Part I "The Thrai of Tomika"
15 years ago, Tomika System
[IRW Saeihr’llaiir]
Shiarraels nail’s dug into the soft leather pads that rested on the top of her armrests. On the view screen several smaller Romulan warbirds were chasing down a larger Galaxy class ship “target their warp drive!” She shouted, her violet irises intently studying the view screen. Like a pack of wolves the smaller Romulan ships soon overtook the larger galaxy class. She watched silently as several explosions rippled through the ship’s hull until only the molten framework was visible. “Pull back and rejoin the rest of the wing.” She let the tension leave her muscles and eased her clawing grip on the armrests.
Her new RS (XO), tr’Shiarkek, smiled smugly at the molten smattering displayed on the view screen “they were easily defeated. It was wise for the Khre’Riov to heed your advice. I am honored to serve under such a wise Riov.” In the corner of her vision Shiarrael could see him dip his head in a half bow but she ignored it and pretended to keep her focus on the view screen.
“Too easy.” Shiarrael stated bluntly “they were no match for us. The bulk of the Federation fleet consists of large ships created mainly for long scientific deployment. Their ships may have teeth but they are the teeth of a baby thrai- brittle and only dangerous to those who do not know how to handle them.” There was no glory in this fight. I might as well have suffocated an infant. “And smaller ships can easily pick at them until they’re dead.”
“Even so, because of your strategy we were able to easily route the Federation forces. The Khre’Riov will be pleased at this result.” Shiarkek bowed again. If he wasn’t so damn useful at organization she would have had him tossed out an airlock. Why don’t you just staple your lips to my ass? She shook her head.
“We are receiving a message from the Khre’Riov.” The communications officer announced and Shiarrael ordered it onscreen immediately.
Khre’Riov tr’Faikaru was tall and boney. His chin was square, his nose ridge thin, and slicing across his forehead was the classic V shaped ridge of the mongrel breeds. He was known as a tough disciplinarian and that was the only trait that Shiarrael respected. Otherwise he was overly arrogant and a self divined idiot. That he had actually listened to her plan was a shock, though now he probably would claim credit for it entirely. She didn’t mind though. Let fools drink a fool’s drink. His eyes set on her and she stood up and bowed her head at him “Khre’Riov.”
“Riov.” Faikaru spoke and she could almost feel the spittle fly through the screen “it seems our plan has worked perfectly.” Our? That’s a surprise. At least he saw fit to give me some credit. “The Federation forces are in full retreat and the Gai’Shian have captured Starbase 220, well, most of it anyways.” His last words seemed to linger in the air as he paused for a moment. “After speaking to Ael’Riov t’Loen I have decided to hold our pursuit for the moment so we can reorganize our lines.”
What? She wanted to shout at the image of the Khre’Riov but she knew it would be useless and that she would likely end up in jail somewhere for insubordination. The Federation was much more disorganized then they were. The best tactic would be to keep up the pursuit and crush the remnants of the Federation fleet assigned to this sector. Letting them get away would only give the Federation an estimate on the Romulan vessel count and likely render her original strategy obsolete. Instead of telling him that however she knew her place and just nodded her head. He was doing her a favor anyways by informing her of this impending blunder “thank you Khre’Riov.” It took a great deal of effort for her to smile. I will bear witness when they slit your throat for our future failure.
“Jolan’tru.” The image abruptly cut out and was replaced by the Romulan eagle. Next to her Shiarkek muttered something under his breath.
“Do you have something to say?” Shiarrael asked him.
“No, it was just a thought. I should not have spoken out loud. Forgiv-” He started to bow his head but Shiarrael reached up and grabbed a fist full of his hair and jerked his head up.
“I am tiring of your fawning. Speak your mind or I’ll have your tongue cut out since you obviously have no use for it.” Shiarrael glared at Shiarkek who pulled himself out of her grasp and readjusted the collar of his uniform. The stupid expression on his face soured into a more rigid look. At least you don’t look like a fool now.
“Very well Riov. I do not understand why we will not continue our pursuit. The Federation lines are in shambles. Their strategic infrastructure in this region was devastated the instant we took Starbase 220. If we wait here they will undoubtedly reorganize, at least enough to stop our advance.”
Perhaps you are not as useless as I originally thought. “It is not your place to wonder it is only your place to follow the Khre’Riov’s orders.” Shiarrael pretended to dismiss his comments absently and returned her attention to the view screen. Sliding back into her command throne she quietly watched the scene. They were coming up on Starbase 220 and over a hundred warbirds were now moving into range of the massive facility. Broken bits of starships tumbled past the view. Shiarrael held a sigh. Surprise, mobility, audacity, and timing win wars. She thought of the ancient Rihannsu General tr’Naga whose writings on war and combat she cherished. We have lost all four.
Part II "Keretat the Fool"
13 years ago…
[Ch’Rihan, I’Ramnau]
Shiarrael sat quietly in the waiting room outside of Khre’Riov tr’Keretat’s office. The large windows offered a perfect view of the massive space port that sat adjacent to the fleet command buildings. From her seat she could see dozens of small vessels leaving and landing in the heart of the Romulan capital. Aside from the view however there was very little to look at inside the waiting area. Most of the lounge was carefully furnished using jyrali wood from the Khre’Riov’s home region and while sturdy it lacked the elegance of the lacquer carvings one could obtain elsewhere. “How dull” she commented dryly. Next to her a young officer glanced at her for a short moment with a look of agreement in their eyes. That caused Shiarrael to smile.
Finally the large doors parted and another Galae officer stepped out holding a small computer unit “Riov Rehu, the Khre’Riov will speak with you now.” The woman never even bothered to look up. How rude, Shiarrael thought. Certainly the Khre’Riov trained his people to have enough manners to actually look at the person they are addressing.
“Look at me when you speak to me erie’Arrain.” Shiarrael commented testily as she stood up. Walking up to the erie’Arrain she ripped the computer unit from the rude officer’s hand and dropped it to the floor. With an irritated scowl she crushed the small device under her boot and then proceeded to grind the bits into the polished flooring “now, since you are no longer distracted, lead me to the Khre’Riov’s office.”
“Of- Of course.” The erie’Arrain quickly bowed her head and gestured for Shiarrael to follow.
