"Dark Paths" - Part 2 - Admiral James Valtren, SFI and Captain Taverain Ramius

Posted on 241509.01 @ 10:44am by Commodore Sebastian Ascari

Mission: Reconciliation & Reconstruction [Fleet Plot]
Location: San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: Current

(Continued from Part 1)

Valtren stared down his arm and across the tip of his phaser which was pointed at the dark figure sitting at his desk. “Are you trying to put me into an early grave”, the angered admiral shouted lowering his weapon. “How the did you get in here? No wait don’t tell me I don’t want to know.”

“Nice to see you too…old man.”

“Get the hell out of my chair”, the admiral barked tossing his padd and his phaser on a nearby table. The figure stood as the light slowly washed over his face revealing his silvery blue and mischievous eyes.

Valtren made his way passed his desk and opened a cabinet behind him grabbing a glass and a bottle. He did need that evening nightcap after all.

“What? None for me?”

“Don’t push it Taverain. I’m not in the mood.” He poured himself a glass before returning the bottle to the cupboard behind him. Taking a seat in a warmed chair the admiral took a sip of his whiskey keeping his eyes fixed upon the man before him.

Captain Taverain Ramius. How quickly time passed. It seemed like only yesterday that the man before him now came barely to his waist. How he had grown since that tragic event. Taverain lost his family and Valtren lost valuable and cherished friends. Ever since that day he had raised that small, frightened child like a son. Taverain’s father had pleaded with him, asked him, to watch over the boy just moments before his end. How could he refused the dying wish of a best friend who had met his fate defending his family from harm?

Adhering to his friend’s last request was easier said than done. Taverain was rebellious in youth, stubborn, headstrong, and grew more and more like his father with each passing day. A pity he couldn’t see what his boy had become over the years. He knew his friend would be proud even if the two of them rarely saw eye to eye on matters. Although he had raised Taverain from a boy to a man he was as trying as ever. Not even Admiral’s bars caused him to show any respect. Sometimes he wondered if he was simply beyond hope just as his father had been with an annoying sense of humor, a total disregard of authority, and an impish nature that one loved to hate.

He was so much like his father. A father he hardly knew and who had gone far, far before his time.

“Well are you just going to sit there all night and stare at me”, Ramius asked folding his arms.

“I might if it suits me”, came the harsh reply. “I do happen to out rank you.”

“For now at least”, Ramius responded. “I’m rather fond of that chair.”

Valtren took another sip of his drink if only to hide a smirk. Damn he was impetuous and brazen tonight. The two pricked each other with barbed comments and had so for years. It was in a sense something the both enjoyed – jousting with one another. Neither of them were ones to show much emotion or wear it openly. In the end their often cool relationship with Valtren as guardian and Taverain his charge was the closest either of them could get to anything more. Behind each man’s eyes was something deeper but neither could bring themselves to say or fully express what that was. It was communicated silently through irritating quips, barbed comments, and endless jabs. Some would call such a relationship terrible and unhealthy, but for them, after everything that had happened, it worked.

“I’ve got news for you. You aren’t getting this chair anytime soon. And in any event you wouldn’t want what comes with it.”

“No…you’re probably right there”, Ramius stated.

“It’s late, I’m tired. Can we simply get to the matter of why you’re here and why you decided to sneak into my office and scare the hell out of me?”

“That much should be obvious or are you losing your intelligence edge as well old man?”

“Stop calling me old man”, Valtren barked. “And no I don’t have to guess what brings you here. Besides trying to lay your hands on my whiskey which you won’t find here any longer since you absconded with an entire case of it I believe I can ascertain why you have graced me with your presence.”

“I only borrowed it for important diplomatic purposes. It was a noble cause.”

“And how many women does it take to equal a noble cause…hmm?”

“I have no idea what you are insinuating Admiral. As a captain in this Starfleet I hold myself and my crew to the highest standards.”

Valtren nearly choked on his drink.

“That’s a laugh”, he stated clearing his throat as the whisky burned going down.

“Well we could go on all night like this, but let’s just cut to the chase. You’re here to talk about the Romulans am I right?”

“So I guess you aren’t as slow as I was afraid you had become.”

“Funny. So let’s talk Taverain. What’s on your mind?”

“Oh I don’t know…a Romulan flotilla approaching the SOL system for starters.”

“What do you want me to do about that? Call them up and ask them politely to turn around? There aren’t too many things beyond my reach, but that would be one of them.”

“I want to know what Starfleet intends to do?”

“Do? We aren’t going to do anything other than remain vigilant before, during, and after the Romulan visit.”

