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The Greeting

Posted on Fri Mar 9th, 2018 @ 1:18pm by Sub-Commander Dutir
Edited on on Sun Apr 1st, 2018 @ 12:36am

Mission: S2E1: Ponzi Scheme
Location: I.R.W. Chula
Timeline: January 26, 2389 - 1700h - MD1

Sub-Commander Dutir sat in the command chair of his personal shuttle, Chula, and watched the stars streak by as he reflected on the events that led him to this posting. Over the past decade he had risen from an Uhlan Inventory Control Officer to a Sub-Commander with the most prestigious posting that no one wanted. Even more impressive was the fact that he had managed to do this without anyone discovering that he was a proponent of Vulcan/Romulan Unification. The Tal’Shiar were forever vigilante for anyone who they deemed disloyal to the Star Empire, and the Unificationists definitely for their definition. Luckily, they would be sectors away and he could live his life out from under their oppressive shadow.

The distance from the Tal’Shiar was not why be he had pushed for this posting, even though it was fortuitous, he had fought for this assignment because it was what was best for his people. He was so sure that this was the best course of action for his people that he had approached the Senate itself with the proposal. He had passionately explained that the Star Empire needed allies in this ever changing galaxy and he was the man to ensure that. He was fluent in all the languages of the major powers and had just spent the last five years under the tutelage of their best ambassador. Even with such sound reasoning, he barely managed to convince a majority of the governing body.

Now here he sat, a week later, with the certain knowledge that a failure in his self imposed mission would result in him no longer having a home. The mere fact that he was a Romulan would be enough for most worlds to declare him an enemy while those who opposed him with use it as proof that he was of no use to the Star Empire. Unfortunately the centuries of mistrust between the Romulans and the rest of the galaxy ensured that his task would not be an easy one. He would have to build bridges where deception and outright hatred had created canyons of distrust. Dutir would be pulled from his reflections by the voice of his personal pilot.

“Sub-Commander, we are approaching our destination.”

“Drop out of warp, Sub-Lieutenant. Remain cloaked until we are sure that they don't pose a threat,” commanded Dutir.

Minutes later, the Kestrel class shuttle’s sensors had not detected any sign of attack ships and was now decloaking while opening a communication channel. “Roosevelt Station, I am Sub-Commander Dutir of the Romulan Star Empire. I wish to open negotiations.”


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