There were several hallways between the waiting room and the Khre’Riov’s office. It was the normal design of a fleet official’s office since it offered added protection in the event of an assault- of course such brazen attacks were a rarity. Most Romulans preferred the subtleness of poisons or flitter bombs. In any case it was a long walk and Shiarrael wondered if it was even necessary. Until a few days ago she had never even heard of Khre’Riov Nadul tr’Keratet.
“We are here.” The officer announced and pressed a button on a small exterior intercom “Khre’Riov, Shiarrael t’Rehu is here to see you.”
“Yes, I know, send her in.”
“Understood Khre’Riov.” The erie’Arrain slid open a small side panel and inserted a short code. Abruptly the office door slid open and Shiarrael took her cue to walk inside. To her surprise the office was much more decorated then the waiting room. Several silver book cases lined both sides of the large office and a large ivory couch sat the middle facing the Khre’Riov’s desk. Instead of drapes the office windows were covered by banners bearing the emblem of the Galae’Rhi (5th Fleet). Behind the desk was a slightly stout Romulan. His face wore a serious look and his amber eyes hinted at danger. His brows were gray and his hair peppered with iron and snow. When Shiarrael entered he stood up and she visually measured him to be about six feet tall.
“Welcome Riov. Please sit.” Tr’Keretat spoke with a deep voice. He gestured at the couch and reached into his desk pulling out a bottle of bright blue liquid and two glasses “I have been saving this ale for several years now. My son acquired it from Speaker tr’AAnikh’s estate. They say it is some of the finest ale made on ch’Havran. Please share a glass with me.” He twisted the cap off the bottle and poured generous portions into both glasses. When he finished he held one out for Shiarrael.
“Hann’yyo.” Shiarrael thanked him for the hospitality and graciously accepted the glass as she sat down. Of course it was all just a show. Sincerity was always an abstract thing for her people and Shiarrael had that act down pat “I was surprised when I received your invitation to this meeting. Certainly someone of your position has better things to do then meet with a mere patrol vessel Riov?” She waited until he sipped his own glass of ale before she did likewise. Outside observers might think she believed the drink to be poisoned, but of course that wasn’t the case. It would be considered extremely rude to poison a guest during an official meeting. No, Shiarrael merely showed him respect by allowing him to be the first to drink. Whether he deserved it or not she was still uncertain.
“Events in the galaxy are spinning faster then perhaps even the elements can fathom.” Tr’Keretat took in heavy sips of ale between sentences “it seems our recent conflict with the Klingons was caused by the Federation. There is a great uproar in both the Senate and those dogs’ High Council.” He smirked and held up his glass of ale apparently admiring it in the sunlight that filtered through the cracks between banners “from what I have heard my peers speak highly of you. They call you the conqueror of Tomika but I find your crews’ name for you more interesting- they call you, Riov Yhisu? Or am I mistaken?”
Shiarrael hid her smirk. Riov Yhisu literally meant ‘Captain Dread’ and while her crew named her that as an insult she actually found the title endearing and quietly built upon that reputation by using extreme disciplinary measures such as crushing the erie’Arrain’s computer unit earlier “so I have heard. The victory at Tomika was not my doing; it was the accomplishment of all our soldiers. I only take credit for witnessing it.”
“You are humble but you should accept credit when it is bestowed upon you.” Tr’Keretat finished his glass of ale and quickly refilled it. Shiarrael was quickly losing respect for the man simply by observing his drinking habits. To drink so heavily during an important meeting was incredulous but she kept her soft expression and calm demeanor as he continued to speak “I have been tasked with forming a preliminary invasion force and I need someone to lead the wing that will guard our left flank. There is no other suited for the position so I am promoting you to Ael’Riov and giving you command of the left wing.”
It took a bit of effort to hide her scowl. Shiarrael wasn’t interested in a promotion and now she needed to find an excuse to reject it without insulting the Khre’Riov too much “who will be commanding the right wing?” She asked him.
“Vaek’Riov t’Loen.”
The same fool who cost us a victory over the federation three years ago? Shiarrael didn’t expect him to name t’Loen but she knew she shouldn’t be surprised considering tr’Keretat was beginning to look more and more like a simple old drunk. “I see. I must kindly refuse this promotion.” Shiarrael stood up and took another small sip of her ale “while I am deeply honored by your consideration I cannot accept this promotion nor can I command your left wing when it is almost certain your right wing will not hold.”
“They said you would not.” Tr’Keretat slurred his mumble at her “t’Loen is an honorable commander! I will not allow you to insult her in my presence Riov!”
So, this is your true face old man? “There is no insult where there is truth. It is well known she advised tr’Faikaru to stop his advancement into Federation territory. After their forces regrouped our advancing fleet was routed and sent back to Tomika in tatters. She is the reason Faikaru was forced by tr’Paya to slit his gut and commit honorable death- he would have been wise to request it of her so that poison could have been bled out of this fleet.” Shiarrael’s soft expression turned into a smirk “perhaps if you finish that bottle you might honestly believe she is actually worth a fvai’s manure in her post.”
“Get out!” Tr’Keretat shouted and balled his fists slamming them onto his desk “I will make sure you never see beyond the cage of that patrol ship Shiarrael Rehu! Mark these words! You will never be more then a patrol vessel commander! Never!”
Shiarrael shrugged and left his office smiling. You do me pleasure fool. There is nothing more I would rather be then commander of my patrol ship. At least I will not be at the whim of drunken fools such as you!
Part III "War's Folly"
13 years ago, Yadalla System
[IRW Saeihr’llaiir]
“Main systems are offline!” tr’Janolin slammed his fists into the main engineering console “damage on multiple decks- there is nothing I can do Riov. Forgive me!”
Shiarrael started to say something but her communications interrupted her thought “intercepted emergency transmission, the Khre’Riov is dead.”
Fools! I told them but they refused to listen. Shiarrael grinded her teeth as she stared beyond the smoke at the cracked but still functioning view screen. A Federation Akira class cruiser was moving towards them. The Saeihr’llaiir was crippled. All weapons systems were destroyed and the engines were no longer functioning. This was a hopeless situation and she knew her duty well. “Abandon the ship.”
