“No.”

The word was heavy and hung in the conference room, its gravity sucking all the joy and hopefulness out of the room. An hour-long briefing had been brought to a point with a simple question and the answer had been as equally simple, though totally unexpected.

On one side of Atlantis’ diplomatic lounge sat Tikva and Mac, the display screen behind them so they could use it to bring up briefing material. Opposite them was a single individual – Commander Bren Scali, commander of the Free State Warbird Pero’lin. She’d insisted that any meeting between them would take place on Atlantis, that she’d have an honour guard with her at all times and a dozen other near-demands that had made accommodating her the next best thing to organising the entire Khitomer Conference.

“Pardon?” Tikva asked straight away, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean no?”

She and Mac had just spent the entire time briefing her, detailing the Dominion invasion, the evidence they had that this was actually the Dominion and not some Breen false-flag operation, what was known and not known, and the need for support. And Scali said absolutely nothing the entire meeting. No questions for clarification, no accusations that this was a plot, no cutting critique of Starfleet or the Federation – nothing.

And then when asked if she would speak to her government and seek support, if they would commit ships and resources to fight this threat, she spoke for the first time since entering the room and simply said ‘No.’

“I will not be speaking to my superiors or government about lending support to a purely United Federation of Planets issue.” Her tone of voice reminded Tikva of a particularly unimpressed school teacher, informing her class that she wasn’t and never has been amused by anything ever in her entire life.

Commander Bren Scali was at least a decade older than the Mac, a handful more on top of that decade for Tikva herself. At least by appearances. She could be much older if Romulan longevity was anything like Vulcan. Silver mixing in her hair was the most obvious display of her age but didn’t help without context.

“And why not?” Mac asked.

He’s struggling to keep his cool. Can’t you feel it?

We’re struggling to keep our cool. We asked how many leading questions in that briefing and she didn’t bite once.

She barely seemed to be paying attention. As if she was just passing time until we got to this. She could have interrupted and just got whatever point this is out without wasting our time.

She’s a Romulan. Wasting our time is her way of making a point.

And a dick move.

Well yes…

“The Free State does not appreciate being lured into a diplomatic trap, especially one where illegitimate rebellious rabble is present.” Scali practically spat the last five words across the table. “The diplomatic demand of your Admiral Beckett to be present for these negotiations stated that in lieu of the Romulan Star Empire, the Romulan successor state was invited to discuss the Federation Alliance reconvening to deal with a resurgent Dominion threat.” She narrowed her eyes and stared straight at Tikva.

“The Romulan successor state,” she repeated, emphasising the first word.

“Actually, Commander, that’s not true.” Tikva forced herself to relax, to lean back and sit in her chair properly. “The diplomatic request,” she emphasised the word heavily to counter the ‘demand’ as proposed by Scali, “stated the Romulan successor states. Plural. And I am aware that Admiral Beckett sent the request in Federation Standard and Romulan to ensure the wording was correct.”

Scali’s eyes narrowed, unblinking. “There is only one legitimate Romulan state in this galaxy Captain Theodoras.” She said it with all the haughtiness one might have expected from an Imperial Romulan, as seen in holodramas of the 60s and 70s, or more recent live ones who refused to admit their empire was dead. She’d heard similar tones in debriefings of Rator-aligned officers who’d been captured, stating calmly that any day the raptor would rise and vanquish the Federation.

Any day now.

“Reality says otherwise.” She stared back at Scali, playing the childish game of ‘who blinks first’.

And in the end, Scali blinked first. “As long as the United Federation of Planets continues to interfere in Romulan internal politics by supporting the so-called Republic, I will not convey any of this briefing to my superiors.”

“And if we were to extract a promise from the Federation Council that all support of the Republic was to be withdrawn?” Mac asked. “You would recommend to your government to send as many ships as possible to assist?” Tikva could that he wasn’t serious, but was good at not showing it. He wanted to know the depths of Scali’s position, just how ridiculous this was going to get.

“I would recommend we reunify the Romulan people, secure our borders and then, that complete, we can consider offering aid to whatever is left of the Federation at that time.” And Scali, unfortunately, meant that.

