(OOC: This is a background character story for Nimue. I am
anticipating two or three parts. I am not quite sure of the correct
spelling of Councillor, so I went with what they used in 'Articles of
the Federation'. Also, Ardana is the planet featured in TOS: The
Cloud Minders. A Federation member from before the UFP had
humanitarian standards. You can find more details at:
http://memory-alpha.org/en/wiki/Ardana.)
"The Kevratas Run – Part One"
by Lieutenant Nimue Andraste
and Ambassador Aerv Laehval tr'Ahalaen
= Three Years Ago =
= Kevratas Colony =
It had been some time since Aerv tr'Ahalaen had received his last
highly classified, priority one message. It was simply not the kind of
thing that happened to civilians - quite a pity, actually, because the
thrill, anticipation and dread of such a missive was simply a
wonderful sensation...and Aerv did so adore wonderful sensations. So
the newly minted ambassador was quite looking forward to the next
great galactic calamity that would result in him being contacted in
this most urgent and demanding way. A world or two might have to
perish, of course, so that the decadent Rihannsu could experience this
moment – unfortunate but quite exciting.
Imagine his unmitigated glee when – even trapped on as wretched a
world as Kevrastas - tr'Ahalaen was contacted by a member of the
Federation Council itself. Of course, Aerv was aware that the whole
thing would become quite a nuisance by the time that the Tal Shiar got
around to asking their questions about this matter - whatever it
turned out to be. However, there were times when even a tactician and
ambassador was willing to ignore the future consequences of an action
in order to simply enjoy the moment.
The caller was a severe humanoid woman with silver hair and gorgeous
brown eyes. Most individuals would have thought she was human. Aerv,
however, noted the flowing violet gown she wore and identified the
fashion rather quickly. His caller was from Ardana; more
specifically, the famed Cloud City of Stratos. The lines of worry
that had begun to appear on the woman's aging visage, however, were
not typical of the dwellers of that idyllic metropolis. Then
again...politics was an exhausting game, as tr'Ahalaen had himself
learned after retiring from the Galae.
"Ambassador tr'Ahalaen. I am Councillor Xanthe Andraste of Ardana."
"A pleasure, Councillor."
"Under normal circumstances, Ambassador, I am certain it would be.
Right now, however...well, I cannot thank you enough for taking my
call."
"Then do not thank me at all, Councillor," the decadent Rihannsu
replied with a charming smile, "Tell me: how may ch'Rihan help
Ardana?"
The woman blushed, obviously flustered with the question and the
weight of the words. "It...it is not an official matter, Ambassador.
I am afraid I require your assistance to deal with a more personal
matter."
Aerv sat back in his chair. "Of course...please proceed."
Councillor Andraste managed a small smile, looked away and then shook
her head. "I...don't know quite where to begin. Suffice it to say
that I married a Betazoid despite the wishes of my family and
people…you know how it is with young love...."
tr'Ahalaen smiled. "Everyone knows."
"At any rate...my husband turned out to be a most unfortunate person.
He had no use for libraries or books. The whole intellectual force of
Stratos was utterly wasted on him. He was always off adventuring and
- well, doing whatever it is that Betazoids do." Seeing that Aerv was
about to interrupt, Andraste continued quickly, "The point,
Ambassador, is that my union was not entirely without fruit. You see
- I had a daughter, of sorts...."
Aerv blinked. "Of sorts?"
"Yes – Nimue Andraste. Well, Ambassdor tr'Ahalaen, my little girl -
she is still quite young, you know - around one and twenty...or so I
think. I will have to do some calculations. The thing is that she
also up and joined Starfleet and flew around goodness knows where...."
tr'Ahalaen was beginning to wonder if this entire business was really
worth a high priority message.... Still a morbid curiosity compelled
him to ask: "Flew around?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, yes - you see, apparently this child of that horrible
father - she was some kind of prodigy, really - at flying things. She
won all sorts of little awards and things, you know - worthless
garbage, really, I always told her. Who ever heard of an Ardanian
pilot. A ridiculous notion. However, she would not be dissuaded,
Ambassador. I tried all the usual things, you know, banishing her to
her room or threatening to send her to mine zenite with the Troglytes.
It was, after all, inconsiderate of the child to have a talent in
such a field. Painting or literature - now that would have been quite
different.... I could not, of course, approve of her *flying*. It is
simply not a done thing."
"Of course," Aerv murmured, wondering by now how to extract himself
from this conversation.
"So then the stupid girl - one would think she had inhaled too much
zenite from the way she acted - just runs off and joins Starfleet.
