Stardate 103010.9
(Guest appearance: Wenix by @nynik)
Korgal and most of the other noisy Klingons left the Hearth almost an hour ago and now, at the bar, only a Ferasan of silver-blueish fur in Klingon semi-armorish clothes sat at the bar. He looked to his host, Talaxian named Wenix, while sipping his fourth or fifth bloodwine spiced with a special type of berries. When the last patron finally left and the Hearth housed only himself, his Talaxian host and the Gorn bouncer, N’Rat had finally spoken.
“This place never ceases to amuse me.”, he said and purr-chuckled between two sips.
Wenix did not rush to fill the silence. He wiped the bar in slow, habitual strokes, then turned slightly, giving N’Rat his full attention. “Amusement keeps a place such as this alive… But it’s rarely the reason someone stays once the doors are closing. If something has been circling your thoughts, N’Rat, I am listening.”
A faint, knowing smile touched Wenix’s face and each of his ears in turn - a Talaxian gesture. He had noticed earlier, before the Klingons arrived, that N’Rat had seemed intent to speak on something.
N’Rat grinned, showing his Ferasan fangs as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Now, now, Wenix. You know that the shadiest of businesses are always conducted in the after-hours. Look at our most recent adventure with the Klingon redheads.”
He reached for his mug with a free paw and took a sip.
Wenix let out a quiet huff of amusement as the last of the patrons were ushered toward the doors by his staff. Some walked under their own steam, others were half-carried and loudly offended by it. The Hearth settled into its after-hours hush, fires burned low, shutters drawn. Cleanup underway, with more than a few bloodstains needing scrubbing or laser removal.
Wenix watched the last pair of warriors stumble into the street. “Yes, that kind of business does favour a closed door and fewer witnesses. The redheads were a mess for sure, in more ways than one.”
Wenix glanced at the patched crater in his floor and rested both hands on the bar. “So. Now that certain ears have gone… what is it that I see behind those eyes of yours? Surely you don’t find yourself in some trouble or another with the Star Empire.”
Upon reaching for his inner pocket and placing a small PADD on the bar, N’Rat clasped his paws together and elbowed himself against the surface, somewhat counter-mimicking Wenix’ posture. He shook his head as his grin disappeared. “No, not quite. I have… a friend of a friend of a friend who seems to be looking for trouble with the Star Empire. And this chain of friendship is… a Republican one.”
"A friend of a friend of a friend. That is two layers too many for comfort, and sometimes three too few for truth!”, Wenix said. His tone remained playful, but his eyes were alert. He glanced at the PADDs but did not go to touch it. “You do not need a long chain to start trouble with the Star Empire. Trouble finds people well enough on its own when empire loyalists.”
He leaned in a fraction more, though they weren’t within earshot of anyone, apart from maybe S’alazh the Gorn behemoth. But he had no interest in schemes. That much was clear to all patrons who had ever tried to communicate with him, let alone try to bribe him.
“So the question is not whether this is trouble, but what kind, I think. A reckless Republican stirring old embers, or someone more official within the Republic trying to provoke a response, they can blame on someone else later perhaps.”
He paused. “And more personally for you… where, in all of this, do they wish for you to stand?”
Wenix gestured at the PADD as if to ask N’Rat if he wished him to view its content, perhaps to answer those questions. Ferasan rested his paw on the PADD device and slowly moved it across the bar to Wenix, then pulled back his arm for Wenix to have a closer read. He took another sip.
“For me personally, it is a matter of honourable debt that I want to get it off my paws, to a fellow officer. Though I am probably going to assist if I don’t acquire help elsewhere. And even that assistance will not be in my capacity as an Alliance officer.”, N’Rat answered. He looked Wenix in the eyes and gestured towards the PADD device. “The subject in question is a star system in what Federation designates as the Lirss Sector. We call it Qorvl’ Qel, Romulans know it as Aen’korvai. Delta Corvi in Federation Standard. It was inhabited by Romulan and Reman refugees in the post-Hobus period, but some fifteen standard years ago it was attacked by Elachi.”
He frowns and exhales heavily. “The leader of this refuge, a Reman called Vrimek, cleansed the planet of Tal Shiar and Elachi by detonating a modified thalaron device, at the cost of leaving it a desolate rock. Entire ecosystem was erased, though civilisational infrastructure seems to have been preserved.”
Wenix finally drew the PADD closer, reading without hurry, though his brow tightened line by line. He set it flat again, fingers resting beside it, not on it.
