Rumors

Posted on Thu 29th Aug, 2019 @ 10:57pm by Carlo Rienzi

951 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Observation Walk, Deck 280
Timeline: MD 6, 1738

Reon Velasquez leaned against the wide sill on the window overlooking the repair dock. "Wow, you were right on the nose with this gossip," he said to his friend. "That ship has been in a fight with something, no doubt about it. I don't understand anything about Klingon politics, but I can't understand why they would attack one of their own. Any of your scuttlebutt give a reason for that, other than, 'Klingons are unknowable'?"

"More like, 'Klingons are crazy,'" Carlo said as he shook his head, looking at the wrecked Klingon ship. "That thing took a hell of a lot of damage. That's some major hate going on there. And no, I don't have a clue as to why. I heard someone talking about internal House politics, so maybe that's what it was." Carlo eyed Reon. "If he survived, that new ambassador will have to watch his back. Somebody really wants him gone."

"I'd agree," Velasquez said, thoughtfully. "If this were Earth, perhaps 200 years ago, I might be tempted to think it was some kind of cartel or gang-associated violence. I'd like to know who and how many attacked him. With his ship looking like that, I'd like to know why he isn't dead, frankly. He must be one bad warrior! I'll have to figure out how a mere doorman and bouncer at Orchids & Jazz goes about meeting the Klingon Ambassador."

"Oh!" Carlo gave Reon an extremely interested look. "Well, since you put it that way... I do serve bloodwine. And I'd stack my bloodwine up against anything the Targ Restaurant serves. The question is, would this ambassador trust us any farther than he could throw us, if we just showed up with a few barrels and said, 'Welcome to here!' But if we were able to talk to someone more official--Isn't Ms. Lantz the head of the Promenade Merchants' Association? I don't think her jazz club is quite the place for rough and ready types like Klingons. Maybe she'd like a little assistance in providing a suitable welcoming gift on behalf of the merchants? In a more ... durable party venue?"

"Hmmmm. O & J has managed Marines pretty well. You know Miss Lantz. No one gives her trouble," Reon grinned, "not even me. But your idea has some merit - the part about showing up with a barrel of the stuff. It isn't that I'm not sure any Klingon worth the title warrior couldn't go through a few barrels. I'm just not sure your bottom line could bear that much," he laughed.

"My bottom line couldn't," Carlo agreed.

"I'll bet he has a bodyguard scheduled, though, to keep him away from the lower base rats. And a secretary. And who knows how many assistants? We'll have to see what we can find out and come up with a plan. I really want to know the story of this battle!" Velasquez said, as the Klingon ship came to a complete stop.

"Alternatively, you and I could start to frequent the Targ Restaurant," Carlo suggested. "Klingon ambassador's got to show up there eventually, right? At some point he's gong to want some nice, home-uncooked gagh, and I don't think you can replicate that."

"Ugh, I don't think I can haunt a place that serves gagh. Even if they cooked it!" his friend answered. "Maybe I'll just wait for the rumors to surface. I'm sure there are enough Klingons on that ship to start a few."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Carlo said. "In any case, I don't object to us finding out where the new Klingon ambassador likes to hang out and being there when he does. Because you're right. I'll bet his stories are amazing."

Reon clapped his friend on the back. "We can keep the idea of gifting a barrel of bloodwine as a backup," he grinned. "Who knows? Maybe the ambassador likes pizza and will show up on your doorstep."

The two of them, with quite a lot of other people who kept arriving, watched the wounded vessel creep up to the docking arm and lock on. From there, it was a short time until the engines were shut down, and an entrance opened, with a ramp to the dock walkway. "Oh, look a little lower. Medical is gathering down there. I thought it was too good to be true that there were no injuries, probably even a few deaths." Velasquez shook his head. "I do not understand why this happened, and that bugs me, you know?"

"It does point to problems in the government itself--bad problems--if one House is willing to assassinate the ambassador that the legitimate government chose," Carlo said. "If I were this ambassador, that would scare the bejeezus out of me. Way to make you not feel at all secure." He squinted as he watched the triage proceedings. "Hey, is that Dr. Addams down there?"

Reon looked where Carlo pointed. "Oh, has to be. No one else has that hair ... or is quite so, ah ... slender. Makes sense, too. Ambassador, CMO. Best of the best for the diplomats. Not that I think that's why Dr. Addams is there. More than likely, once she's fixed everyone who can be fixed," he grinned, "she's hoping there will be a Klingon left to dissect."

Carlo gave Reon a wry look. "Considering how damaged that ship is, there just might be." He shook his head as the hangar doors slowly closed behind Bej'joq. "Are you on or off duty tonight? I'm thinking of making Italian enchiladas for dinner at my place, if you're interested."

"That's just wrong, you know," Velasquez laughed. "Italian enchiladas? That's worse than fish tacos!"

 

RSS Feed