IRW Devoras, Stardate 21375.2
Nash ka'Sharren blinks as the motes of exotic energy flutter and disperse around her, leaving her on a Romulan transport pad. She gives the area a quick look-around. It is her first time on a Romulan vessel after all. Well, at least as far as the Romulans know; there was that incident at Canbor VI... Everything in the room is a shade of dark green. Nash supposes it ought to be a comforting colour, but something about the shade lends everything almost as much menace as the blood-red and cold steel of Klingon designs.
The officer behind the transporter controls eyes the Starfleet captain suspiciously, and when the doors to the transporter open to admit a security officer, his look is no less suspicious.
"Captain ka'Sharren, you are early for the meeting," the security officer says in clipped tones.
"Commander Velin asked me to come aboard early for a discussion," replies Nash.
"I was not informed of this," replies the security officer. "Wait here." He steps outside, but returns swiftly. "It seems you are right, but you are early even for that."
Nash shrugs at that. "Commander Velin just said come early."
A dark and probing look comes over the security officer, and Nash bites back comments about over-paranoid Romulans. "Very well," the Romulan says. "Follow me."
A trip through a maze of emerald corridors follows, broken up by a long turbolift trip. By time that they arrive at their destination, Nash is beginning to wonder if the good Commander is showing off the size of the Heavy Warbird, which has slightly more mass behind it than the Excelsiors. Even if the Excelsior is still a better designed, more balanced ship. And really, cloaks are just ways to get into more trouble, and space already provides plenty of those.
The security officer stops by a door marked Exercise Room and hit an intercom button beside it. "Commander, the Federation Captain is here." The door opens moments later and the security officer ushers you within.
Inside Nash finds a room that appears rather out of place, with wooden walls and a firm but springy matting underneath. It takes her a few moments to realise that there was holographic technology at play, and wonders if this is something the Xyrillians sold to the Romulans. There were moves afoot in the Federation to be able to make something much more comprehensive in the future, but this seems pretty close to state of the art. It doesn't have the proper smell, but the look and feel is just like a training hall, high in the mountains away from civilisation.
Commander Velin and another Romulan officer that Nash doesn't recognise are present, the normal grey patterned uniforms eschewed for sleeveless green shirts and loosely fitted pants. A ceremonial looking sword is held by each woman. Velin has a thin sheen of sweat as she stretches, then turns to her comrade. "That will be all, Sub-Commander, return to your duties."
"Yes, Commander."
Nash steps aside to allow the officer to depart, then cocks an eyebrow at the Commander.
"That is an almost Romulan looking gesture," muses Velin. "Many would doubt that civilisation can truly be taught, but I guess you're full of surprises."
"Romulan civilised? No fear of that, Commander," replies Nash. "I could spend my whole life dedicated to it and still not end up half as paranoid as that."
Velin smirks at that and points to a sword resting on a rack. "They're holographic," she says, and demonstrates by striking her palm with the edge of her own weapon. A loud 'brrzt' sound echoes in the room.
Nash laughs as she pulls the weapon from the rack. "I should warn you, Commander, as an Andorian I practice for Ushaan. You may find me a far more dangerous opponent than you expected."
A human would have missed it, but Nash is just able to discern a muttered, "I already have," from Commander Velin.
"So what did you want me here to discuss?" asks Nash as she places the sword back on the wrack and strips off the cumbersome overcoat of her uniform, leaving her with a white undershirt.
"After the debacle at Ithrid II, my warbird and your Type-E are the only battlecruisers-"
"Explorers."
"-in the fleet," continues Velin. "I want to make sure we're on the same page."
Nash steps out onto the practice mat, taking a few swings to get the feel for the weapon. "As far as I understand it, the Enterprise is here to use its sensors for early-warning. Wow, you actually feel the weight behind this sword."
"Clever use of force fields and transporter technology," says Velin offhandedly. "And we may need your phasers now that we've lost the Admiral's disruptors a lot more."
"We'll do our part in a fight." Nash grins wickedly as she settles into a stance. "No one can say that any Enterprise would ever run from a scrap."
The two ship masters come together in a blaze of steel, the sound of the weapons coming through pure and sweet. The weapons tie up in a bind and Velin's leg crashes through behind Nash, who tumbles to the mat. A desperate roll backwards spares her a quick end to the fight, Velin's weapon thrusting into the mat where Nash landed. The two foes begin to circle warily after that.
"The new Admiral is considering using the Enterprise as a flagship," says Velin. "Access to the sensors and quicker coordination with Starfleet."
Nash snorts. A Romulan Admiral on her bridge? That'll be the day. "I may have to run that one through Starfleet Command, there are regulations there."
"Of course."
"Sounds dangerous, though," continues Nash. "Your Admirals sound accident prone."
"You can't reach Admiral without a keen sense of duty."
"More like a lucky streak."
Velin's brow raises again. "If luck is all it takes, your promotion should come through any day now."
"Hey, my ship runs on skill and talented junior officers, not luck," protests Nash. "Well, maybe a bit of luck, too, but..."
Nash abruptly slashes in on the attack, nearly catching Velin off-guard. But in a four-blow exchange the buzzer sounds when Velin's strike catches her across the wrist. "Damnation," mutters Nash as she steps back.
Velin's face splits into a predatory grin. "You'll need more than luck here."
"Heh. So, are we just going to camp here in Alepsis II orbit? It is the last Romulan colony in the quarantine zone, after all," asks Nash. "I appreciate the peace and quiet we've had last month, but I'm pretty sure we can't simply rest."
"That's undecided. We'd like to evacuate here, too, but if the Federation can keep their evacuation plans ongoing, soon we can have our Vulcan kin in Solitude, plus the million colonists of Alepsis II as the last places to defend, then we can sweep up along the Neutral Zone and burn the Inflictor away." After a moment, Velin shrugs. "Or our scouting forces can turn up the Inflictor early and we go counter attack. This constant defence is unbecoming."
With that the Commander attacks again, thrusting in a blow only barely turned aside. They bind after another exchange, and Velin again tries to sweep Nash, but the Andorian hooks her foe's foot and grabs a hold of her shirt. Falling backwards, she throws the Commander across the room. Nash is on her feet and lunging as Velin scrambles to regain her footing. A loud buzzer sounds again, the holographic sword sweeping right through Velin's neck, leaving no external mark. Velin looks up with wide, startled eyes.
The door opens to readmit the Sub-Commander from earlier, now back in uniform. "Commander, it's time to prepare for the ... uh..."
Nash grins at the startled Sub-Commander and walks to the weapon rack. "Don't underestimate Andorians." She then feels the lightest of breezes, and then a tap as Velin's lays the flat of her sword on Nash's shoulder.
"Point. And don't turn your back on an armed Romulan."
"Point."
Velin sighs and walks past Nash to place her weapon the rack. "Computer, End Simulation. Can't believe you decapitated me."
"Hey, there's a club for people who have lost to the Enterprise and its captains but can't believe it," informs Nash as she stretches. "It's called the Beta Quadrant, and it meets at the bar."
Velin picks the weapon up off the rack again. "Actually, one more round. I'm going to make you eat those words."
Nash just grins.
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Romulans scouting Neutral Zone Area 2.
Quarantine Fleet has taken position in orbit around the remaining colony world, Alepsis II.
Damaged Heavy Warbird is set for 12 months repair.
Romulan High Command currently debating whether to go through with a very difficult evacuation order for the colony.
