Politics

Posted on May 26, 2014 @ 9:40pm by Rawyvin Seth & Ambassador Xana Bonviva
Edited on on Jun 05, 2014 @ 8:51am

Mission: The Tangled Webs We Weave
Location: EARTH
Tags: Xana, Rawyvin, Politics, Edgerton

=/\=

“Politics”

Con’d from: “First Impressions”

=/\=



Location: EARTH

Stardate: 2.140521.1856

Scene: Starfleet Command HQ, Intelligence Directorate; Office of the Deputy Advising Director for Strategic Intelligence Planning and Coordination



His gut was clenched. Something was not right.



If there was one thing that 34 long years of service, two divorces, and countless hours of political battles had taught him, it was that he needed to trust his gut.



The exchange had happened innocently enough. It would have fit into any other ‘typical’ day of Starfleet intelligence administration. But something about his latest exchange with Admiral Edgerton bothered Admiral David Lhal.



David had sat down to his day’s work as he normally did, scanning the highlights from the latest strategic reports on the Romulans, the Klingons, the Dominion… as his eyes passed over, his hard Germanic features cracked slightly in frustration. He had entered service as an intelligence officer early on in his career, but as an analyst, rather than the much glorified operations division. As such, his promotions had been slow in coming and hard won.



And now, here he was, years later, as Deputy Advising Director for Strategic Intelligence Planning and Coordination. And as any officer knew – the longer your title, the less important you were. He sighed as he placed the PADD down and rubbed his eyes.



A buzz at his door startled him. “Enter,” he growled in his low baritone. To his surprise, in stepped Richard Edgerton. David slowly got to his feet. “Rich. This is a pleasant surprise…”



Richard waved him off. “No need to stand on formalities, Dave. We’re friends after all. You and I were classmates together, for Christ’s sake.”



David cocked his head. “It’s funny you mention that Rich… you never seemed particularly keen on stopping by before.” David raised an eyebrow in a challenge. While it was true that they had known each other for a long time, Richard Edgerton was hardly what David called a friend. Rich had always been an ambitious man, playing at politics for the sake of advancement. He had achieved the rank of Admiral at a pace that was unheard of amongst most Flag rank officers.



Edgerton seemed to nod with chagrin. “Look, Dave, I know we could be closer. But you have to know that it’s just the nature of the beast around here. You understand that, right?”



David’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “I’m beginning to,” he growled. He hated politics, and was never very good at playing the game. *And perhaps that’s how I wound up working at a job with such a long title,* he reflected. David shook his head. “To what do I owe the pleasure Rich?”



“Just a social call… well mostly,” Richard laughed. “I really have been wanting to talk to you… I understand you have been having difficulty adjusting to life here at Starfleet Command.” David said nothing, but tilted his head in a cautious affirmative. Richard nodded knowingly. “Well, look. I’m back here on Earth for good now, thanks to… well, at the request of Secretary Bonviva,” Edgerton said, somewhat gingerly. Then he shook his head with a sly grin. “Ah, but it has been a blessing in disguise.”



“Oh?”



“Of course!” Richard walked forward and clapped his shoulder. “We get to reunite once more! And I don’t forget old comrades in arms, David.” Another sly grin. “Things are happening for me.”



“They seem to quite often,” David observed evenly.



Richard game a contemplative nod. “Yes… I suppose you could say that. But I need people at my side that I trust, Dave. Not these politicking civilians, but someone of character. Someone like you.”



David raised his eyebrow, slightly off guard. “Well, Rich… I don’t know what good knowing me is going to do you, but if you need me by your side, I’ll be there.”



Richard Edgerton laughed. “I know you will be, David. And like I said – I don’t forget my friends.” He checked his chronometer. “I must run, but why don’t we do lunch tomorrow? Catch up on old times, and talk a little shop?” David was unsure of what to say, so he simply nodded. This seemed to satisfy the other man, who shook David’s hand, and walked briskly to the door. “I’ll be seeing more of you,” grinned Edgerton. And then, he departed.



