"Renegade Deception" - #11 - "Diplomacy and the blue guy"

ON : [Kennock's suite, 2200 hours]

It has been a long hard day, but the talks bore their fruits. Starfleet and the Romulan Star Empire agreed to an officer exchange to further relations between the two powers. It is true that since the end of the Dominion War bothsides had made efforts to smooth things out, and it showed on this day. There could be a bright future for all.

As Kennock made his way into his suite after a good meal of Romulan delicacies on board the IRV Devoras compliments of Admiral Dhivael, he put his case on the little table where the bottles used to be, and sat in the leather sofa. That lether sofa. Music and a bordeaux. That would be nice. He boubted that the romulan replicators had french wines however.

With the end of the conference, all he had left to do was write a detailed report. The kind that'll make it's way on a shelf somewhere in the archives of the UFP Diplomatics Council and be forgotten to amass dust for the centuries to come. Somehow he found that having written such a document had some value. Not that the event was of particular importence, but leaving a trace somewhere seemed something new to him. He was after all involved mainly in covert operations. His life's work was to NOT be heard of. It'll be one of the rare times he got to sign his work.

He headed for his office and started writing the report. Of course after along day like this one, he was slowly getting tired. His concentration periods were getting shorter, and he clearly noticed it himself. He got up from his desk and walked to the replicator. "Coffee, black, french roast. as strong as it gets" he asked. Back behind his desk with his cup, the odour of fresh coffee revigorated his dulled senses as he got back to work. The black liquid fuelled his work for the final minutes. An extatic smile formed on his face. It is way past 2400 hours, and he needed his well deserved sleep.

When the lights went off, he was so tired his head felt as heavy as a small planetoid.

[Kennock's suite 0800 hours]

The computer made a low blip, before announcing "You have an appointment at 1000 hours". That's right, Kennock thought... He did program the computer to wake him up two ahours before his meeting with the exchange officer that would be accompanying him to the USS Pegasus. He got up and jumped in the shower. Repassing his notes in his mind, he tried to remember. Sublieutenant Letek. Young, ambitious, and fascinated with other cultures, he was the perfect subject for the experience. An operations officer of some talent. So his file says.

Coming out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and marched towards what he refered to as "the Shrine". He droned the prayer "Coffee, french roast, extra black". Then the deity of his worship, in a wooshing sound, materialised for him. As he reached for the Sacred one, he entered communion with the almighty Coffee and his Holy son, Caffeine. It made him feel good. He was purified.

Putting the cup down on the low table, he made his way to his room and got dressed. Civilian dress that is. If he was to meet someone socially, his blue skin was enough to get himself noticed, he certainly didn't need the extra attention a starfleet uniform would garner him. Looking trough the local garments he acquired during his free time, he chose something from the local fashion in sober colors. He would definitely not blend in perfectly, but at least he won't stand out like a klingon at a fancy dress party.

He then carefully packed his belongings. Most fit into his sailor's bag, something he found in an interesting sailing gear boutique in Amsterdam, Earth. The other object he carried was a long black tube. Making it sure it was packed correctly, he opened the tube, to reveal a saber of some sort, encased in a solid metal sheath. Producing the blade, he took a long glance at the blade, which was slightly curved and had an interesting motif on the blade. It looked extremely sharp. It probably hadn't an incredible value here... but since nobody is allowed in the neutral zone, to an oustider, it made the item almost priceless. The build was impressive. The quality of the craftsmanship was irreprochable. No andorian blade, but still great quality work. Packing the sword back into the tube, he piced up the bag and took one last look around the suite. All was perfect. He went back to his cup of coffee, payed his respects and put the receptacle back on the altar.

[Morporkean delicacies, 0930 hours]

Morporkean delicacies was the closest restaurent to the platform from where he would beam to the Pegasus, from the Tarsonian facility. The two men were sitting face to face, having breakfast. It would only be an hour until the ship comes by to pick both of them up. The two men talked a lot. Much to Kennock's surprise, the federation standard spoken by the romulan officer was almost impeccable. There was of course an unmistakable accent, something the UT usually irons out so that communications remain understandable. There was no UT here. Yet the man was quite comprehensible, and fluent. His tone was rather agreable, if a bit inquisitive. He was curious. He was the one who talked the most, asking questions, asking a bit about shipboard life, procedures and policies. He also enquired a bit about Andoria, which Kennock was of course very happy to discuss. The time passed quickly as the two men talked about everything and nothing. They were getting along fine. Hopefully Ops chief Evans will like the newcomer as much.


Lieutenant Kennock Chief Diplomatic Officer USS Pegasus

Note: Evans, prepare to have one very to almost unbearably talkative Romulan exchange officer in your epartment.