“Figures. This stinks. You do smell it don’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten so old that you cannot smell the stench of treachery in the air?”

“No. I’m not old enough just jet to have lost my sense of smell. What I am too old for is a complete lack of respect on your part, but we’ll save that tired old debate for another time. Of course the situation reeks of Romulan duplicity. The visit is far too sudden, far too unusual, and about as plausible as peace with the Borg. However, there’s nothing you or I can do to stop the cogs that have been set in motion. All we can do is quietly observe while the diplomats handle this one.”

“Diplomats”, Ramius scoffed. “What do they know of matters? The majority of them are tripping over one another to see which can be the first to wash the Praetor’s feet. It’s revolting quite frankly. I have nothing against peace talks, but there’s a stench in the air that I cannot ignore.

“I agree that there are too many of our diplomats that are salivating at the opportunity for dialog with the empire and the prospect of peaceful relations however gilded they may be, but they are not all sold on this Romulan golden goose. The pragmatic and seasoned diplomats are also skeptical. They recognize that there is some risk, but the potential benefits of successful talks with the Romluans are too alluring for most to ignore. If some sort of an accord could be reached?

“Bah. The Romulans wouldn’t agree to anything of the sort. And even if they did they would violate the terms on technicalities whenever it suited their purposes. They do it now and have done so for years. How many incursions have there been into Federation space followed by appropriate excuses and platitudes. The Federation in this instance if we follow things to their logical conclusion, not wanting to damage their new found peace agreements, wouldn’t lift a finger and you know it! The idea of peace is nothing more than a fantasy.”

“Sadly, you may be correct but those matters are well beyond our purview or pay grade.”

Ramius huffed throwing his hands at his sides moving to the Admiral’s windows. He looked out into the dark of night for a time.

“Why are we humans so ready and willing to accept the prospect of peace? We do so again and again even when the peace we crave is wrapped up in a foul and unpalatable package that any sane person would discard. We always strive to find something that doesn’t exist and we pay a high price for it, usually in blood, each and every time we are enchanted by these grand allusions…no delusions of peace in our time.” The captain sighed. “Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if only for an instant if what we do is worth it.”

“Never doubt that Tav”, the admiral firmly stated. “If we didn’t carry a sword and take on the harsh burdens we signed up for then who would? What would the universe or humanity be like without people like us?”

“I shudder to think. Which is why I am here. We’re just going to let the Romulan’s waltz into the Sol system for these….talks.”

“Affirmative captain.”

“Madness. This is like asking the Breen over for a spot of tea and crumpets. What’s next? Peace talks with the Borg?”

“Well there has to be something to keep the diplomats busy? I for one do not believe I would mind if they were actually able to put me out of a job.”

“You don’t mean that. You would go mad with boredom.”

“Probably, but that would be a small price to pay for peace in our time would it not? The ideal is noble as is the inexorable struggle to achieve the unachievable. It’s what we are. Don’t tell me your unique qualities are giving you some sort of superiority complex.”

“Superiority? What I have flowing through me isn’t superior. It’s a curse. It’s brought both of us nothing but pain and tragedy. It does however give one a unique perspective on occasion; a perspective I’ve come to value. Superiority complex? You’re likely to outlive me old man. It’s just a matter of time before this curse catches up to me and finishes what was started.”

“You have a ship’s counselor Taverain. Why are you here in my office at this hour? If you want to talk about philosophy among other things why don’t you schedule an appointment with them?”

“Because they aren’t nearly as fun to talk to and I can’t discuss classified matters with them now can I?”

“Maybe I just need to assign you a counselor with security clearance if it keeps you from barging into my office in the middle of the night!”

“Only if she’s cute.”

“Oh brother”, the admiral murmured rolling his eyes. He hated it when Taverain was in one of these moods. He took another sip of his drink wondering if a single glass would be enough given the course of this discussion.

“Why don’t we wrap this up? I have an early start tomorrow. The Romulans are coming. Deal with it.”

Ramius arched an eyebrow. “That’s it? Deal with it?”

“Unless you have some other topic you have a need to discuss?”

Ramius grit his teeth. Why did Valtren always have to be so logical and cool? Was there any emotional fire in the man’s heart? Sometimes he wondered if he had any feelings at all.

“Let me be as basic as possible. Romulan fleet. Romulan ships. Romulans in Earth orbit. Important Romulans on Earth. What part of that doesn’t scream Red Alert?”

“Well Admiral Ramius – you seem to have a solid understanding of the situation. What would you do in my position? Well? Would you ask them to turn around? Fire upon them? Turn a historic meeting into a rallying cry for war on both sides?”