A chorus of gasps greeted the order. Tr’Janolin stood up “Riov we will not abandon this ship or you! What if we are captured? We cannot allow these hevam-a to take any of us!”
“They will not.” Shiarrael stood up “you will leave now while we have enough ships to cover your escape. I will remain here and keep their attention focused on the Saeihr’llaiir. If you refuse my order then slit your throat now and be dead! Otherwise leave!” She glared at Janolin and he finally acquiesced.
“Riov, it has been the greatest honor to fight for the glory of the empire along side you.” Janolin kneeled down in front of her and the rest of the remaining bridge crew followed suit “may we join you in Vorta’Vor one day.” When he finished he stood up and left followed by the rest.
Once she received notice that all escape vehicles had jettisoned Shiarrael returned to her seat. Several bodies littered the bridge. tr’Udon, her pilot, had served with her honorably for the past twenty years and she could vividly recall the nervous wreck he was the first day he arrived. t’Odaki the young science officer who had only arrived three days before the battle, Shiarrael could still see the fear in the girl’s eyes. Such a waste, she sadly wondered if their deaths had meaning. Will my death have meaning?
“Computer, activate self destruct sequence.” Shiarrael ordered and entered her authentication code manually into the armrest console “five second silent countdown.” Her eyes moved from the small console to the damaged view screen. The Akira class ship was now within tractor range of the Saeihr’llaiir. “Farewell my enemy.”
Shiarrael waited silently but five seconds came and went. She waited a few more seconds hoping she had miscounted but still nothing happened. Standing up she rushed over to the remnants of the engineering counsel and brought up the schematics and the self destruct control mechanism. The screen showed red errors everywhere. The mechanism was jammed. “Elements do not fail me now!”
Knowing there was nothing she could do Shiarrael instead made her way to the auxiliary flight control station. The engines were gone but the thrusters were still online. If she could just push the Saeihr’llaiir into the Akira it might do the trick. After rerouting the controls she activated the thrusters and turned her attention to the viewscreen. The Saeihr’llaiir lurched towards the monster but instead a blue beam caught her and pushed her back. Shiarrael cursed her failure loudly, cursed the elements, and cursed the Riovs whose stupidity and arrogance had put her in this situation.
There was no time for her to lament however. She could hear the chiming sound of Starfleet transporters. Without hesitation she pulled her Vrelnec from its sheath and pressed the tip against her heart. She lifted her free hand to slam the blade into its rightful place. She could hear shouting behind her.
“Stop her now!”
A large hand grabbed her raised fist and she threw the assailant hard into the wall. She had no time to do anything else. Blackness consumed her as a burning sensation dug into her back.
I have failed.
Part IV "Wounded Thrai"
13 years ago
[USS Yorktown]
“I am Captain Alexander Taylor and you are a prisoner of war.” Shiarrael barely heard the voice she was still groggy from the heavy stun. Her vision was a collage of blurs and blotches of light. She could feel hands sliding beneath her arms and pulling her to her feet “what is your name and identification.” Her vision was sharpening now. The man in front of her was a middle aged human. His chin was covered in a thin gray stubble and his eyes were bloodshot. “what is your name and identification?” He asked again.
Shiarrael understood the words perfectly but she spat in response “urru areinnye hevam-a!”
The Captain turned to the officer next to him. It was medium built Vulcan male. His eyes were as black as his hair and the Captain asked him “what did she just say?”
“It’s a dialect of the Romulan language.” The Vulcan answered “in essence it means ‘go to hell’ much similar to the human idiom.”
Taylor clenched his fist and lifted it as if to strike Shiarrael but he quickly relaxed and put his hand next to him again “do you know who she is?” He asked the Vulcan.
“We were able to get identification from the image we sent to Intelligence. They have identified her as Ael’Riov Shiarrael Nh’Verih t’Rehu. A Romulan wing commander. They also believe she was the chief architect of the Romulan war plan that allowed the Romulans to take the Tomika system three years ago.”
“Oh?” Taylor smiled at her “we got us a goody. It’s a good thing we didn’t let her kill herself.” He studied Shiarrael “she won’t talk. Do you think you can do a mind meld to get the information we need?”
“I can try.” The Vulcan said. He nodded to the security officers present and they grabbed Shiarrael and held her down. He approached her “do not fight it; it will only be worse for you.” Pushing his hand against her face he parted his fingers across her forehead “my mind to your mind-”
Shiarrael could feel the presence of another consciousness enter her thoughts. No, I cannot allow them to do this. She jerked but the grip holding her down was firm. I am accessing her thoughts. She could both hear him speak in her mind and to the Starfleet Captain verbally. She tried to pull away out of the Vulcan’s grasp but more security officers came and held her down. Her mind was on fire. She knew she needed to do something soon or he would pillage her knowledge. Suddenly it came to her.
Closing her eyes Shiarrael concentrate on her emotions. She selected anger and amplified that by remembering an argument with her father. It was crystal clear in her head. Her father was stalking the halls of the war college coming to reclaim her and force her into the Rei’Krannsu. I will not do it! Shiarrael was shouting to him in her memory. In the periphery of her mind she could hear the Vulcan repeating aloud the words from the memory, the power of her own emotions during that moment overtaking him. Suddenly the foreign consciousness slipped violently out her mind. It felt like a wildfire had been set loose in her head and she groaned.
The Vulcan jumped away from her screaming. Captain Taylor grabbed him but in his moment of madness the Vulcan officer shoved the Captain into the wall. Other security officers broke their hold to tackle the Vulcan who was now shouting and writhing like a wild animal.
Taylor pulled himself up as medical personnel rushed in to sedate the Vulcan. He turned his gaze on Shiarrael “what did you do to him?!”
She smirked and replied “Vulcans are such fragile creatures.”
Part V "Confinement"
13 years ago
[Earth, New Zealand]
Its warm here was Shiarrael’s first thought as four security personnel led her out of the shuttle. Her hands were bound and a phaser rifle was pressed against her back, the owner of which would jab her repeatedly to pick up her pace like a poor fvai being prodded to move. They fear me this much? It was amusing to see these fragile creatures being so cautious. Of course they were wise to be- she could easily snap their thin necks like a twig.