*What the hell was that about?* David wondered as he stood there, staring at the now closed door.



Something was not right.



=/\=

Scene: Federation Administration Building



“Xana.”



The Human / Bolian turned to find Thoris P'Trell, the heavy set Andorian Secretary of Interplanetary Relations, approaching her, a smile on his face.



“Thoris,” she nodded in greeting, smiling at the blue-skinned man. Thoris and she worked closely together most days on matters of policy, as well as crisis that would develop amongst Federation members and potential members. While separated by species, Thoris and her had developed a close relationship with one another, especially since, as Thoris had put it – ‘It’s not easy being blue.’ “Care to come to lunch? I was just headed out for a bite to eat myself.”



“Yes, that would be… lovely,” Thoris nodded, his antennae carefully arranging themselves on his head. Xana watched them, and raised her eyebrow. There was a nuance there that did not match his words. He was… agitated? Annoyed? His facial expressions and words revealed nothing, but months of working side by side had allowed her to develop an understanding for deeper meanings to everything that the Andorian said, and failed to say.



Xana followed his cue, and took his proffered arm as they walked down the corridors of the Federation Headquarters together. “You have been busy as of late,” he chatted, nonchalantly.



“I’ve had a busy few weeks,” she returned.



They were walking towards the cafeteria when Thoris steered her towards a set of doors offset by large bay windows. Normally the large bay windows looked out onto a lovely garden that people could use for walking or eating if the weather was nice. However, with stormy gray clouds in the sky and the rain hitting the windows at a steady clip that stopped any thoughts of going outside.



Still the Andorian steered her towards the windows and Xana took the hint, sitting down on the seat by the window. Patting the spot by her, the Andorian sat next to her.



"We have Cabinet pictures soon," Thoris said.



Xana chuckled, "So I'll see you on the other side of the Cabinet."



Thoris looked at her but she could tell from the way his antennae twitched that he was bemused by her reference. Normally at Cabinet meetings they sat next to each other. But the last time they had to go through this exercise the holovidographer insisted that they sit away from each other so "the blue won't coagulate in all one place". Shaking his head he said, "You should be there for that. By myself I'd confuse the holovidographer."



The Bolian/Human frowned at that. "Where else am I going to be?"



"You have problems in your house," Thoris explained.



“House” was one of those interesting words, Xana mused. It was a universal word; almost every culture had a word (or several) that translated to house. But the meanings were different. For Bolians, it referred to which deity in the pantheon you were associated with. To Humans, it simply referred to the abode you dwelled in. Klingons used “House” more to reflect a societal organizational structure, rather than a physical one.



Nearly two years, Thoris and Xana had worked together in all manner of missions, kept each other company during various political functions, had shared more than one meal together, and spent more time together than they did with their own spouses. Yet, Xana was at a loss when it came to defining what “house” meant to her Andorian friend, or her work husband, as she overheard her staff refer to Thoris (when she wasn’t in obvious earshot).



Snapping his fingers in the air so she’d look at him, Thoris said, “I don’t know what planet you just went to but it wasn’t this one.”



“I forgot how jealous you are,” Xana drawled. “Problems in my house?” she asked returning to the topic.



When she looked at him with a white eyebrow raised, he said, "And I'm not talking about your little ones."



“Ah, that,” Xana sighed looking out the window. She got it now. Looking out the window at the rainy dreary day she thought for a moment and said, “I’m trying to clean that up. It’s proving to be a… well, trickier than anticipated.” Looking over at Thoris she asked, “Is it bothering you?”



P’Trell shook his head; his silver hair, cut shorter than most here in Paris but perfectly normal on ANDORIA, barely moving. “No I’m fine. But I think I found the root of your problem.”



“Oh? Do tell,” Xana asked leaning back against the cool windowpanes.



“So impatient,” he chided her. Nodding at some officials walking down the hall, the Andorian waited until the corridor was clear again before he said, “Jori Langor.” The Cardassian Vice President.



The azure woman with the Italian accent nodded. Crossing her legs she said, “Tell me something I don’t know.”