“Elachi and the Tal Shiar. I have heard enough to understand why a Reman would see no path that did not end in fire. To choose such an action - that is not victory. That is deciding the enemy will never be able to take your home, because there will be no home left to take.”
Wenix looked away for a brief moment, jaw tightening, as if the thought had weight of its own in his own past. “I have seen people win a fight that way before. They rarely keep what they were fighting for however. They destroy themselves in the end.”
Wenix turned back to N’Rat. “So tell me, what became of the refugees? Tell me they at least got off world before it happened? And what does this ‘fellow officer’ believe can be gained by prodding the Star Empire’s remnants now? Justice, vengeance… or an excuse to start something that others will be forced to finish?”
N’Rat nodded as he put away his half-empty mug and took a more interrogational posture, knitting together his paw digits, resting his one elbow on the bar. “Out of some thirty eight thousand colonists, three thousand were left unaccounted for to this day. They were presumably taken by Elachi, since all of the evacuation shuttles took off, according to the reports from that time. The lucky ones settled on New Romulus, building their own little neighbourhood. Like other colonists, they have their own representative in the Senate, even though territorially they fall under the New Romulus electoral district.”
He turned his gaze to the PADD device, studying it from afar, his tail swishing casually. “I am afraid this has very little to do with the colonists themselves or even further weakening the Star Empire. They just want to go home. But the Republic…”, he huffed. “The Republic needs some kind of symbolic victory to prove that it takes care of all its citizens, not just because it is convenient. While former Imperial colonies closer to New Romulus were a matter of practicality, this… This would demonstrate that the Republic stands for Romulans, no matter whether they are ex-colonists, Imperials or whatever. It is more a political decision, rather than a humanitarian one. And those ex-colonists are becoming quite grumpy ever since information about possible planetary restoration leaked out.”
Wenix remained quiet for a long moment, absorbing the shape of what N’Rat was saying. "Then this is not just about how the Star Empire may react, it is about what political narrative is being crafted. If the Republic is letting word of potential restoration leak, there may at least be some technical basis for it. Politicians may sometimes gamble on hope alone, but more often than not, they tend to ensure they have at least something convincing to act upon - if only to throw someone else under the hoverbus when the time comes. Perhaps that ‘something convincing’ is still being collected.”
He tapped the bar once, a small, deliberate sound. “But that does not mean the hope is honest. A world scoured by thalaron power might be stabilised, surveyed, even walked on again through technical means, though I’ve never heard of one. But livable, in the sense those colonists remember? That is another matter entirely, one that could take decades. And require more than just political will. I’m no expert but as I understand it, once a planet’s biosphere is destroyed it can’t exactly be brought back.”
Wenix’s gaze settled firmly on N’Rat. He wondered what the Ferasan was going to do. “If expectations are being stoked before the truth is clear, then yes, you are sitting on a charging disruptor bank. And whether it discharges or not will depend on who establishes the facts first. Are you going to be the one to verify it?”
N’Rat purred quietly as he reached out with his left paw for his chin, rubbing it gently. He looked into some imaginary point past Wenix, as if projecting his thoughts elsewhere and elsewhen. “Whether the Republic has means to restore this planet or not is entirely up to them. I was asked about the concerns with the question how the Star Empire would respond to a potential intrusion, however brief.”
He looked back to the PADD device, pointing at it. “The Empire has placed four tachyon scanners throughout the system. Their configuration suggests that the Empire expects cloaked vessels, presumably Republic ones. The scanners should be destroyed by more… convenient force. Say… freelancers, scavengers or pirates known to operate in that area.”
“Hm, ‘freelancers’ knocking out a tachyon sensor net will buy noise, sure, but not silence. The Imperials will come looking and read it as intent, even if the Republic’s hands appear clean." Wenix let out a soft breath through his nose, something between a chuckle and a consideration, and nodded once and tapped the bar near the PADD. “If all that’s needed is a look, though… to get in, test some terraforming science for a short while, then there are quieter ways to go about it.”
He lowers his voice a fraction. “Old Talaxian traders used a trick that I’ve found. Still works quite well here in the Beta Quadrant. Sensor lensing…. You do not blind the scanners, you persuade them to look elsewhere for a time. Ghost echoes, bent returns, a system that appears exactly as expected while something slips through the margins…. Good for scouting. Verifying what is truly there.”