A tan skinned him male stepped in front of her. She suspected he was middle aged as there were specks of gray beginning to creep through the roots of his hair. But perhaps he is younger then me? The thought amused her knowing humans aged so quickly.
The entourage stopped prodding her and saluted him. “Commander.” One of the escorts addressed the man. “We have arrived with the prisoner. She is classified as a category one danger. She inflicted severe harm on-”
“That’s enough Ensign you can remove her restraints.” The man calmly interrupted the escort “I believe you can understand me?” He smiled at Shiarrael, a move that unnerved her. It was a cold and calculated smile that silently gave her a strong message, I do not fear you. “I am honored you be in your presence Riov. Please follow me.” He said to her and dipped his head in a bow. The man’s mannerisms spoke volumes. He was well versed in Romulan etiquette.
The escorts were stunned “sir, she is a prisoner of war!”
“Are you deaf Lieutenant?” The man clapped his hands together “release her and return to your duty stations before I filed a report to your superiors.” The group took a moment to assess them validity of his threat and then dejectedly released her restraints. “Sorry sir.” The lead escort apologized and then headed off followed by the others.
Shiarrael smirked and massaged her wrists where the restraints had just been “I would thank you but I’m not certain of your motive or your identity.”
The man chuckled “my motive is to learn more about you and my identity if Commander Hiroshi Watanabe.” Hirosho, as she now knew him, returned her smirk “for someone who has been shamed by capture, you seem to be rather blithe. I hope you won’t commit suicide.”
“You’re quite knowledgeable Commander. Committing suicide in the presence of such a gracious host would be rude. However, should the opportunity arise I will not do so either. You are correct I have committed an unbearable shame- but it is one the elements willed.” Shiarrael recalled her horror at message that self destruct mechanisms were damaged and the greater horror when her attempted suicide failed and she awoke on the Federation ship. Only the elements could be so cruel to deny her a rightful death.
“Elements will?” Hiroshi chuckled again. He was so calm in her presence. “What happened to you on that ship never should have happened. To forcefully conduct a meld is against our regulations. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Apologizing for that matter? Shiarrael shook her head. Humans were weak. “This is war; one must do what one must to find victory. I do not think ill of that foolish captain.” Her smirk turned in a malicious smile “anyways, I think that Vulcan has paid severely for his mistake. For such emotionally ignorant beings they can be quite overwhelmed.”
“The Federation doesn’t win wars by any means necessary. We value life Riov.” He stopped and stared at her “we do not kill children.”
“Children become soldiers.” Shiarrael shot back.
“Do you honestly believe it is right to kill children?” Hiroshi appeared to study her “from the intelligence I have on you I considered you to be one of the few honorable Romulans left. You were adamantly against bombing planets.”
How does he know that? Shiarrael winced but steadied her expression to hide any other signs of surprise “bombing planets is unnecessary. It will easily deplete a planet’s resources and pollute the environment. When one has millions of Gai’Shian at their disposal why do something as inelegant as bomb a planet from orbit? It is much more intimidating when the enemy sees a million armored clad Gai’Shian march down their city streets.”
“Is that so?” Hiroshi smiled again. “Well you can be easy. I’m not here to ask you questions about the war but I do want to learn more about Romulan culture. You are the first member of Romulan aristocracy that I have ever met. I’d to learn about that.”
“Aristocracy?” Shiarrael scoffed “I am a mere patrol ship Riov. The title of aristocrat is reserved for foolish people who have a great deal of time to talk endlessly about ridiculous matters. Do not associate me with, or I will kill you.”
Hiroshi laughed “I’ll remember that then Riov.” He pointed to one of the enclosures “that is your room. I’ll let you get settled in and check on you later.”
Shiarrael watched him leave. The meeting was definitely interesting but she wondered if his motive was just culture of if he had something more in mind. Unlike Vulcans, humans could be as devious as her own peers.
Part VI "Strategy Session"
13 years ago
[Earth, New Zealand]
Shiarrael awoke, with considerable consternation, to the sound of a strange bird chirping. It wasn’t a melodious tune but rather a shrill screeching sound that seemed to claw at her very essence. Sitting up she instantly felt the chillness in the air. Looking around she noticed that condensation had collected on the windows of her prison cabin to the point that droplets of water were streaking down and pooling at the bottom of the frame. She could not complain however, in terms of imprisonment the Federation penal colonies were more like criminal resorts than anything else. It is truly a wonder they have survived this long. She shook her head in disbelief and slid out of the bed. The cold air was refreshing and it reminded her of her childhood home. The air was damp but nothing too uncomfortable- save for its naming this penal colony was truly a paradise among prisons. After slipping on the standard garb, a white tee and slacks she made her way out of the little cabin only to be greeted by three security personnel; Two Andorians, who looked smug in the cool temperatures and an austere Vulcan. Shiarrael gave them a nod, the Vulcan returned it and the Andorians simply ignored it. Shiarrael overlooked the insult by the two bugs and decided instead to scout the periphery of the encampment.
Like overprotective susse-thrai the security personnel hounded Shiarrael as if she were a pup not leaving even an inch of distance between themselves and her shadow. To say she found them irritating would have been overstatement, in fact, she rather enjoyed toying with them. Increasing her pace, making sudden stops, and outrageous turns to see how well they could keep up. The Vulcan remained placid through her gimmicks but the bugs were certainly irritated. The latter gave Shiarrael additional incentive to keep up her childish but quite pleasurable antics. However, as she made her way through the interior of the encampment she heard an outburst that caught her attention.
“Checkmate.” The voice was deep and monotone, almost emotionless “another game?”
“No thanks Sydney, getting beat three times in a row is enough for one day. Maybe even a week.”
“Anyone up for a game?” That same monotone voice asked. There was no response. Shiarrael slipped between two cabins to find a group of seven standing around a table with a game board on it. She immediately recognized it as a terran chess board. Though she had never played a game she had seen and read references to the strategy game. “No one? Just one game?” He asked again.
“I will play.” Shiarrael said approaching the group.
