Michael waited outside the apartment suite of the Truellian family delegation, calming his breathing before pressing the doorbell. Meeting with grieving families was never a job any officer looked forward to, least of all if they didn’t even know the officer in question. At least this wasn’t the initial declaration, not that the situation was any less messy. A few moments passed, and an elderly Rigelian male in black silk attire answered the door. Michael immediately kicked in his empathic senses to assess the climate within.
[Relief, Apathy]
“Good morning, Captain. Our lady has been expecting your arrival. Please, come in.” The elderly valet spoke, stepping out of the way to allow the Starfleet Officer entry into the residence. Michael nodded in acceptance as he walked in past the greeter. “Lady Truellian is taking breakfast on the veranda and will see you there.” He spoke nonchalantly, motioning his hand out towards the balcony.
“Thank you.” Michael addressed the aide before crossing the grand entryway. The apartment was a testament to the power and luxury afforded to the Rigelian family, with vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and sheer silk drapes of red and purple hanging from all manner of anchors, catching the natural daylight and bathing the interior in a violet hue.
Lady Rutessa Truellian was lounging on a plush chaise; her body draped in a black and soot colored dress that hung to her figure like water. Michael cleared his throat to announce his presence, “Good Morning, Ma’am.”
“Ahh, Captain. What a pleasant surprise. Someone on this planet is capable of living up to their word.” The elegant Rigelian spoke as she lifted herself out of her seat. With a wave of her hand, a second plush seat appeared next to her own, a small end-table nestled between them. Michael had caught the momentary glance of light coming from a holographic projector hanging just over the exterior wall, but made no move to call it out.
“Do come, join me. I had my staff prepare some pastry tarts with Utaberries. I would like to formally apologize for my outburst last night. I hope you understand the stress of losing my brother, and dealing with the incompetence of this city’s administration has put quite a limit on my patience.” She explained, beckoning him to come closer.
Michael appeased her request, as he drew closer, he tried to get a read of her emotional state, but found that her mind was on high guard. Then again, given her choice of breakfast food, it was clear she had ousted him as a Betazoid and was deliberately using mental techniques to shield herself. “Thank you. I feel your frustration. I spent four days traveling here from my Starship and had received no communication from the administrator’s office. So despite the late hour of my arrival, I opted to try and get some semblance of what was going on when I was effectively ambushed by Doctor Langsten.” He explained, accepting a cup of tea that one of the attendants had ushered forth to them.
“Oh, to see him walk out of that room with his tail between his legs, was almost worth the scolding you dished out.” Rutessa reveled, as she took a sip from a wine glass that was full of something definitely not tea.
“Well, if it’s not too troubling for you, I’d like you to tell me about who your brother was. Service records only do so much, and as I have not served with him, I don’t really have a grasp of his identity.” Michael stated, taking a utaberry-tart off the tray that had been set down beside them.
“Marcus…was the rebel of the family. Second youngest of five, and the only male heir. My father was a controlling member of the Rigelian Trade Commission, and initially intended to groom Marcus to take his place. But Marcus was a dreamer, grand tales of the various Enterprises, the Dominion War, his head and heart were always in the stars. When he came of age, he expressed his intent to join Starfleet. My father thought it was a phase, and that once Marcus saw how hard it was, he would come running back…but my brother thrived.”
As she spoke, the cracks in her mental defenses began to show, bleeding faint emotions between them.
[Remorse, Reminiscence]
“By the time he graduated, my father realized he had lost his dream. He was furious. Refused to attend his graduation, even forbade us from attending. I still did, under disguise. Marcus somehow still managed to pinpoint me in the crowd. He was so happy and proud.” She continued, reaching up with one hand to wipe away a tear that started to form.
“My father fast-tracked me in his place and used what influence he had left to ensure Marcus was posted in a stagnant position. He stated it was punishment, to keep him in a dead-end posting, but honestly, I think he did so to ensure his safety. I mean, how much safer an assignment could you get than Starbase 01?” She elaborated.
Michael pursed his lips, having read the service record of Lt. Truellian; he knew where the story was about to go.
“When Frontier Day happened, instead of escaping the Starbase with everyone else, Marcus joined a strike team to try and regain control of one of the assimilated vessels. And for it, he had his neck snapped by one of the Borg-controlled crewmen. Thankfully, it didn’t kill him, but left him permanently paralyzed. My father called on every favor he had to get Marcus into this program, to try and restore some semblance of a life he once had…even knowing the risks.” She finished explaining.
“So, I understand you don’t contest the cause of death. What then is your stake here?” Michael inquired.
“They have released the body to me, but they refuse to release his personal effects. That…thing is holding claim to them, and because of that, we cannot perform the proper funeral rites, as dictated by our religious customs.” She remarked, her eyes sharper and fiercer than before.
“Ahh, I see.” Michael nodded, setting his drink down on the table. “Well, as I said before, I am here to gather all the facts and get to the bottom of this, so we can find a resolution for everyone. But, and I think you’re already aware…this isn’t going to be a clear-cut case.”
Rutessa’s eyes narrowed, “So you spoke to him then?”
Michael nodded, “Yes, briefly last night.”
She looked away, out towards the horizon, “And your thoughts on the matter?”
“Well, I’m trying to remain impartial, and for that, I needed to know a bit more about Marcus personally, and next, I need to coordinate with the techs from Daystrom to understand more about the program he was testing.” Michael began, his emotional senses on high alert, feeling for her personal thoughts on the matter.
[Tenacious, Hesitant]
“However, I have a strong feeling you already know what I am going to conclude…”
Once again, wiping away a pre-shed tear, Rutessa turned to face the captain. “Sir, you must know, I may be the Chairwoman of the Trade Commission, but that is in title only. My father still holds a controlling interest, and he, as well as the rest of my family, is more traditional than I or my brother once was. My thoughts on the matter are a moot point. What matters is that I complete my mission and return home with my brother’s remains and possessions, so that all rites may be attended in his honor. And I will defend that position with all the influence at my disposal if necessary.”
“I understand.” Michael spoke as he rose to his feet. “I thank you for your time, Lady Truellian. And I sincerely hope that by the end of this, I can find a way to satisfy all parties involved.” He addressed with a respectful bow.
“That, Captain…would be a miracle.”
[To be continued]
