Before We Go
Posted on Thu Mar 9th, 2023 @ 2:43pm by Fleet Captain Maxwell Culver & Colonel Galen s'Khev
2,299 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Mission One: Goodwill Tour [Part One]
Location: Triton Seabase: Mess Hall
Timeline: MD10: 0800 hours
Max sat with the sun gently warming his back. This morning, there was a spread of local fruits, breads and some breakfast pastries: the same local fruit in a pastry braid with cream cheese, a danish and some small meat pies, made locally.
Max had a small hoard of fruits, a slice or two of bread and butter and a danish. A glass of orange juice sat before him to complete his kit sitting at the table with all his bases covered. He smiled at himself as he first felt the grayish color personality, then looked up to see the aura. With a blink, he was back to seeing Galen.
“Colonel, I thought you might enjoy breakfast before we leave?” Max asked pleasantly.
"Thank you, Captain." Galen said and took a seat. Like most things he followed the traditional Romulan food day. Which meant that breakfast was the smallest meal of the day. For the moment, Galen chose to have a cup of coffee, Jamaican blend from Earth. "Well, Captain, I am sure you are excited and ready to start our first mission."
“To be honest, Galen,” Max paused, remembering that Galen had approved of him using his first name while off duty. “I’m excited to be off on our longest sea journey. It’ll be ten days at sea and testing the base’s abilities.”
A young ensign rushed in, he whispered in Max’s ear. “Well, get it fixed, get all of engineering on it, if that’s what’s needed.” The ensign rushed off, looking worried.
“Just a minor problem,”Max assured Galen and Vianola. “Engineering should have it cleared before we’re done here.”
Max took a bite of fruit. “Where were we? Oh! Our next stop is Mountain Top. I’m concerned because I’ve heard Senator Killik is quite…especially rude by Romulan standards. I hope that my skills with Senator V’trel have proved to you that there are two sides of my personality. I can work with you and your people here.”
"Yes, indeed, and V'trel is making it known that you are worthy of debate. High praise from a Senator. However, I do caution you with duality and Romulans. If they ever catch wind that you are not up front with them, all of the work that you and I - and the rest of the crew - are trying to do will be for naught." Galen paused for a moment to sip his coffee and allow the words to sink in.
"Killik for his part is all bluster and very little action. He uses his rude ways and words to bully those into submission. The only secret to him is to not allow him to do that. Well that, and caution the rest of the crew against him. Killik has a tendency to try to sow unrest among those under an opponent's command." Galen truly tried to give some advice here. As much as they got off on the wrong foot, he wanted Max to succeed here.
Max avoided the urge to interrupt, multiple times, but he was learning to listen first to the Romulans and then make points after their statements. “While I don’t disagree that a duality could be problematic between myself and the Romulans, surely there must be a difference between working and home life? You can’t tell me that Romulans solely look to the Senate for all their chosen activities?” Max asked seriously.
"For the most part, that is exactly what I am saying. You have to understand that we come from a culture where the state rules most of what you do. Yes, of course there are things that the state has no control over, who you marry, what you do in your spare time are two examples. But when the Senate tells you to do something you usually do it as that is most likely in your best interests." Galen sipped his drink and nodded sagely when he had finished speaking.
“So…” Max paused without the ability to grasp the concept. It was discipline in the extreme. “Perhaps I need to cultivate a better relationship with the Senate, personally?” he wondered aloud. “I’m used to reacting first - for Starfleet - as long as I don’t break regulations. You’re telling me your entire society acts the opposite. It’s interesting and a good insight. Thank you.”
"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. If you can cultivate a relationship with the Senate they will, in turn, tell the people to accept you and by extension Starfleet. Therefore making our mission here a lot easier." Galen summed up a plan he had thought about for the past few days. He was elated to see that Max had understood and agreed with what he had said.
“As for Senator Killik, I’m not worried about him causing dissension among the crew, but I am concerned about his preceding reputation, bully or not. I can’t be seen to be weak around him. Do we approach him in force? Commander Paxidor would love to show up in full armor, weapons at the ready or do we take our normal approach?” Max asked quite seriously.
"A good defense is always the best offense. Especially when it comes to Killik. I would say approach him as you would any other Senator. However, have some shock and awe as it were on stand by. The biggest way to win here is to actually make yourself look as the bigger and better option to those in attendance. Make them want to follow you instead of Killik." Galen seemed to rather enjoy his time as the advisor to the throne. He was never the type that liked the spotlight, so he was contented to be the advisor.
Max ruminated on this new information on their next host. He took a few bites of food and a gulp of orange juice as he and Galen sat in comfortable silence for a little while.
Finally, when he was ready he looked at Galen and saw something new for the first time. Gone was the gray-ashen aura replaced by an almost orange color, a slow burn fire. He blinked and it was gone. “I’d like to sit down with you and Commander Paxidor before we arrive, but based on your advice, I think we should show up in force.
“You’ll command the SS Triteia, taking point ahead of the base. We’ll deploy the two tactical submarines and have Lieutenant Stewart flyover in our fighter. Do you think this show of force would be enough to take out some bluster?”
"Indeed, it will take out some of the bluster. Just make sure to walk the tightrope. You do not want too much force or those in attendance will think that you are trying to show off, or worse yet attack." Galen said as he took a sip of orange juice as well. Typically, Romulans did not enjoy citrus and yet he developed a taste for it while he spent time with humans.