The man turned around and Shiarrael finally caught a glimpse of his face. He was tan, his eyes were a vibrant shade of sky blue, and his hair was light blonde with strands of silver streaking through. He looked rugged, probably an upper middle aged human by her estimate. He gave Shiarrael a look- on a Romulan it might have been considered disdain but she didn’t see that from this man, instead it looked more like he was gauging her. Finally he waved his hand at the man seated across from him “get up Jeff, I got a new opponent.” He finally broke a smile at Shiarrael and motioned to the now vacated seat “sit down young lady. It’s not every day that a famous person asks to play a game of chess with me. I’m Sydney Solae and you must be that beautiful Romulan that has the entire camp in an uproar.” He winked “do you know how to play this game?”
“Uproar?” Shiarrael smirked and took the seat looking at the chess board and all of its pieces “I am somewhat familiar with the mechanics of this game.” She said. “I have never played it however, but one of my colleagues has one in her office along with an annoying terran color block called a rubrics cube. Elements curse the inventor of that strange device.”
Sydney laughed “you’re not what I expected.” He slowly went over the general movements of each piece. When he finished he grinned “you got the gist of it?”
“I believe so.” Shiarrael said. Already she had started to go over every possible move on the chess board. It certainly was complicated but she was already mapping out a strategy.
“I’ll take the white pieces and you can have the black ones.” Sydney set up the board and then made the first move “so, how is it that you are here alive? I always thoughts Romulans would rather die than be captured or do high ranking officers have different standards?”
Rolling a pawn in her fingers she looked up at Sydney with a wry smile “are you attempting to distract me with a veiled insult?” She set the pawn down and then answered him “I did attempt to kill myself- twice in fact. I failed both times. Thus I am either so incompetent that I cannot kill myself properly or the elements have decided that it not yet time for me to die. You can decide on your own which is true.”
“Interesting first move.” Sydney said. Whether he was referring to her answer or her actual chess move Shiarrael was uncertain. He slid another pawn forward “so, you were one of the primary people responsible for the capture of the Tomika system?” Two of the Klingons in the crowd who were only casually paying attention to the game and tossing disgusted glances towards Shiarrael now looked at her with slight respect after what Solae said.
“Is this true?” One of that Klingons asked.
“Does it matter?” Shiarrael said sliding one of her pawns forward “a victory is a fleeting thing. How short memories can be. I was once Shiarrael t’Rehu who led her forces against the Federation at Tomika but I am now Shiarrael t’Rehu, failure, shamed beyond recognition because I was defeated and captured. Such an accolade is now non-existent and I am no longer the one who assisted victory at Tomika.”
The other Klingon grunted “now doubt it was by some Romulan treachery. Honorless petaQ.”
Sydney gave the Klingons a look that said ‘shut up’ and returned his attention to the board “don’t Romulans also have a form of honor?” He asked sliding his knight out from its nook.
“Honor, such a simple word does not do what we believe credit.” She gave the Klingons a smug look “Klingon honor is simply about death and destruction. To die in combat is the ultimate goal while winning as many battles as one can. For Romulans our belief has more substance.” Shiarrael glanced at the Klingons who were openly fuming at her indirect insult “to us honor is something more- it is the way we live. The Ruling Passion.” Sliding her rook forward she looked at Solae “you seem quite knowledgeable, not a common criminal I believe?”
“At one time I was Commander Sydney Solae but after some poor choices on my part I ended up here.” Sydney seemed to frown momentarily as he went to pick up his own rook but after a moment’s pause he set it back in its place and slid out another pawn.
“Impossible.” Shiarrael said with a grin and pushed another of her pawns forward “a Starfleet officer that is not perfect?! One that has done something terrible enough to warrant incarceration in this paradise? This cannot be true! Certainly there are no such officers in this wonderful Starfleet devoid of flaws.” Her mocking tone caused Sydney to chuckle. “So what did you do to deserve this terrible punishment?” She finally asked.
Sydney slid another knight out “About four years ago I was running border patrol around the Orion systems. I was commanding a little patrol ship, the USS Dothan, and at the time there was a lot of slave trading going on. I had a love for Orion whiskey and was given a bribe by an Orion freight Captain. I kept my ship away from his transports and got some whiskey for it. I originally thought he was just shipping contraband like Romulan ale but I learned later that he wasn’t transporting illegal liquor, but slave girls. Starfleet found out what I did. They took my commission and put me here for five years. Not that I blame them. Anyways, so, how did you beat us at Tomika?”
“Simple.” Shiarrael said sliding her queen out, the move apparently caught Sydney by surprise since his left eye seemed to widen slightly. “Starfleet ships are designed for multiple purposes: combat, science, exploration, relief, rescue, and more. There are very few Starfleet ships that are designed for single purposes or one role. Romulan vessels however are designed for primarily one purpose: combat. A large portion of the Starfleet forces at the time were large vessels: mainly Galaxy and refitted Excelsior classes. Due to their size they are not as maneuverable as smaller ships.” Shiarrael looked up into the sky “are you familiar with pack animals?”
Sliding one of his bishops out Sydney nodded “yes, we have plenty of them on earth.”
“So then you will understand this. At the time I was a mere patrol ship Riov, however, I saw the benefit in pack strategy by using our numerous patrol ships to hunt down the larger Federation ships in packs. This provided several benefits. It gave our vessels the cover of numbers since you can only fire on a certain number of targets. Increased firepower by number of ships used and most important; it gave us the advantage of maneuverability. Using this strategy we slaughtered your forces like a pack of thrai lying onto a hlai.”
One of the Klingon snorted “I don’t believe this nonsense, why would she so easily give away her strategy? It is all bluster!”
“Bluster?” Shiarrael laughed “were you born a fool or have you been hit on your head so many times that you have become one?” The Klingon started to lunge towards her but the Vulcan security officer calmly restrained him. Ignoring his reaction Shiarrael continued “Starfleet has long since analyzed our strategy. What harm does it do to tell someone something that is already well known?”
“You’re right, I read about it in a tactical analysis paper written by Professor Ed Fortier at Starfleet academy.” Sydney said and slid his bishop further up the board. “At the time we weren’t ready but now we have vessels that are designed to counter that strategy. Specifically a greater number of escort class ships like the defiant and saber.”
Shiarrael confirmed his comment with a simple nod. She had seen the changed Starfleet strategy firsthand at the Battle of Yadalla. The thought of losing her ship still brought bitterness into Shiarrael’s heart but she quickly dispelled it and studied the chess board. With one final move she slid her queen across the board. One of the men watching the game, the man Sydney called Jeff, leaned over her shoulder and gasped excitedly “checkmate!”
