Gaval y N'Dak

[NDak 0]

Across a simple table stared two male Romulans of formative stature; neither appeared willing to bend towards the others will to even so much as to offer the other salutation. Finally, the more slight of the two, who wore the rank sash of a Daise’Erei’Riov, opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Arrain Hajan Gavel,” Destorie said in a voice colder than most vacuums. “Through the course of investigation…”

 

Gaval had been passively glancing around the room for the better part of an hour, waiting for N’Dak to grace him with his presence. As N’Dak began to rattle off the charges against him, he leaned back into his chair and listened, only mildly more attentively than most teenagers did when being scolded for staying out past curfew.

 

At some point, Gaval had heard more than enough of the arrogant, pompous ass’ pedantry. “Are you trying to bore me into a confession?”

 

N’Dak stopped mid-sentence and glowered at the traitorous Arrain. “Na, simply detailing to au exactly how guilty au are for the official record.”

 

“Ah,” Gaval said with a smug smile. “I see. Well, by all means, carry on. I am sure you’re just going to kill me in a few hours anyway in some terribly drool production meant to strike fear into the hearts of anyone else who would dare challenge the all mighty t’Rexan or her lap-dog N’Dak.”

 

“Her lap-dog,” Destorie said, nearly laughing. “That’s cute.”

 

“Ever since au took the position of executive officer, au have been little more than her servant, at her beck and call, doing her bidding, carrying out her ridiculous orders. I bet au did na even bother to point out to her what a horrible idea this entire mission was for fear that she might whip au again!”

 

“Au really do na know me, Arrain.”

 

“On the contrary,” he said. “I know that au bend easily to the will of those who hold power over au.”

 

Again N’Dak nearly broke out laughing but kept the emotional outburst under the surface. “As I said, au do na know me well at all. However, I did na come down here to discuss with au my relationship with the Khre’Riov, I came to discuss au role in the mutiny, which I have detailed.”

 

Gaval looked away, displeased they were returning to this subject again. “Very well, au may continue to prattle on.”

 

The force of the back of N’Dak’s hand against his mouth caught him truly off-guard, and the taste of coppery blood in his mouth was bitter and acrid.

 

“I know that you planned this from the start,” N’Dak said, “and that tr’Mrek was doing your bidding.”

 

“Very good,” Gaval said. “Always good to insulate yourself, though I suppose I did not do it well enough… obviously.”

 

Severe was usually the best word to describe Destorie N’Dak, and now was little different. “Obviously,” he said. “Perhaps you should have chosen more wisely among the crew for your little conspiracy. They gave you up very quickly.”

 

Gaval rolled his eyes. “Most of your crew is very weak willed.”

 

If it were supposed to be an insult it didn’t phase him. “So why don’t we get down to what I really want to know.”

 

Genuinely interested, Gaval finally gave N’Dak his full attention. “What is it that you don’t know already then?”

 

“Just why the Tal’Shiar would pick such an incompetent fool as their plant aboard the ship.”