“Where were you 10 years ago?” Thoris asked.



“Starfleet,” Xana said simply, not bothering to explain where; she couldn’t. She may have respected and liked Thoris but she couldn’t tell him something he wasn’t supposed to know.



“I was on RISA,” Thoris said, his antennae curving in a memory.



“Why I had no idea,” Xana laughed at that. “Now there’s a story, or two, I want to hear.”



Thoris “shushed” her and then continued on, “While you were off being noble, and I was less so, they were having quite the time in the Cardassian Union,” Thoris explained.



Xana blinked; that sobered her up. “Langor,” she whispered, “isn’t high enough in the Union. It’s why he defected.”



“Shh...you know he admired the Federation for so long,” the Andorian said in mock deference. “But guess who was stationed along the border. Guess whose ship he defected to.”



The Secretary of Starfleet thought about that; she had made it her job to read up on Edgerton and she tucked away various bits of facts, including where he had served. “The USS VALHALLA,” she murmured, “with Captain Richard Edgerton in the big seat.” She stole a glance at Thoris who said nothing, his silence acting as affirmation.



She knew Vice President Jori Langor had some kind of relationship with Edgerton; lunch at Versailles made that clear. What she hadn’t know was this -- that it wasn’t just a friendship of political expediency, but it went for much longer.



And that made it all the more entrenched and dangerous. Realizing she was fighting off two attacks -- Edgerton, and Langor who could protect him (and might very well be doing so) -- suddenly changed the landscape.



“Thank you,” Xana murmured. Standing up she said, “Come on, we were off to lunch.” When Thoris stood up, she resumed tucking her arm into his and as they walked she said, “Now tell me a story about RISA.”



=/\=

Scene: Trinitas School - Venice Italy



To get into the one-story beige brick building, Xana had to enter in a secure code she picked and then proceed past the low fishpond in the atrium to a desk where she entered in another code and passed a biometric scanner.



“Good Afternoon, Secretary Bonviva,” the receptionist said.



“Afternoon,” she smiled. Then she walked down to the left, past wide windows peeking into rooms and doors that would have lead into those rooms. Instead she went to the last room on the right, just before the doors out to the private playground. She peeked in the window and saw a classroom, where approximately 20 preschoolers were sitting at different tables all doing different activities. Some were coloring, others were practicing their numbers and letters, and some were off doing other lessons. Teachers and aides walked around assisting children who needed help, or offering gentle encouragement or re-direction.



But in this class...Benito wasn’t here when he should have been.



Sighing, Xana turned around and walked back down the quiet hallway to the gym. She peeked in another window and saw lots of kids doing exercises, but none were her son. So she kept walking to cafeteria. The brightly colored room with its high and low chairs around different tables was inviting, especially if you were an impatient child who just wanted food.



But no Benito still.



Changing directions, she went down another corridor, towards Dahlia’s classroom. Sometimes if Benito wasn’t feeling like himself, the teachers would let him go see Dahlia. So down another hallway, past more classrooms, to her 9 year old’s classroom. Same setup as Benito’s classroom but the tables here were bigger, and obviously the lessons more complex.



She peeked in through the window and saw all of Dahlia’s friends doing their lessons. But no Dahlia or Benito for that matter. At this point she knew she hadn’t seen Dahlia in the gymnasium or cafeteria, so what had begun as mild annoyance at not finding her son turned into full blown panic in not being able to find either child.



“Secretary Bonviva, what an unexpected surprise,” came a voice from behind her.



Xana whipped around to see a man walking towards her. “Signoro Mancini,” she said to the principal. Cutting to the chase she asked, “Where are my children? I can’t find them anywhere.”



The principal gave her a look. “Your friend picked them up earlier. He passed all the scans…”



“What friend? I didn’t authorize anyone outside my family, or Security detail, to pick up the children,” she pointed out.



“I don’t recall his name now that you ask,” the principal said apologetically. “But he was about your height, dark hair to his shoulders, very serious. A little frightening to one of the children who was in the atrium when he came; I think it was those unusual teeth of his...”



Xana bolted out of the school at that.