The reason I call you, Ambassador, is that recently my daughter left
Starfleet…."
"Left?" tr'Ahalaen frowned. "No one just leaves a military
organization, Councillor."
"Well...no one leaves Stratos either, but she did. Yes...she's always
been trouble, that one. This time, I do believe, she is on leave from
some vile Starfleet breeding facility in the Anarin System…."
"Ah yes…there is a Starfleet Academy Campus there."
"Exactly so. You're a very astute man, Ambassador. I always liked
Romulans. Very astute people. Now, where was I? Ah yes, it has come
to my attention that Nimue may be on Kevratas. Now why anyone would
want to be on Kevratas is beyond me. I mean, I realize you are forced
to be there due to your family's recent political difficulties...."
"Not at all," Aerv cut in sharply, "My father has been given the
important charge of once again making Kevratas a viable colony for the
Declared and we have accepted the same with honor."
"Yes," the woman drawled, disbelief obvious in her voice, "Be that as
it may, it appears that my demon child has run into some difficulty
with the authorities on Kevratas. I was hoping you could look into
the matter for me."
"The authorities!" Aerv exclaimed, trying not to imagine the horrible
complications that would arise should a Starfleet Cadet come to harm
from local law enforcement. "Madam, you should have informed me
immediately."
"Well, I did," the woman replied with a withering stare, "I'm a very
good mother, you know - I heard about the girl for the first time in
years, and there she is in Romulan space, and I got up from a very
important meeting, you see - something about plants and the like - and
I called you right away. Please do tie her up and mail her back to
Stratos. I will, of course, pay for the shipping and handling."
Aerv rose to his feet. "I will look into this right away, Madam."
"Thank you, Ambassador. Please be careful though...the girl - I'm
afraid she's not...well, she's not what you would call stable."
"Your daughter is...insane?"
"Worse," Xanthe Andraste of Ardana replied, her face grim, "My
daughter is a hippie."
= Later =
Despite being quite well versed with the grand events of human history
and culture - especially by Romulan standards - Aerv tr'Ahalaen had to
do a quick reference learn what the term "hippie" meant. That was the
only term the Ardana Representative to the Federation had used to
describe her own daughter - at least at her present age - and the
Ambassador wanted to know exactly what kind of individual he was going
in to rescue.
It was indeed going to be a rescue. It turned out that the message
from Earth had come at exactly the right time. It turned out that
Nimue Andraste was causing quite a stir on Kevratas. Apparently, the
young woman had taken it upon herself to defend a young thief. The
local authorities were not impressed and were raising quite a
brouhaha, insisting that they be allowed to shoot the "armed and
extremely dangerous human".
When Aerv arrived at the scene, he had to make his way through a
rather dirty crowd. He could not blame the poor though, for
assembling here in this fashion. Surely, more than anything else,
what the poor lacked was good entertainment. Food, Aerv suspected -
though he had never really had a reason to find out - one could
probably do without. A good opera, on the other hand, was nearly
priceless.
Then he saw Nimue Andraste....
"Incredible."
Let us note - in case there is any confusion about the matter – that
she was most certainly not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
He had seen women with greater charms and women with more grace. And
yet Aerv tr'Ahalaen had no doubt that he would always remember the day
he first saw Nimue Andraste.... It was not simply the fact that she
was dangling, upside down, from a tree outside a small hovel -
probably the home of the young thief she was intent on denying the
authorities - with a large, wooden stick in her hand, which was being
used to smack any peace officer who came close to the house on the
head, with a playful laugh and the slightly crazed admonition: "Bad
Rommie...that's a bad Rommie!" Of course, the stick was not her only
weapon - she also had a Starfleet phaser with her that she used to
stun anyone foolish enough to brave a few whacks to the head. A black
and tan Terran canine pup was lying at the foot of the tree, quite
relaxed and apparently not too surprised the way events were
unfolding.
It was a memorable scene. Years later he would still fondly remember
that mischievous sparkle of her remarkable brown eyes...her shirt had
tumbled down (or up, he was not quite certain of his prepositions just
then) and snagged on her breasts - that seemed determined,
unfortunately, to protect their own modesty - exposing the flat of her
stomach...the waves of her light brown hair, dancing happily on a
gentle breeze...her tapering, athletic legs making the whole acrobatic
- if slightly insane - display look effortless. However, Aerv had the
feeling that he would have remembered her no matter where he saw her -
because she was not like any other sentient creature he had ever seen
- the Elements themselves seem to respond to her. There was something
fey about her...it made one believe that she was connected to
everything around her at some basic level, as if she flowed into the
universe and the universe flowed back into her....
