It's coming along slowly, but it is coming...
---------------
“They were quite unhappy.” Ran’jar declared.
“I’d imagine so.” La’ra replied. They stood in the small armory off the main transporter room.
“Their executive officer was expecting battle.” The First continued, removing the power pack from his rifle and stowing it in its assigned locker. “I am not sure who he wished to kill more by the time we departed. Us or his ‘allies’.”
“Either would have done, probably.” Said La’ra.
“In any case, he wished to assure us that his fair captain would take measures to halt any further activities.” Ran’jar unsealed his combat armor, placed it in the appropriate locker. He also grumbled that advising them of the actions of rogue elements of the Rebel military might’ve allowed them to halt the activity without any bloodshed.”
La’ra snorted. Ran’jar pulled on his regular uniform.
“He said what he’d been ordered to say.”
“Yes.” Ran’jar agreed.
“They’re expecting us to attempt a dialogue.” La’ra grumbled. He leaned against a row of lockers. “To negotiate here and now.”
“I’d expect so.” The First agreed.
“And their Captain has not yet deigned to speak with us directly…he’s obstinate…” The Commander considered for a few moments. “He plans on stalling. If we were to speak with him, he would act giving but concede nothing. He would try to maintain the stalemate.”
“You’re considering trying to deal with him?” Ran’jar asked.
“No. Our original plan is better. But if I thought he were a certain kind of man…” The armory door slid open. The grey-haired ship’s surgeon ambled in.
“Doctor.” La’ra greeted.
“I’ve checked the rest of the assault team.” Ker’lan grumbled and looked at Ran’jar. “But not you.”
Ran’jar nodded, turned toward the doctor and stood quite still. Ker’lan scanned him with one of his devices.
“You’re clean.” The surgeon declared. He turned toward the Commander. “I have heard of your plan. I wished to voice a thought, if I may.”
“Of course.” Said La’ra.
“If your goal is to show the Rebels as the more offensive of the contending groups…” The doctor began. His words were stiff, rehearsed. “..perhaps you should try to restrain the side we favor from any more unfortunate actions. The Federation may insist that neutral parties look into the situation, and if so…”
“…it would be better to present them with a prettier picture than the Rebels can.” La’ra finished.
“Yes.” The surgeon confirmed.
“You’re correct.” La’ra nodded. “I will consider your suggestion.”
The Doctor nodded once, stiffly, and left the room.
“The transporter technician completed your medical scan.” La’ra stated.
“Yes.” Ran’jar replied. “Our doctor has his own pet causes, I’d suppose.”
“Naturally.” La’ra rubbed his temple. “But he’s right.”
“Right because it will give us an advantage or right in that we should use to opportunity to restrain Heartreaver from any more atrocities?” Ran’jar had that testing look in his eyes. La’ra smiled.
“Both.”
“I always knew you were softer than you let on.” Ran’jar snorted. There was an odd quality to the noise. A concealed chuckle perhaps.
“You find her actions honorable?” La’ra asked, tone serious.
The First Officer regarded him coldly, and shrugged in a most uncharacteristic fashion.
“No.” He said. “I do not.”
Topic: Fragile Ideals (Read 20780 times)