=/\=

Scene: Xana’s Home



Fear coursed through her veins like ice, which melted against the red-hot rage she felt at that moment as she burst through the door of her apartment. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. *BENITO! DAHLIA!* She wordlessly called with a special sense of fear that only a mother could feel when her babies were threatened.



She froze. In her silence, she heard it. Singing. “Oh dear! What can the matter be? Dear, dear! What can the matter be? Oh, dear! What can the matter be? Xana's so long at the fair!” A merry tune was playing upon her piano, and she could hear the giggling of her children as the song played.



Her pulse racing, she raced to her living room, to find her children sitting at the couch, giggling as Rawyvin Seth sat there, serenading them at the piano.



“She promised she'd buy me a fairing should please me, and then for a kiss, oh! she vowed she would tease me, she promised she'd bring me a bunch of blue ribbons, to tie up her bonny white hair!” As Rawyvin finished this last line, he seemed to take notice of her, and finished his song with a thrill on the keys, much to the delight of her children. They giggled with delight at his inclusion of their mother into the song. And then, they noticed her too.



“Mommy!” Benito ran to her with a grin and a hug. Dahlia didn’t approach, but sat back coolly, as if she expected at any minute for her mother to ruin the fun that they had been having.



Relief flooded her system to see her children safe; the weakness seemed to extend to her knees as she wobbled unsteadily, embracing Benito as if she had not seen him in ages. Releasing him abruptly, she kissed him, and embraced him all over again. “Moooom!” He squealed and squirmed.



Rawyvin seemed to watch the scene passively. He turned his silvery eyes to Dahlia, and tilted his head at her. “Dahlia, my love, won’t you say hello to your mother? I am sure she missed you.”



Dahlia seemed recalcitrant, but complied. “Hi mom,” she said simply.



Xana’s head was spinning. This was all too much. She held Benito at arm’s length, looking him over. “Honey, mommy has to talk business for a little bit ok? Why don’t you run upstairs and play?” Benito looked hesitantly over at Dahlia. Xana fixed her with an imploring glance. “Please take your brother upstairs? I have to…”

“Talk business. I know,” Dahlia said coolly. “It’s always business.” Her tone was almost reproachful.



Xana’s mouth hung open at Dahlia’s attitude. And then to her surprise, Rawyvin spoke. “Dahlia, that is no way to speak to your mother,” he scolded her lightly. “I am sorry that I must be so horrible as to take up your time with her, so blame me if you must,” His tone was light and mocking. To Xana’s amazement, her daughter smiled. “I promise I won’t keep your mother long.” Rawyvin continued soothingly. He raised a finger. “Now… I would see you apologize to your mother.”



Chagrined, Dahlia mumbled an apology. Xana was too stunned to speak for a moment. Finally, she managed to choke out - “Dahlia, please take your brother upstairs. I’ll be there momentarily.”



Dahlia complied with no further argument. She smiled at Rawyvin. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Seth.”



Rawyvin gave her a deep bow, “The pleasure was mine, fiore mio,” he grinned. She giggled, and accompanied her brother from the room.



Xana closed the doors behind them and drew a deep breath. Slowly, her relief melted, as fury filled her now trembling body.



“Such beautiful and delightful children, Xana,” Rawyvin commented behind her. He had drawn closer in the intervening moments.



An instant later, she had spun on her heals and had slapped him hard across the face. “Mangi merda e mouri, pezzettino merda!” She spat, in full fury. “You ever come close to my children again, you… bastardo!” She slapped him again. “Spintone le palle e nutrirli per il culo, figlio di puttana!” She went to slap him again.



This time, he caught her arm in mid swing, immobilizing it there in a vice like grip. “Calmati, bellissima.” He returned, unruffled by her attack. “That is no way for a lady to speak… or behave.”



“What do you want, segaiolo?” She spat, tearing away from his grip.



Rawyvin drew a theatrical look of hurt. “My dear. Is this the way you treat me, after I was so kind as to bring your children home…”



“You stay away from my family,” she growled dangerously. “Or, I swear to the gods above, I will hunt you down and kill you without a moment’s hesitation.”