His eyes lifted to N’Rat. Trying to see whether the Ferasan was really looking to brainstorm, or just sound out whether or not he wanted to get involved in a hot mess taking shape in Qorvl’ Qel. “But if the Republic plans a real move, terraforming proper… infrastructure, traffic… then subtlety goes out the airlock. At that point, the Imperials will notice, no matter how clever the trick.”
N’Rat smirked at Wenix. “So you would advise not to make a brief pirate incursion in order to see how the Imperials might react?”
Wenix returned the smirk with a dry look of his own and reached for the bloodwine ladle without waiting for an answer. "I would advise you to have another drink first.”, he said as he poured fresh bloodwine into the mug by N’Rat on the bar. “And perhaps settle your tab before you decide to test the Star Empire’s reflexes in a system wired with tachyon sensors and explosive interests!”
Wenix leaned in just enough to make the point land. “A pirate incursion tells the loyalists exactly one thing - that there’s something worth checking. They will respond accordingly, and not in ways your Republic friends can easily disown if caught with their shields down.”
A pause, then a faint shrug. “Finish the drink. Pay what you owe. Then, if you still feel like running offworld into a powder-keg, at least you will do it with no debts following you…. and perhaps an idea or two more up your sleeve.”
N’Rat quickly emptied his mug of fresh bloodwine and purr-chuckled afterwards. He grinned at Wenix as he spoke. “My dear barkeep, I am not going anywhere. I am just conveying messages from an interested party.”
He reached for the PADD device and put it back into his inner pocket, from which he then drew latinum slips. As they clunked on the bar he continues: “As for my colleagues, if they can’t see reason based on the gathered intelligence, perhaps they will listen to some common… or commoner reasoning, to be more precise. The whole thing is a lost…”
He suddenly stopped and blinked with his eyes, his ears’ flap following. His tail stretched downwards and then he grinned. “A lost cause. Hm. Why haven’t I thought of that earlier?”
Wenix watched the shift in N’Rat with the satisfaction of a barkeep who had seen this moment strike more times than he could count. He gathered the latinum without fuss, tucked it away, then settled his hands on the bar. “Ah, that look usually turns up when the drink is doing its work and realisation of the duty shift hour occurs suddenly. I see it on a lot of faces, warriors, merchants, even loresingers… the point where something tangled suddenly seems obvious. It’s the Gorra berries in your bloodwine, if you don’t believe me. They help unlock the mind!”
A faint smile touched his mouth. “I will not pry, of course. Whatever clarity just found you is your own affair.”
He paused, eyes lingering on N’Rat all the same, and then continued, very ‘casually’. “That said, when someone stops mid-sentence and grins like that, it is usually because they have found a way to reframe the problem rather than solve it head-on. A ‘lost cause’ can be a very useful thing.”
N’Rat chitter-laughed and patted Wenix on the shoulder. “There is a Human saying, when you want to deal with Romulans, you need a Romulan yourself. And there is one particular Romulan group that Tal Shiar are afraid of.”
He straightened his posture and nodded to Wenix. “I was asked to offer a solution and this one may be the thing we need.”
Wenix let out a quiet laugh, the kind that comes easy for someone who isn’t stuck in the middle of such situations as N’Rat seemed to be. He gave his patron’s shoulder a brief, companionable squeeze in return. “Another happy customer. That is what I am here for. I just hope it all ends well. These things rarely do, but it never hurts to wish.”
He glanced toward the bloodwine basin in the centre of the “Hearth of Honour”, it had a long stories past of its own that few knew, and fewer might believe… then back again. “If the Republic ruffles the Empire’s feathers a bit and it means those refugees might see a way home someday. I’d sure like to hear of it again. Do share how it unfolds, if you can. And mind yourself along the way.”
N’Rat gave a small bow. “Thank you, Master Wenix. I believe it is time that I retreat to my quarters as well.”
The Hearth had long since emptied. The last of the patrons were ushered out some time ago, singing, arguing, or half-carried into the night, leaving only the low crackle of the fires and the scent of spilled bloodwine behind. Wenix moved through the hall at an unhurried pace, setting chairs upright and dousing table candles one by one; restoring the hall to its quiet, after hours order which few ever saw.
When N’Rat offered his small bow, Wenix inclined his head in return. “Rest well N’Rat; rest well indeed.”
When the large doors closed behind the Ferasan, the Hearth settled into complete silence. Wenix stood for a moment behind the bar, listening to the dying embers of the fires, before finally turning out the last light and locking the doors for the night.