Stunned that he had been beaten Sydney seemed to study the board for a long minute before finally looking at Shiarrael “you never played before?” He asked shaking his head.
“No.” Shiarrael answered “checkmate means I have won?”
“Yes!” Jeff said almost hopping “wow, someone actually beat you Sydney!”
“First time in over a year.” Sydney said still looking rather stunned.
Shiarrael stood up wearing a wicked looking grin “Commander Solae, one of the greatest mistakes a commander can make during battle is to be distracted. Thank you for this game, I truly enjoyed it.” Turning around she walked off followed by the two Andorians, the Vulcan stayed behind to ensure the Klingons did not decide to act out their unhappiness.
Jeff looked at Sydney “what did she mean by that Syd?”
“What a wily bitch.” Sydney chuckled “she got me pretty good.”
Part VII "Of Humans and Romulans"
13 years ago
[New Zealand, Earth]
It is true that most a born with instincts. Many allow them to become dull through lack of use or lack of trust- however Shiarrael always found her instincts useful to the point that she regularly honed them. It was in the shrillness of the seeping amber morning-light that she ‘felt’ someone was watching her. Instead of jumping up she allowed her senses to slowly attune to the setting. She could hear breathing, she could feel breath, she could smell breath, and in finality after gauging the individual’s position she shot up from her bed and slammed her elbow towards them. It was in the instant that she realized her observer that she stopped not a mere centimeter from cracking his forehead skull “it is unwise to interrupt someone’s slumber, and quite rude. Consider yourself fortunate that I was not loss in morning stupor.”
“I’m sorry; I did not mean to startle you.” Commander Watanabe smiled. His deep olive skin almost had a golden aura in the morning sunlight. “I guess you also deserve an explanation. I just wanted to see if Romulans expressed the deep evil in their slumber that they do when they are awake.”
“The truth is likely more depraved but I will not dwell on it for you would have not gotten far before I twisted something awry.” Shiarrael walked over to the small cabinets that lined the walls of her small room and popped one open. Pulling out a packet of ‘instant’ tea she poured the powdered substance into a small plastic cup and then filled it with hot water from the faucet. After stirring the mix with a finger she sipped at it. It certainly wasn’t luxurious but it tasted better then the bitter water did so alone “so what reason do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Shiarrael threw a rather annoyed glance at the commander “or was it simply to watch me ‘sleep?’”
“I assure you it was nothing depraved.” The Commander swallowed and tugged on his collar at her suggestion “the reason I came here is because you have become quite famous. I heard about your little tryst with a game of chess the other day. A lot of the prisoners have been talking about you. They were quite impressed by the display and I must say I am rather curious. Is it true that was the first time you ever played chess? Sydney Solae was the reigning penal champ last year- no one’s beaten him in quite awhile. You taking him down in one game was quite the feat.”
Shiarrael let a short rush of breath escape her lips in a most obvious display of irritation “chess is simply a game of strategy commander. Once you understand the rules you understand the game.” She shook her head “until that day I had never played this chess game but I have played strategy many times over in my life. I simply gauged the situation- and well, with a little cleverness on my part. I won easily.” A slight smirk appeared on her face “how does winning a simple game bring me such fame?”
“Sydney is very popular among the prisoners. He has been an idea inmate.” Watanabe frowned “it’s truly a pity that he ended up here. However, I did not come here to discuss him. I came here to discuss you. If you hadn’t heard by now the war has ended. We are currently discussing matters of treaty- but a prisoner exchange is likely soon. You’ll probably be here for another week- why don’t you take the time to get to know a few of the prisoners?”
The news wasn’t shocking by any means but it did cause Shiarrael to pause for thought. Will I soon be dead? There was some irony in that- but I am ready, I have been ready since my right was stolen. Her violet eyes looked directly into Watanabe’s “I have no interest in them.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Watanabe frowned and looked at the door “however one of them does want to meet you. You seemed to have made an impression on him.”
The rugged looking Sydney Solae was standing at the doorway flanked by two security personnel. “Sorry to intrude.” He said and looked at Watanabe who simply nodded his head and walked out. Walking into the room he bowed his head and then looked around.
“I assure you this room is just as barren as my real quarters are.” The thought instantly pained Shiarrael. Her real quarters were no more. It had either been ripped apart by Starfleet searching for any secrets, of which there were none, for she was just as ill informed about matters as they were. Or it had long sense been vaporized to be part of the universe once again, she closed her eyes briefly to let the melancholy fade “in short there is nothing to see. Sit down if you must” she pointed to the bed, the only place to sit in the cramped room “would you like some tea? It is rather disgusting but I am assured it is more nutritious then the liquid manure it resembles.”
Sydney laughed, hard. His eyes grew and the tentativeness seemed to fade as he sat down on the bed “sorry, I haven’t really been around a Romulan before. The rumors suggested you were quite vicious- I wasn’t sure how to approach you so I asked Hiroshi if it was okay. I didn’t know if Starfleet had you on quarantine or anything and I’m not thirsty. I prefer the bottled water they bring up from Brisbane every other week.”
“I can be quite vicious Mister Solae. Like any animal when cornered or agitated to the point of biting.” She smirked and sat down next to him “so, perhaps you can tell me the reason for your visit? If you are wishing for a rematch I will acquiesce but the outcome will likely be in your favor this time.”
“No, no, I just wanted to talk.” He sighed and fell back on the bed “I was surprised when you beat me and so fast. I haven’t been beaten in so long that the game was becoming a little boring. Getting beat actually made it fun again you know?” Sydney chuckled “I just wanted to know more about you. I already know a lot but that was all just rumors.”
“There is usually some truth in rumor, some fantasy, and usually a mix of both.” Shiarrael looked at him, he was unusual from the humans she had met before; they tended to be tense around her, ever cautious. Not that she blamed them, there was a human saying ‘beware of Romulans bearing gifts’ of course she later learned it was modified from an older version of similar meaning, but the truth was still there. Romulans are not to be trusted. Not that she trusted her own people. “Most of what you heard is likely true in some ways.”