Rawyvin gave an exasperated sigh. “Xana, Xana, Xana… you really do believe all those lies about me, don’t you…” he turned dramatically away, walking a few paces, before turning back. “My darling, I would never harm your children, so innocent as they are,” he said soothingly. He raised a finger. “I wouldn’t. Others do not share my… morality.”



The words hung in the air. For the second time that day, Xana found herself being conveyed a message without being told outright what the message was. A frown creased her face as she considered Rawyvin’s words. He gazed at her coolly, waiting for her to understand his words.



Slowly, that understanding dawned. Thoris’ hidden message earlier that day… and now this.



She was playing a high stakes game, and only now was she discovering the dangers that were awaiting her around every corner. She stared at Rawyvin in amazement. Had she been so wrong about the man? Had he… was there a danger that he had prevented for her that day?



“Your daughter seems quite adamant to see her step father,” Rawyvin observed. “I know it would be rough letting her and your son go, but perhaps they do need their father right now. I am sure he will keep them safe, whatever dangers come.” His vague, indirect manner could not have been clearer.



*Get your children to safety. NOW.*



Xana could only stare.



Abruptly, Rawyvin gave her a courteous bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me… you’ve had an interesting afternoon. I understand that you have an endorsement coming up… I will leave you to do some thinking.” He began to stride out of the living room.



“Wait…” she stepped forward, stopping him as he reached the side door. “What… Why… What are you playing at? What do you want from me?” Xana was a nervous wreck; confused, angry and scared.



Rawyvin smiled seductively. “My dear, if you have to ask, you are simply not ready to deal.” With that, he stepped outside, and disappeared into the dying day.



She stood there for several minutes trembling.



Then, like a time delayed explosive, some of Rawyvin’s parting words hit her. “What endorsement?”



=/\=

Scene: Edgerton’s office



Edgerton was reading a PADD when he noticed the message waiting for him in his inbox. Scrolling over to it, he could see that the sender was unidentified - but it was quite clear who had sent it.



[[I feel like you don’t trust me Edgerton.]]



The Admiral frowned. He typed back hastily. [[You weren’t suppose to interfere.]]



[[As I recall, you gave *me* the assignment, to do in *my* way.]]



He paused. And then, another flurried response. [[I will not tolerate being questioned by the likes of you. You do what I tell you to do from now on, understand?]]



Edgerton waited. The response was long in coming. The Admiral frowned, and began composed another message - [[Acknowledge.]] Another pause. Again, Edgerton typed. [[Acknowledge, Damn it.]] He pushed send.



A moment later, his PADD. [[Error - invalid destination.]]



=/\=

Scene: Xana’s office

Time Index: The following day



“Ma’am, Secretary P’Trell is on his way,” John said sticking his head into her office.



Looking at the PADD she was reading she nodded, “Well that took longer than I anticipated. Clear my schedule. This will be a while.” She had not moved for well over an hour, having kicked off her shoes and propping her feet up on her desk. Xana paused a moment while puzzling over something she was reading before saying, “John, please be sure to let him in. I doubt he’ll be in a mood to deal with the staff.”



John Hiram’s dark eyebrows slid up at that but he said nothing as he backed out of the door.



Within moments, Thoris P’Trell came walking into her office. If Xana blistered ears, and caused people to duck by throwing things before calming down, Thoris was her antithesis. Standing before her desk, his face colder than a winter’s day on ANDORIA. He said nothing at first, simply frowning at her while crossing his arms across his chest.



Xana kept reading the PADD in her hands.



Thoris did nothing, his antennae curled back in a move that the Secretary of Starfleet thought akin to curling one’s hands into fists.



After sparing a glance to her friend, whose anger was practically radiating through the eggplant tunic and black pants he had on, Xana went back to reading.



The span of several minutes passed like this before Thoris spoke in a low voice, “Are you trying to goad me, Xana?”



Finally, mercifully, the Human/Bolian put down the PADD that had her captivated. Looking up she said, “No.”



