The Air is Sweeter Somehow

Posted on Wed Jun 7th, 2023 @ 10:15pm by Dreyem Taga

937 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Mission 4 - Like a Thunderbolt
Location: Office of the Colonial Governor, Falta III
Timeline: MD04 - 0800

Dressed in a mauve jumpsuit with a delicate pattern of flowers and leaves, stitched in white and a slightly deeper shade of mauve, across her left breast and traveling upward along her shoulder and down her left arm, and wearing a pair of white heels, Dreyem Taga sat on the small balcony where once Kiter Tizd had enjoyed a drink with his cronies, with a cup of spiced tea in front of her.

As she lifted the cup, her gaze dropped to the pattern of leaves. She had had the pattern created specially, the outfit readied for today, And, while not given to smiles or even particularly, to leisure, in this moment, alone and triumphant, she smiled. The tea was a spiced blend produced here on her world and she savored its taste as she sat, relaxed, looking out over Faltan City. Her city. Her world. Free from of taint. Free of outside influence. Pristine once more. She lifted her teacup in a sort of mock salute and whispered across its top, "good-bye Federation."

Her aide walked out onto the balcony a waited at a respectful distance to be acknowledged. Reasonable, she thought, considering the anger that had filled her to overflowing these past few years. But not today. She turned toward him and acknowledged his presence with a nod. "What is it, Lytel?"

"Governor, Idryn Arbei is here. He says he has an appointment?" The aide's expression was a curious mix of reproach and suspicion as he waited for a response. Deserved, she thought, since that disastrous surprise visit from the Romulan Ambassador. Measures had been taken since then. Some things could not happen twice.

"Ah yes," Dreyem responded. "He called late last night. I meant to leave a message for you but was distracted. You can send him in."

Lytel, who had learned long ago the art of keeping his facial expression serene and as smooth as the surface of the Lake of Tears, nodded politely and decided to enjoy the moment rather than question it. Good moods were a rarity in this job. "Yes, Governor," he said. "At once."

A few moments later, Idryn swept out onto the balcony dressed in an immaculate charcoal gray suit that was, as always, devoid of ornaments or bright pops of color. Her spymaster remained in the shadows, both professionally and sartorially. "Governor," he said with the slightest of bows. At her gesture, he took a seat across from her and poured himself a cup of tea. "I trust that all is well with you?"

"The air just feels," Dreyem said as she shrugged lightly, smiling over the top of her teacup, "cleaner this morning. Don't you think, Idryn?"

"Indeed, Madam Governor," Idryn said as lifted his own teacup in salute. "My operatives report that the entire base has been abandoned." He paused a moment and then added, "Romulans included."

Dreyem settled back in her seat, pondering the possibilities. I am done, she thought, with hiding my lights, playing parts. We have our world, now we must keep it. The two sat in silence for a few moments, waiting, before Lytel returned with the Ministers in tow. Before her aide could draw breath to speak, Dreyem rose smoothly to her feet. "Please," she said, "join us. Lytel, if you don't mind, would you bring another pot of tea and those pastries from the Joonai's?"

Lytel nodded and withdrew, returning a short while later while the ministers settled into seats at the table and brought out their notes and reports. Tea was served and a large platter of pastries was placed in the center of the table. "Will you be needing anything else," Lytel asked.

"If you would, stay and take notes," Dreyem said. "We have a lot to cover this morning."

"I'll just get my pad," Lytel said. The phrase was a code of sorts, indicating that the meeting should be recorded, but that Lytel would need to remain so that none would get suspicious. The illusion of a lesser means of recording. Once that was done, Lytel picked up a pad and pen and returned to the meeting, settling into place at the Governor's right hand. No tea. No pastries of course. Proprieties must be observed.

Dreyem's gaze slanted toward the Minister of Armed Forces. "Have we been able to activate the orbital defense platforms?"

"Not as yet," the Minster answered, who stopped in mid-reach for a pastry to answer, "we're having to do some repairs. Estimate the system will be back online by this time tomorrow."

"The sooner the better," Dreyem said as she set her teacup down precisely on the saucer and looked to each member of the group. "The aliens are gone and we have the world to ourselves again. Plans are already being set in motion to secure our future, protect our world, this system, from aliens who answer to no one but themselves and believe that they can do whatever they want here."

"Under the guise of diplomacy," the Chief Diplomat said, his expression wintry as he remembered those first days. The excitement he had felt making first contact and how fast that had bled away once Idryn's reports began to circulate. "We cannot trust them. Not this United Federation, not the Romulans, not the Klingons."

"No we cannot," Dreyem said. "Their argument, if you think we're bad, you should see what the others will be like, is poor at best. We have seen with our own eyes how they offer peace and false words while they move secretly among us."

"Now, what's the next order of business?"

 

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