Pounding Pavement

Posted on Mon Jun 3rd, 2019 @ 9:32am by

Mission: Episode 1: Hell is a four letter word
Location: Vulcan-Subspace
Timeline: After Cowboy Diplomacy
1180 words - 2.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Zhukov had been pacing her office like a caged tiger ever since she and Kerri had gotten back to the Embassy, "Okay, so we know it's not the main Romulan government behind this." She said, reviewing the intel at hand.

"That's if the bitch wasn't gaslighting us." Kerri offered, she didn't trust Sela at all, didn't understand why the Queen hadn't just shot her on general principle, ~She knows what she's doing, even if it's a mystery to the rest of us.~

Zhukov knew Tate didn't like or trust Sela, she also didn't blame her. The fact was, in spite of the trust she was treated with, the Ambassador didn't trust her 'niece' once she was out of sight, but this time she was being totally honest. Yes, Sela was a damn good liar, but nowhere near trained and seasoned enough to fool her, "No, she's not gaslighting us, Kerri." She shook her head, "She needs us. Besides, if this was the Romulan government, it would put us back on a war footing with them, that's not good for Sela."

"Right." Tate agreed; war would be bad for Sela, who hoped for the Queen to put her back in power in the Empire. A war would rally the Romulans around their Praetor as it always had before, there was no win for Sela in a sudden upswell of patriotism, she needed a divided and tense atmosphere to suddenly reappear as the candidate who would trigger that upswell of patriotism, backed by the Queen's special assistance.

"So we rule out the Imperial government then." Zhukov stated, "So are we looking at some offshoot, some warlord or wannabe praetor?"

"Possibly." Kerri shrugged, she knew that the Romulan Empire, once nearly unquestionably loyal to their emperor, was now a patchwork of factions, held together by nearly threadbare allegiances that could change at the slightest offense or the slightest opportunity, "Possibly gangsters of some variety, too." The Marine paused a second, a horrifying though overwhelming her, "What if it's him? What if he's made us and went to send you a couple of messages?"

That stopped Zhukov dead in her tracks, what if it was the Ghost? Maybe someone in her organization had been bought, too, the way that someone at Utopia Planetia had, what would they do then? She ran her hands through her hair in frustration, "If it's him then they're all dead and this entire operation is compromised." She summarized the only possible answer to that particularly odious question, "But if it was him, he'd have already sent his message. Not like him to drag his ass on making his feelings known."

"Very true." Tate concurred, the Ghost would've already sent their bodies somewhere that the Queen would find them, letting her know to back off or it was going to get worse, "So we can almost rule him out. What about that damned Ferengi we left Hanniger with?"

"Traun?" Zhukov asked, thinking it over for a second and shaking her head, "No, he wouldn't dare. He's most likely taken his nephew and gone to ground for a while, too much heat on them. But those weapons might have come from him. Get Lone Wolf on subspace."

"Yes, Madam Ambassador." Tate nodded, going off to do just that.

Ten minutes later and Hanniger was in a safe place to reply to the Queen, even if he wasn't entirely sure why she had felt compelled to call him out of the blue like this, ~That's not how this works. She waits for me unless something's... badly wrong. Damn it....~ As soon as their sounds were covered by the masking device, the Wolf Queen appeared, "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Nicholas, I need to talk to you." She began, "Grey And Shadow have been taken by someone using Romulan weaponry, along with Grey's woman, a former operative named Lia Holmes, and the Princess Phoenix of Erisia. We've ruled out the Romulan government, so we're down to warlords and criminals. Has your big lobed jackass been moving any Romulan gear?"

"No way." Hanniger shook his head, "There's too much heat on anything Romulan. The empire has too many people out hunting down the dealers slinging it, Traun won't go near it. Hell, that lunatic half-breed, Rianni t'Khellian, she wiped out an entire Yridian trade convoy over a crate of disruptor rifles..."

Tate lowered her head and fought back a tear at hearing what had become of her former friend from the Dominion War. After Starfleet threw her aside like trash she'd found her way to her own people and somewhere along the way lost the humanity that had made her such a great person, ~What did they do to you, Ri?~

The Ambassador also had feelings about this situation, though hers were more anger towards Debora Carlov for not shooting the traitor Rianni Monteros, she'd never call that rogue officer by her Romulan name lest she give her treason some form of legitimacy, when she had the chance. This latest result of Carlov's hesitance, the massacre of which Lone Wolf spoke, was fourteen Yridian freighters, nearly twenty thousand lives, all a part of her 'anti-piracy efforts' which had thus far claimed hundreds of thousands, making her the pride of the Empire, "If Debby hadn't got soft on me we could've prevented all of that." She grumbled, wanting to slap that weak willed woman across the face one more time, "Okay, so that rules out the independent scene."

"Leads us back to our assortment of warlords and wannabes." Tate interjected, "Least we have an avenue to explore now."

"Right." Zhukov agreed, though she planned to explore the possibility that the traitor Monteros might be the wannabe warlord responsible, even if this wasn't her style. Yes, Rianni Monteros was a traitor and she longed to spill her blood, but she'd never made a move against the Federation, "Okay, thank you, Lone Wolf. Stay safe, that's an order."

"Aye aye, Sir." Hanniger joked, "I'll see you soon." He vanished from the screen, returning to the dangerous work at hand.

As Lone Wolf vanished, Zhukov turned to Tate, "Okay, so now we've got to sniff out the rogue element, Kerri." She sighed. All her career, no, all her life, she'd dreamt of the day when the Romulan empire would crumble, not realizing that when it did it would go from one very large, very dangerous missile pointed at the Federation to thousands upon thousands of tiny bullets pointed at the Federation, now unguided and untethered, not to mention usually under the control of someone unhinged.

"I hate to say it," Tate began, she really did hate to say this, "But that sounds like a job for your bitchy 'niece', Madam Ambassador."

"I agree." Zhukov nodded, "Call her and tell her to start sniffing, I need every bloodhound I've got on this trail."

"Understood, Madam Ambassador." Tate nodded, moving out to carry out the Queen's command and, hopefully, get their friends back, ~Something happens to those guys, whoever did it has got Hell to pay...~

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