What struck Aerv most, however, was that the girl simply did not care.
He had spent his entire life searching for the perfect phrase in
someone else's book, for that one sublime brush stroke in someone
else's painting, so he was used to dealing with beauty that was
contrived, designed and conscious. He had courted women who had known
they were very pretty indeed - they cared about their image - so none
of them would had the freedom to...well, dangle upside down from a
tree and make an absolute fool of herself in front of an entire city.
This woman – Nimue Andraste - she just didn't care. She just wasn't
aware of herself in that way - and if she had been, he suspected she
would have laughed at herself.
"Ever till now," tr'Ahalaen whispered, understanding finally those
Shakespearian lines that had eluded him his whole life, "When men were
fond, I smiled and wondered how...."
"Ambassador?"
Aerv looked at the rather short, yet sturdy officer who had spoken.
The man was rubbing his head gingerly and was quite green in the face.
tr'Ahalaen grinned, "Problems?"
"Let me kill her, Lhhai," the officer was quite ready beg, it seemed,
"Please. Please just let me take one shot at her...."
"I do not believe it will come to that," Aerv replied, still quite
amused, "She is just one, lost girl."
"Girl! That...that is a hellion, Lhhai, an unholy soul with no...."
"Thank you," the nobleman said, cutting off the officer's sputtering,
indignant triade with a slight wave of his hand. "I will deal with
it."
By now the young woman and seen him. She obviously recognized,
probably by his mode of dress and the deference given to him by the
authorities, that he was the one in command. So she pulled herself
up, somehow twisted around landed on the ground. tr'Ahalaen put on
his most official face. There were too many people here for him to be
too indulgent with the woman.
Even so, he acknowledged by saying, "That is some trick."
Nimue ignored the compliment. "And who might you be?"
"I am Ambassador Aerv Laehval tr'Ahalaen, Blade of the Declared.
Right now, however, I am someone called upon to do a favor for the
Ardanian Councillor to the Federation."
"Crap."
"Yes," tr'Ahalaen declared with a smile, "Indeed. I know exactly who
you are. Cadet, you are a Starfleet Officer and a Federation citizen
on Romulan soil. You are - at best - a guest here. Instead of
treating our customs with the respect they deserve, you have come to
our world and are obstructing justice."
"No. I'm obstructing the law. There's like...a difference."
"That is not for you to decide."
Andraste scowled. "They want to throw a kid into prison for stealing bread."
"Theft is against the law."
"He was hungry. He had no food. There was nothing else...."
tr'Ahalaen shook his head. "That is not relevant. And even if it
were, it is not your concern...you have no jurisdiction here."
"I have a really big stick. That means I have jurisdiction. I'm
pretty sure they taught us that at the Academy."
Aerv laughed softly, "I am sure that the Starfleet will be delighted
to hear their teachings have given fruit."
That seemed to deflate her a little. "You've told Starfleet?"
"I have not. Whether your mother has or not, I cannot say. I doubt
it. She does not seem too fond of tehm. However, that does mean that
I still have the power to tell Starfleet…and I can assure you that is
an option I have not yet ruled out. I am certain they would not
appreciate this…adventure of yours."
"There's no reason for this to be a thing. Just let the kid go."
"No...and please no not make further demands. You are in no position
to negotiate. You are subject to the laws of this land, as is the
individual you are attempting to defend. How did you think this was
going to end?"
"Well…actually, I hadn't thought that far ahead."
"So it would appear."
Nimue - a cute little slyph of a thing - actually managed to snarl at
him. "Stop being such an ass. This sucks. People here have nothing
- hell, they barely have clean water to drink."
"Well then...." tr'Ahalaen replied with a small smile, "Let them drink ale."
"Fuck you."
"You may do that whenever you wish, Cadet, I will remain at your
disposal. Now...as you can see, you have no options. Do you
surrender yourself to me?"
She said nothing for a moment, apparently considering her options for
the first time. Obviously, she had been telling the truth when she
claimed she had not thought ahead. That alone was fascinatingly alien
a concept to Aerv, having grown up in a culture where strategy was a
way of life. When nothing happened for a few moments, Andraste's dog
jumped to its feet and gave a short bark. That, for some reason,
seemed to help the young woman make her decision. "Fine." Nimue told
the puppy, "Only because you're hungry though, Oopdink. Not because
we are scared of Rommies." Abruptly, she tossed her weapons at Aerv's
feet. "As for you. You can go to hell. Oh wait...you're already
here."
"That is quite enough. Too much truth poisons the masses. Come...it
is time for you to go home."
= End Log =
