Cowboy Diplomacy

Posted on Sat May 25th, 2019 @ 6:37am by Captain Gary Taylor

Mission: Episode 1: Hell is a four letter word
Location: Undisclosed on Vulcan
Timeline: after Diplomatic Entanglements
1243 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Zhukov and Tate walked up to the abandoned geological research station that acted as the safehouse for her Romulan contact, a once powerful member of the Romulan government now in exile in a post-Shinzon empire. They looked around for a second, seeing six heavily armed guards, "Well, seems we're expected, Kerri." Zhukov laughed, "Poor paranoid girl..."

"I don't like this, Madam Ambassador." Tate said, something she'd already put into the conversation, "This whole thing could be a trap."

"She's not in a position to do that." Zhukov shook her head, she knew exactly how badly her contact's position was weakened, information she had shared with nobody, "I don't think she would anyway. Even if she kidnapped, or even killed me, it's only a short term gain. She always plays the long game. Besides, this isn't her style, not enough subtlety or panache."

"I guess not." Tate shrugged in agreement; the Romulan was an artist of cloak and dagger, almost to the same level of the Wolf Queen herself, ~But desperate people do desperate things.~

As they got closer, the guards moved towards Zhukov and Tate, readying their weapons, though they didn't draw or point them, "This area is off limits." The largest of them said, "Leave now."

Tate's grip tightened on her TR-110k, if that fool took another step she was going to aerate his brain. She knew she could take two of them and still have time to activate the Ambassador's micro-transporter, sending her back to the Embassy, even if it meant the Romulans killed her in the rush.

Zhukov, seeing Tate tightening her hand around the grip of her weapon, placed a hand on top of Kerri's, telling her with just the touch that everything was okay. She turned to face the guard, "I'll tell you what, son, you go in there and tell the lovely Professor Meldet that a couple of hot geology groupies are here to see our favorite rock star and won't take no for an answer." She said, adding forcefully, "You go inside and tell her exactly that, word for word."

The large guard motioned two more forward, "Keep your eyes on them." He stated, moving into the station's interior.

"So," Zhukov joked, "You guys from around here?"

The guards said nothing, instead sizing up the impudent woman and her.... Aide? Bodyguard? Lover? They had no idea. A minute later the large guard from before stepped out, saying coldly, "Send them in."

"Thanks." Zhukov quipped, "World class service, we'll recommend you to our friends."

Once inside, Zhukov and Tate took a seat at the table in what passed for the station's den, "Well, this is a great interior design." Zhukov sighed.

"Right." Tate agreed, "Very post-apocalyptic."

"I'm sure you two aren't here to criticize my decor." A blonde woman, her much longer than she was used to hair tied back in a messy ponytail, said, "Want to get to the point?"

"Why, Sela, don't you look lovely?" Zhukov complimented.

"Right." Tate interjected, "Just sorry I missed your funeral last year."

Cdr. Sela, once the terror of the Federation, the very definition of the shadowy Romulan menace, now stepped fuly into the weak light cast by the station's always near failing overhead fixtures, "Oh, Kerri, how I've missed you." She said, her voice a sugary snarl, "How's my second favorite Tate? You know, with the rest of your family tied for first."

"Least I know who my family is, Sela dear." Tate fired back.

"Yes, especially that darling brother of yours." Sela smirked, "Anyway, can we get to the point of why you're here, Admiral Zhukov?"

"Maybe I just enjoy the company of pretty blondes." Zhukov shrugged, she'd get to it when she was damn good and ready; which she had been when they arrived, but she was now delaying for the sole purpose, somewhat petty, of reminding Sela that she didn't call the tune here.

"Then what is she doing here?" Sela and Tate asked in unison.

"Ahh, my twins are at it again." Zhukov laughed, then turned deadly serious, "And you know why I'm here, darling. Why pretend otherwise?"

"Perhaps tea first, Auntie?" Sela offered, lifting a badly aged pot and motioning to three cups that had also seen better days.

Zhukov merely raised an eyebrow at Sela's reference to her as 'Auntie', knowing it both amused Sela and slightly nodded to their unspoken mutual affection, "You first, child, you look dehydrated." Zhukov replied, knowing that poisoning her was always an option with Sela.

"Oh, thank you ever so much." Sela answered, sipping her tea as she poured the other two women their own mugs, "Delicious."

"Perhaps some gingerbread, darling?" Zhukov offered, producing a wrapped parcel from inside her coat, unfolding it to reveal the sweet treat.

"Oh, before a revered elder?" Sela gasped in mock dismay, "No, no, Auntie, please, you first."

"Thank you so much, child." Zhukov returned Sela's mockery, taking a small piece of the gingerbread and eating it, "Simply heavenly."

"Now, as to why you're here." Sela began, "I understand you've lost some people..."

"YOUR people TOOK OUR people." Tate snarled, "Enough of these damned games already."

"Kerri dear, enjoy your tea, it's chamomile." Sela offered, "Very calming."

"Ladies, please." Zhukov interrupted them, "Now, as for our people..."

"We..." Sela began before remembering that she was on the outs with the powers that be in her former homeland, "They don't have them. This was not a Romulan government operation." The fact was that, even though there was a deep desire in the remnants of the Empire's once powerful intelligence agencies to destroy Zhukov and her people, they didn't have the power to call down that sort of thunder anymore, beyond that the new leaders of the Senate would never allow it; the Empire and the Federation were in a sort of arranged marriage, a forced coupling that would last just as long as the Empire struggled to recover from all the ill fates that had befallen it.

Zhukov studied Sela's face for any hint of deception, it simply wasn't there, ~Seems we've now got a bigger problem.~ She surmised, turning to Tate, "Well, I guess we've got a lot of work to do yet, Colonel."

"Agreed, Madam Ambassaor." Tate nodded, more than a little disappointed that she'd had to suffer that obnoxious bitch for nothing.

"Well, Sela, thanks for the... information, darling." The Ambassador smiled a mixture of warmth and venom, "Oh, and for the record, your mother was much prettier. Daddy was an ugly man, hey?"

"Oh, Auntie, I'm going to miss you terribly when the time comes that I have to kill you." Sela mused, embracing Zhukov.

"Oh, if I had a nickle." Zhukov laughed, squeezing the younger woman close.

"You'd have a sack full of nickles." Tate smirked, staring directly at Sela, "Which I would use to beat you to death, Sela."

"You I'll miss substantially less." Sela stared daggers back at the Marine. She was sincere when she said she'd miss Zhukov, but she anxiously awaited the day she'd spill Tate's blood, "Send my love to Aubrey would you?"

"Indeed." Zhukov smiled, "We must do this again soon. Doesvadanya, darling."

Sela watched as Tate and Zhukov left, taking a piece of the abandoned gingerbread and nibbling at it, wondering still exactly what Auntie's next move was and how she could manipulate it to her own benefit.

-Off