“No, but we can’t just sit here and do nothing. We need….I need to do…something! We both realize that this olive branch isn’t what it appears to be.”

“The Romulans most certainly have something to gain with this encounter however until we determine what that is we cannot take any action. If you’re concerned about them scanning our defenses and security they likely have thousands of merchants and travelers who can obtain far richer information quietly and discreetly just like we have on Romulus. The security risks are minimal.”

“What if this goes sideways? Are there contingencies? Has anyone thought about an outcome that doesn’t end with the Federation council and the Romulan delegation exchanging sloppy, wet kisses at the conclusion of these talks like teenagers in love who can’t keep their hands off one another?

The admiral cracked a tiny grin at the crude characterization.

“There has been some discussion on that topic.”

“Well? Is that all you big shots do these days is talk?”

Valtren’s smile faded at the captain’s stinging words. “We also think and issue orders and occasionally we do our jobs when we feel up to it here behind our desks.” He wasn’t about to let that barb slide without a response.

“I want you to take the Corsair to Venus and wait until the talks have concluded and the Romulans depart. That’s far enough away to avoid Romulan attention and close enough to be useful should something unexpected occur. As usual, you’re a trump card to be played if and when needed. Any questions captain? You can sit this one out and have a little extra time to contemplate the virtues of peace. The Romulans respect power and I doubt they will do anything rash in this situation. Rash actions aren’t their modus operandi. The fact that they may have been planning this for months or years is what scares me. Whatever they have up their sleeves you can be sure it is not half baked.

Our best people are on this one Taverain. Right now all we can do is listen, watch, and wait.”

“You know I don’t do waiting well.”

“No. You’re just like your father. He never could wait either. Patience was not one of his virtues.”

Ramius glanced at the Admiral with a curious gaze as his father was mentioned. It was something they seldom discussed.

“Very well. I’ll be in Venusian orbit if you need me. We’ll take some scans for you just in case there’s any suspicious activity on the surface.”

“You just can’t resist can you? Could we have a civil discussion for once sometime?”

“Where would the fun in that be”, Ramius answered with a shrug.

Valtren shook his head. Why he had allowed Taverain Ramius to be promoted to anything beyond ship’s comedian was beyond him.

“Check your cupboard. I think you’ll find it restocked”, Ramius stated adjusting his uniform tunic. “Guess I’m off to Venus. Try not to drink too much Romulan Ale in the coming days. It’ll give you a nasty hangover. Ask for the…Rhennish I believe they call it. It’s far more refined than that blue rotgut.”

“I don’t believe members of Starfleet Intelligence will be invited to any social events.”

“Who said anything about intelligence? We both know you’ll be there be it as an admiral or a butler, which would suit you well actually, but even so just take care and watch that back of yours. It’s good to know that despite your advanced years you can still pull a phaser with some degree of rapidity. Let’s just hope you don’t have to use it.”

“Here’s to hoping”, Valtren dryly stated raising his glass to the captain. A compliment, however sharp, was still a compliment.

“Good evening Taverain.”

“Jolantru Admiral”, Ramius quipped as he made his way out of the office.

Valtren swallowed the last of his whisky. That boy…no that man knew how to push his buttons so well.

He turned and reopened his cabinet. Opening a cupboard where he stored his finer spirits he noticed it had been restocked. He reached inside and withdrew a bottle. It seemed his had an entire case of genuine Kentucky bourbon and of a better year and vintage than the one Ramius had borrowed. At least Ramius had some modicum of manners. The man always repaid his debts.

He was about the close the cabinet when he noticed something behind one of the bottles. He pulled it loose surprised when it turned out to be a sheet of folded paper. Opening the paper he peered down upon text that was hand written in Ramius’s handwriting.

He read the note several times until a drop of water splashed against the paper quickly leaving a wet stain upon the page. Valtren looked up and silently rubbed his eye. He carefully folded the paper and placed it inside his desk.

Perhaps he had raised that boy right in place of a father he had scarcely known. It was a job he had neither asked for nor anticipated and yet had accepted without question. Despite the friction between them he could say he was proud of Ramius. He knew his father would have been proud of the man he had become as well.

The admiral genuinely smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. Emotion wasn’t something he showed being a liability in his line of work. Seldom did something positive break through his tough exterior shell. He took a seat and leaned back. If he had chosen to have a family and had been granted a son…he couldn’t think of a better one than the man who had just left his office.


~ FIN ~

================================

Admiral James Valtren
Starfleet Intelligence
Division 7

and

Captain Taverain Ramius
USS Corsair, SFI