“Not that.” Sydney waved it off with his hand “I wanted to know about you, your family. I’ll get started; I was born in Morocco, an old nation on the North African continent. My father was a small businessman and my mother was a housewife. I decided to join Starfleet when I was ten after watching a military parade in Paris. I was married once, had two daughters. When I was arrested my wife divorced me and I haven’t seen my girls since. Your turn.”
Could this be a Starfleet ploy? She wondered. But then it didn’t make sense. Starfleet already knew about her past life, they wouldn’t need to use such ridiculous subversion tactics to get her details. With a quiet sigh she nodded her head “if you insist, I was born in Nn’Verih, a ship bloc nation along the north edge of Ch’Rihan. My family is of S’Rehu one of the oldest and noble clans in the Empire. Both my parents served in the Rei’Krannsu. My father is the son of Jamor tr’Sahen, one of the highest ranking generals in the legions and my mother’s father is Verol tr’Rehu- a former soldier in the Galae and a simple gardener now.” She could see her grandfather tr’Rehu now, his crystal eyes ever gazing through her with such a formidable aura that seemed to envelope his person. “I am aristocrat but it is a title I have long abhorred. I have always preferred the hands on approach of street gangs- I enjoy blood, carnage. I joined the Galae at age sixteen defying my father’s will that I train to be Rei’Krannsu. I served as a patrol vessel commander during the war against the Dominion- and every war since.” She could see the wonder in Solae’s eyes as she mentioned how far her service went back. Perhaps because her people were such unlike Vulcans that many forget that they age just as slow as their cousins “was this adequate?”
“I didn’t realize you were so” he seemed to think on his words for a few long seconds before continuing “that you were so decorated.” Sydney smiled and sat up “though, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is the Rei’Krannsu? The name sounds majestic so it must be something special right?”
“Special?” Shiarrael snorted “if only that. I will not elaborate but suffice to say the Rei’Krannsu is nothing but a group of fools with overdeveloped self worth. Much like my father they do nothing but claim greatness. Indeed they might be well trained but would one’s mind not rot if they did not find a moment to actually use it to think?” She shook her head “I would have rather shoveled a thousand hlai pens then joined the Rei’Krannsu.”
“I see.” Sydney laughed and stood up “well, I just wanted to know more about the person who beat me. I guess she really does live up to her reputation.” He started to walk out but stop “I am curious though. I heard you drove a Vulcan crazy that tried to meld with you? Is that just a rumor?”
She shook her head “no, but I would not exaggerate to say that I drove him crazy. I simply reduce his ability to cope by overwhelming him with powerful emotions during his forced mind-touch. Vulcans find it difficult to handle emotions when they are poured upon their psyche. He will recover and he will certainly despise me for quite some time.” She expressed a little humor at the last bit with a half-hearted chuckle.
Sydney simply shook his head and laughed “I’ll have to remember that one for later.” He said as he walked out.
Part VIII "A Traitors Welcome"
13 years ago...
[IRW Mogai]
Living up to its name the massive D’Dherex class warbird decloaked mere feet off the station’s docking ramp. Several Starfleet officers standing to meet the Romulans exhaled- they were clearly startled by the aggressive move but they remained nonchalant about the process. Approximatly one dozen Rihannsu surrounded Shiarrael- all were prisoners. Most were of minor ilk. They would randomly gaze at the captured Riov, both in wonder and curiosity. Those feeble men would most likely be reassigned in the fleet- they were nothing, but, what would become of this woman standing in front of them? A child and heir to the powerful clan S’Rehu?
The airlock hissed as the doors slid open. A thin stream of stale air rushed into the waiting area- Shiarrael shivered at the smell of home. Two Romulan soldiers exited first and behind them a third finally exited a few moments later- she recognized him clearly. Khre’Riov Drakor tr’Katrin.
The Khre'Riov let out a deep sigh. When he had been given the order to retrieve prisoners he had thought it was a joke. Surely anyone who would have been captured would have found the honor to kill themselves. Even he believed that under certain circumstances that should be permitted. Here she was. Someone with so much promise, so much talent. Wasting away in a prison. He kept his expression neutral after the sigh. It was enough.
He studied the others for a moment. Useless all of them. The Tal'Shiar would probably pick apart their brains neuron by neuron for their surrender. Trying to see if they gave away any secrets, and if they had... their families would share the traitors fate. The Ael'Riov however might be spared. Maybe if her family could swing it, offer the Tal'Shiar something they might want in return for allowing her to live, maybe even serve again... In a limited capacity. But that was not his issue. He finally spoke after a few moments. "Bring them onboard," he said and made a dismissive gesture towards the group of Romulans.
Like a pack of hlai the group of Romulans were prodded by the butts of disruptor rifles. The Starfleet officers turned their gazes towards other things quietly ignoring what was happening. Shiarrael moved quietly certain that she would soon find herself quite lifeless, not that such a prospect bothered her. Ever since her ship was captured she had prepared herself for the moment that her honor was saved.
The other Romulans were herded onto the ship and the bay doors began to close. Just as the doors were about to close one of the Gai'Shian knocked down one of the traitors who had surrendered before telling him to get going. The Khre'Riov paid no mind to it. "Put them in isolation. They will be dealt with soon enough." He motioned for three guards to follow him. He singled Shia out of the group and brought her over with his guards.
They took a separate path from the others. He maintained his silence for a few moments before they stepped into a lift with the guards. "I'm surprised. I would have never thought you would have been captured alive. And then of all the things you did you stayed alive," he said slowly before he finally asked. "Why?"
An incredulous look crossed Shiarrael’s face- if she was going to die she wasn’t going to let this man talk down to her before that date “do you think I chose to leave Khre’Riov? The self destruct mechanism on my ship was destroyed; they beamed aboard and stunned me as I slipped by honor blade towards my ribs. After that do you think they would have let such a prize kill itself?” She smirked wryly “but perhaps it would have been wise if they had. It would have saved them a Vulcan officer.” She nodded towards his honor blade “permit me and I will take my life this minute.”
"Alas. That was the first order I was given when I was told of this assignment. Nearly everyone above me insisted that I do not allow you to do just that. Several houses have even told me that if I do that I will be ruining my family for generations to come," he said quietly. "I still considered it. You deserve at least that much honor," he said as they moved towards one of the guest quarters that he had arranged for her.
