaving before dessert is a grave insult, after all. Unless you’re on Tellar, in which case all bets are off."