Max was starting to understand, he thought. “I think I have the perfect solution. The Triteia,” he paused for moment. “Who in the hell names these things?” he wondered rhetorically before continuing, “anyway, the submarine will fly a highly visible Romulan flag. The seabase will be only adorned with her typical markings and the tactical subs can be equipped with plasma fireworks, a celebratory march to friendship.
“Shit, we can even blast the Romulan anthem if you think that would help. Something people will tell their kids about someday. I mean, we are arriving later in the evening.”
"The anthem will not be needed..." Galen began dryly although he did flash a rare smile. “I would hate to say it, only because it sounds cliché, but having me command one of the vessels goes toward exactly what you are talking about. It would show the willingness of the Federation to share what it has with the Romulan people."
“Then it’s settled. I’ve already started a dialogue with the Senate. I’d ask that you act as my aide and advisor both in preparation of and during these meetings, to clarify and misunderstanding in the idioms and language of Federation Standard, you you understand it. How often does a Romulan Commander contact the Senate?” Max asked seriously. He wanted to know if he should file reports daily, have conversations weekly, monthly. That type of information.
"Honestly, usually never, in the old Empire the military functioned separate from the Senate. The Senate would contact the Fleet Command or some such and request orders would come down the chain. Commanders did not contact directly unless they needed an immediate answer. Two separate but equal parts." Galen answered impressed with the question. Captain Culver definitely seemed to be making strides to be a friend to the Romulan people.
Max contemplated the response again. “I’m required by Starfleet to keep a mission log. These are transmitted at the termination of an assignment, or when necessary, and Starfleet is contacted when direct orders are issued or mission declarations need clarification.
“I’ll contact my Senatorial allies and ask their thoughts on making this standard protocol for Triton Seabase, at least until a mutual trust is built between us. I think this would go a long way to continuing to build a trustful relationship. Would you agree?”
"Agreed! It would also have the added benefit of making you look good in the eyes of traditionalists. As it would seem that you wanted to function as the traditional fleet did. Definitely a good move." Despite the propensity for parties Culver, seemed to grasp the political game of Romulans rather easily. This did not go unnoticed by Galen.
“Do you have any other suggestions for me? I’m really trying to make this work, Colonel, on many levels,” Max admitted. The least of which were transmitting his standard logs. “Any additional nuances of Romulan culture or politics that I can utilize to our benefit?” Max cut he pastry apart and took a bite off his fork.
Galen leaned back in his chair and sipped his orange juice as he thought for the moment. "It is going to take a great time to earn our trust.
“Romulans do not trust easily, however when we do trust it will not falter. So, the best advice I can give is to hang in there and continue to be an example of someone that can be trusted.
“Remember that the old wounds heal slowly. Humans are still not a people to be trusted. The Human involvement in the Klingon war so many years ago sealed that fate. Yes, we were the aggressors in that war. But, we would have rather had Humans stay out of it than side with the Klingons."
Max sighed. “First, despite my appearance, I am not Terran, Galen. I’m El-Aurian and I was born long after the Earth/ Romulan War or even the Klingon/Romulan War. I had nothing to do with either. Take me for my being, take me at my word, Galen. I only need to build trust between Starfleet and the Romulan Star Empire. That’s my job now.”
"I believe you, but it is not me that you have to convince. Add to that, while you may be El-Aurian, you are a Captain in Starfleet. To most people outside the Federation, the Federation is very human-centric. As such, you represent them, despite your actual heritage. It is a harsh, and horrible situation that is true. Nevertheless, it is the situation we are in." Galen tried to explain that there were those in this galaxy who practiced the guilt-by-association method of social interaction.
Max finished the small pastry he’d been eating and drank his orange juice while Galen talked. He listened, but he felt they were just talking in circles. “Traditionally, we would find ways to get the Romulan Senate to trust us, and through them, the Romulan people. Ideally, we should approach this from both angles.
“First, we work on the Senate, which will be more our jobs,” Max paused and pointed at himself and then Galen. “Then, we and the crew can focus on the people. You’ve said something here about sharing Federation technology.
“I’d like a full assessment of the types of technologies the Romulan people need, Colonel. Obviously, nothing classified, but transporters, replicators, medical facilities, medical supplies, other ways to join the Federation and Romulan Empire together.”
"Will do. The medical supplies I am sure will come in very handy. You will have that report by tomorrow morning. Now sir, if there is nothing else, I believe I have some Senators to contact." The next couple of days would be some of the most interesting for Galen. He would have to play the middle ground for the first time in a long time.
“It is in our better interests,” Max agreed. There was much to discuss, not the least of which was a slight delay to the base’s locking mechanism. A problem for Triton Seabase, Golden Towers and their very busy schedules. “Time waits for no man, Colonel.”
Max dropped his napkin on the table, beside his well eaten plate of food, stood and indicated he and Galen should go. The pair exited the room together. ’As a command team,’ he thought.
Just before leaving the room, Max said, “Commander Paxidor, you have the conn for a bit. Do see if we can’t get free of this docking clamp without a diplomatic dispute, shall well?”
It was a rhetorical question, therefore it required no response.
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