Inside the quarters it was spartan even for a Romulan. Most everything had been disabled and removed. There was no way for her to kill herself.
“How generous of them.” Shiarrael stated sarcastically. Either those houses truly wished to save her- something she doubted aside from political motivations or they wished to use her to further shame her house. She stepped into the room amused that her own people wanted to keep her alive after having complained that she lived.
"I have heard from my contacts in the Senate that they also insist that if you kill yourself now before being taken back to the homeworld that your family will bear the dishonor and shame for at least three generations. They really want you back for some reason," he said stepping back to the door. "Call the guards if you need anything," he said calmly before letting the door close behind him and lock tightly.
Left alone in the room Shiarrael smiled and peered down at the barren floor. She sighed and sat down on the cold metal. Crossing her legs she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She could feel the gentle vibrations of the D’Dherex’s singularity core; hear the sound of boot falls outside her door- she was back home. It was a refreshing feeling, the feeling of not being surrounded by aliens, trapped in an alien environment. If this journey led to her death, she was relieved that at least her spirit would wander the lands of her ancestors on its way to Vorta Vor.
Part IX "Tortured Torturer"
Drab was the best way to describe the cool, wet, box of concrete that she had been placed in after her arrival on Ch’Rihan- not that she could see much beyond the blinding spotlight trained on her. She could whispers nearby, interrogators debating about method. She withheld to urge to gurgle a half-laugh at the irony. How many people have treated so kindly? A smirk formed on her face and she shook her head while squinting at the annoying light.
“Do you find something funny Riov?”
“Funny?” Shiarrael’s smirk widened “what would I find so funny about this? I am just enjoying myself. I have long wished to tour the bowels of the senate- elements only knew that I would get a chance to actually see it! This is such an amazing privilege.” Sarcasm spilled from her like an avalanche- there was a grumble and then she could hear approaching footsteps.
“I assure you Riov. Your enjoyment will not last. You have aided our enemy- the only reason you are back is so we can execute you as an example to other Rihannsu about the price of treachery. Do you deny that you allowed yourself to be captured by the lloann'mhrahel?” The voice was cold and bitter- but he wasn’t Tal’Shair. Shiarrael could taste their stench a mile away- no, these were upstarts. Political tools, Tal’Diann agents. Now that was truly humorous.
“Allowed?” Shiarrael laughed “I allowed nothing. I did not build the Saeihr’llaiir and while I loved her greatly she did fail me at the most important moment. If you look at the records you will see that the self destruct command was given- that the crew was evacuated- and that the mechanism failed. Well, if the Tal’Diann has the ability to retrieve such records.”
“We can retrieve whatever we wish.” Came the indignant reply. There was a sound of shuffling and then Shiarrael felt it- a heavy shock rippling through her arms and into her torso. She hissed and attempted to clench her teeth but failed as they chattered wildly. Her muscles tensed and contorted in hideous spasms as her breath was wretched from her by the violent wave of energy. Finally it ceased and she was exhausted “vang’radam” she couldn’t see his face but she could hear the sneer.
She wanted to open her mouth to utter another choice phrase his way but her jaw muscles were tense and refused to part even a millimeter. Instead she groaned and twitched from the residual energy sparking through her nervous system. After a few minutes to compose she spit out a wad of foaming saliva and licked her lips “I…will…snap…you’re neck.”
“And how exactly will you manage-”
The sound of a slamming door silenced him. Shiarrael could hear echoing boot steps through the ringing in her ears. When the steps came to a halt she recognized the heavy and raspy voice “what is the meaning of this? Certainly tr’Katrin would not approve of this…” she could hear the Ta’Diann fool stammering “release her and tell your handler they would be wise to discontinue such disgrace.” Dead silence filled the room and then the heavy voice grew low and menacing like a growling thrai “now or I will have you strapped down into that chair and beaten until a Tal’Shiar scanner wouldn’t be able to recognize you.”
Shiarrael felt her wrists unshackled and immediately stood up shoving her torturer into the flood light knocking both over. The light crashed into the floor and went out. In the dimness she could barely make out the struggling silhouette on the floor attempting to stand up. Although still a bit jittery from her shock treatment she managed to reach down and grab the silhouette’s neck. His fingers wrapped around her shoulder in a vain attempt to pry her loose, however, she merely squeezed tighter. He rasped for breath until finally his body flailed and went numb. “Like this.” She spat.
“I see you haven’t changed very much Yhisu.”
“Change is hard. What are you doing here Rezek? You are the last person I expected to see.” Shiarrael stood up slowly and kicked the lifeless body a few times to make certain of its status “so did they send you here to convince me to take my life honorably? As if those fools would know the first thing about honor- they sit comfortably in their chairs and act the fool while the rest of us die for their stupidity. If I had the chance I would rid of them all.”
“Careful- you would not want the Tal’Shiar to hear such seditious talk.” Rezek commented with humor “and no. The senate is more interested in forgetting this most recent affair. It would be easier done if you were dead” his gaze moved to the body lying on the floor “but that will not easily be accomplished with you back on ch’Rihan. Disgracing you would also be difficult, it would mean disgracing the entirety of S’Rehu, and no one in the senate is brave enough to openly challenge such a clan. So that leaves only one option- forgetfulness. They want to simply forget about you.”
“Politicians always have loved convenience.” Shiarrael snorted and flexed her muscles trying to straighten out the straggling frayed nerves “so what will become of me? I assume I will be shipped off to some obscure planet to babysit a battalion of Gai’Shian?”
“No, your status has yet to fall that low, but I would be cautious if I were you. Your lists of enemies have only increased since the last time I met you. Even the most foolish in our ranks would have rid of some of their foes. Someone of your talent could have burned the entire list by this point.”
“It’s very hard to burn wood covered in thrai shit and not worth the effort.” Shiarrael studied her surroundings as her vision began to adjust “so if I am not to be sent to some backwards world to babysit Gai’Shian, what will be done with me?”
“What you enjoy- something that you excel at and that will keep you out of commands way. The patrol ship Ishae’thrai needs a new commander. You have been chosen. Send you off to the outmarches to be forgotten.”
Shiarrael smirked “at least someone has some sense.”