Observations

[NDak 0]

The wall screen continued to rotate between the actual news coverage and the editorialization of the various talking heads that formed the supposed expert opinion that the Federation viewers were supposed to listen to when they formed their own opinion.

 

Thomas scowled as the live feed of the event on the adjacent screen showed crowds lined along the ancient streets of the Romulan capital city cheering as the kannsa drawn carriage made its way towards the towering monument to S’Task.

 

“I guess he got what he wanted,” he said gruffly.

 

A few chairs over, a medium built human male with slicked back blonde hair adjusted his glasses before looking over to this partner. “He was running for election, I can’t imagine he wanted to lose.”

 

Thomas huffed and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair before leaning back in the stiff, composite chairs that surrounded the small silver table that sat at the center of the sparse room hidden away in a facility located somewhere near the Romulan border.

 

“Of course he wanted to win,” he said, a bit disdainfully. “Just most people aren’t so craven about it.”

 

The expression tightened on George's face. “So you think he had her killed?”

 

“You don’t?”

 

For a moment, George considered his response carefully before putting it into verbal form. “I am honestly not sure… have you read his file?”

 

“Yes, but humor me; what in his file makes you think he’s not a craven, ambitious man hell-bent on becoming a tyrant?”

 

George had, of course, committed the Starfleet Intelligence dossier to memory and took only a few moments to recall the pertinent details. “He comes from a line of military leaders who all had opportunities to make power grabs and didn’t,” he started off. “He graduated just as the Romulans were getting involved in the Dominion War – got involved in an operation with the Tal’Shiar and Starfleet Intelligence while he was serving as a liaison – but other than that, his early history is of a model officer who wanted to serve his Empire.”

 

“Right,” Thomas said. “But then…”

 

George sighed. “Right, he was posted to the Talon as an assistant security officer.”

 

“Where he gained a reputation for being…”

 

Sighing again George finished the sentence, “…ruthless, cutthroat, ambitious and occasionally reckless… “

 

Thomas nodded for George to continue.

 

“Still, according to the reports our agents have on him from those days, his superior officers regarded him as capable – they did promote him to Chief of Security over a more experienced candidate and the finally to First Officer over the course of just a few years.”

 

“You’re glossing over the fact that most of the people who were in between him and the ex-oh position mysteriously died or ended up in stasis.”

 

Protesting George scowled. “Given how limited our intelligence is during that time, I don’t think you can really make that assertion.”

 

“No,” Thomas conceded, “but it is something to think about.”

 

Another heavy sigh escaped George’s mouth. “Yeah, but everything we have on him during the Civil War paints a picture of a loyal patriot, fighting for his country. Hell he went from a Sub-Commander to one of the higher placed Admirals in what two, three years? Not to mention, he spent considerable amounts of his own money to help finance the Galae forces before the Klingons and us got involved.”

 

“I don’t see how that precludes him from just being an opportunist.”

 

“Yeah, but an opportunist doesn’t make him an assassin.”

 

“You think he’s just the lucky recipient of chance that in the last year, the Praetor who may or may not have been going to endorse him ends up nearly dying in attack by alien terrorists working with Romulans and now can’t even flutter his eyes open, and that the only person standing between him and the Praetorship ends up mysteriously poisoned just weeks before the election, the day after the deadline to put someone else on the ballot passed?”

 

“When you put it that way…”

 

“Starting to see why we think he’s a craven bastard?”

 

George frowned. “I don’t know, I just can’t see someone like him… someone as proud as he is bringing himself to eliminating his opposition so… dishonorably.”

 

Returning the frown, Thomas nodded. “That is one of the main issues,” he admitted. “But then, if you deal with the Romulans very much you learn that they rarely act directly. If he was behind the assassination of Donatra, he certainly didn’t order the hit himself.”

 

“You think he’s working with someone?”

 

“I am not sure.”

 

“But if Intel is soo sure on this, why aren’t we doing anything?”

 

“The devil you know…”

 

George tipped his head. “Huh?”

 

“For whatever other faults he has, we can be reasonably sure he’s not working with the Tal’Shiar and that he generally wants to keep the status quo, or at least has made strong enough overtures. The real question though, is how much knowledge does he have about those terrorist attacks…”

 

A burning image of Earth, her skies ablaze, after the Solton attack instantly hit at George’s heart and he felt his throat go dry. “We think… we think he’s connected to that?”

 

Thomas looked back to the live feed where Destorie Ma’lyn Sheuji of the House s’N’Dak was beginning his acceptance and victory speech in the looming shadow of the founder of the Romulan Empire, S’Task. “We just don’t know. We just don’t know.”