It tasted bitter to Tikva’s mind. Self-importance and unmerited confidence blended poorly. Brussels sprouts and coffee grinds came to her palette and she had to fight from reaching for water to try and wash away imaginary tastes. Instead, she just glared at Scali, willing herself to try and understand this woman and her position and unable to do so.

There’s no point in discussing this further with her. She’s anti-Federation.

Probably old-school Tal’Shiar and wants to see the Federation suffer.

They started the downfall of their own people. Let them stew in.

Punch her in the face!

Shut up Barbarian-Tikva! Though, it would feel good…

No!

“You’re Tal’Shiar.” Tikva just stated it matter-of-factly, then smirked as she tasted the sweet surprise from Scali. She caught Mac looking at her, caught his body language as he saw her smirk. Scali could hide it, but Tikva couldn’t. Made her a bad poker player.

“I will not stand –“

“Oh shut it!” Tikva barked and enjoyed the stunned look on the older woman’s face. “Your people were involved in the Attack on Mars –“

“You have no –“ Scali tried to cut in but Tikva rolled right over her.

“– making you culpable for the subsequent death of billions of Romulans. Your people hobble and cripple any social or political development within your so-called Free State. And when you’re asked for help against a foe that doesn’t care for Romulan neutrality you’d rather use it as a chance to score political points while offering nothing. Nothing!” Tikva had pushed herself to her feet, hands firmly on the conference table as she leaned forward, bringing her impressive lack of height to bear.

“You’ve wasted enough of my time and I have lives I need to go and save,” she continued. “Get off my ship. Now.” She practically growled that last bit as best she could. Where was Rrr when she needed a rumbling growl?

At that Mac stood up as well, without a word she could feel him glaring at Scali as well. Standing in solidarity with his captain. There was no disunity that Scali could exploit to allow her to stay and cast stones any further. So Scali slowly stood, again pulling that air of ownership around her, as if the room was hers and hers alone. She adjusted her uniform tunic, checked her sleeves and then locked eyes with Tikva.

“Typical human bravado. Your loss of temper was expected. So very childish of you.” And then Scali turned and headed for the door, her honour guard falling in around her, and the subsequent security officers around them.

She waited for the door to close, for a count of ten so Scali would be in the turbolift just down the hall and headed for the transporter room before she punched a fist into the tabletop. Then immediately hissed in pain as she pulled her fist in close, tucking it under her opposite arm.

“Feel better?” Mac asked, looking rather unsympathetic. Grinning even.

“Smarmy, self-centred, duplicitous bitch,” she hissed. “Wasted a day organising that meeting and she had no intention of dealing with us at all.”

“Interesting revelation that the Free State considers itself the singular legitimate Romulan successor state,” Mac pointed out, walking to the diplomatic lounge’s replicator and returning with an ice pack.

“Just her opinion,” she confirmed for Mac’s sake. “We got lumped with an anti-Federation Tal’Shiar officer I’m guessing, at least from the surprise I felt from her when I called her out.” She took the icepack, settling across her knuckles. “Or she was just shocked I’d make such a diplomatic faux pas as to actually accuse her of such a thing. We were never going to get the Free State. She could have said something from the moment she arrived here and saw the Admiral Ketterac, but no, she wanted to see what we had to offer and waste our time.”

“Honestly don’t know what to say Cap,” Mac said with a smile. “Aside from perhaps you could have been a bit more tactful when dealing with a woman with a D’deridex-class warbird at her command?”

“Yah maybe I –“

“Red alert!” came Lin’s commanding voice over the ship’s internal comm systems. “All hands to battle stations! Senior staff to the bridge.” There was something truly reassuring about the firm, confident tone Lin used to tell everyone bad news. Things were bad, but they were under control. In firm hands.

Firm hands…

Not the time!

But –

Later all right?

Fine.

Both she and Mac looked out the diplomatic lounge’s windows, looking to the ship’s starboard. Blinking lights of starships off in the distance, the hulking mass of Handl Dryf, all started to slide sideways as Atlantis was manoeuvring. But nearby, just as it was sliding out of view, they could make out the mass of Romulan warbird Pero’lin as she too was turning, bringing her bow to point in their direction.

“Oh, come off it!” Tikva shouted as she and Mac turned as one and sprinted out the door.