Thoris stalked around to the side of the desk. Leaning over, he placed one arm on either side of the chair she was sitting and warned her, “You’re doing an excellent impression of someone trying to goad me.”



“Nope,” she replied, completely relaxed. She opened her mouth to say something when Thoris’ suddenly pivoted and with a sweeping motion knocked over everything on her desk with a broad stroke of his arm. PADDs and her tea cup went flying across the room, crashing to the floor with a spectacular sound. Then his left arm went flying in the other direction and knocked over her pictures that she had placed; some pictures were in frames that cracked as they hit the wall before landing on the floor but others were holographs whose pictured flickered off as they bounced and their bases cracked.



At this point, Angus, Xana’s beloved old dog, shifted away from the desk where he usually sat and slowly walked over to his mistress. Reaching out to pet the docile Rottweiler/German Shepard, who was nudging her for affection, she said, “I draw the line at you hurting my dog.”



“The dog?” Thoris asked incredulously.



Xana nodded this time her face was firm. “Angus has been a faithful companion. Hell, he’s probably my longest adult relationship. So yes, you hurt him I will definitely be upset.” Shrugging she said, “Come after me all you want, but not him.”



That shook the Andorian out of his righteous anger. “The dog?!” he asked. When Xana nodded at that, he kept shaking his head as if his ears were blocked by cotton and didn’t hear her. “THE DOG?!”



Xana simply glared at him. Thoris had excellent hearing; she knew he heard her. His antennae danced furiously for a long moment, but suddenly settled, calmly. “I’m not coming after you.” Thoris’ control was back. Still leaning over her, he took a deep breath before saying, “You knew what you were doing.”



“Yes,” Xana nodded.



Thoris exhaled and walked away from the azure woman, instead picking her couch that was across the room. Rubbing his brow he asked, “You knew that pulling Rawyvin Seth’s records would alert me. It would start me inquiring if we need to re-convene that circus. Why are we going through this again?”



Xana held up a hand at that. “No reconvening necessary.” When Thoris glared at her she said, “Call it…” here she waved her hands around as if she could actually pull the right words from thin air, “call it...a curiosity.”



That’s exactly what it was. She combed through the records looking at Rawyvin’s more...interesting deeds. There was a misnomer if she ever heard it. Seth was merciless, cold, and calculating. There was no respect for life, or rules, or anything. She had problems finding a commonality amongst his victims, or even his methods. However, she was looking for something specific and found it, or more accurately didn’t find it:



But he had never hurt a child. In the long list of his misdeeds and criminal acts, never once had he ever hurt a child. It may not have sounded like a lot but it did a little to ease yesterday’s fears. Not that she was about to nominate Rawyvin for babysitter-of-the-year.



“A curiosity?” Thoris furrowed his eyebrows at that, as if he was trying to puzzle out what she was doing.



The computer, which was on the floor, beeped. “Mind helping me out here?” Xana asked sweetly. Thoris grunted at that but, with an effort, he got up from his seat and plunked down the computer on her desk. “We’ll get back to this,” he warned as he went back to his seat on the couch.



She scanned the computer screen, and then sat up and swung her legs down off the desk as she read the communication with interest. “Vecchio schifoso,” she yelled. Finding a shoe nearby she flung it across the room; Angus, who was too old to play fetch, yawned at that. Xana had not waited long to find out what endorsement Rawyvin had been speaking of.



She had been outmaneuvered.



=/\=

NRPG: Black out stage, and a big music up-swell as the curtain falls: INTERMISSION!



FROM CHRIS: This posts introduces two new characters; I’m considering Admiral Lhal a pNPC for now, with Thoris P’Trell a PC. I will post up bios soon.



=/\=

Sarah Albertini-Bond

as

Xana Bonviva

Secretary to Starfleet



WITH



Christopher B. Del Gesso

as

Admiral David Lhal

Deputy Advising Director for Strategic Intelligence Planning and Coordination



AND

Thoris P'Trell

Secretary, Interplanetary Relations



AND

Rawyvin Seth