"I would prefer being alone."

Charvanek smiled a Romulan smile. "Always the best time for company." She slid into the booth and gave an imperious flick of her hand to the servitor. "Wine," she commanded and sent him scurrying. She leaned forward, wrinkling her nose at Saavik's glass. "It works better if you try something stronger than water." The servitor reappeared nervously with a fresh glass and a bottle of brilliant purple blue Romulan wine. She took both and sent the man off with a snarl. "Allow me," Charvanek said and calmly tossed the contents of Saavik's glass on the floor. She splashed the vibrant liquid into her glass and then filled her own. "What brings a notable Starfleet commander to a place like this?"

Saavik's eyebrow lifted. "What brings a notable Romulan commander to a place like this?"

Charvanek smiled. "He would not approve, you know." She lifted her drink and tasted it thoughtfully. "Or is that why you are here?"

Saavik felt a soft flush color her cheeks and very nearly scowled. "I am on shore leave."

Charvanek leaned back, settling in comfortably. She studied Saavik critically. "You are looking better."

"I am not dying."

Charvanek's smile reappeared. "My congratulations on your marriage."

Saavik's eyes narrowed. "Thank you. And my congratulations on your success in the Empire."

Charvanek dipped her head in acknowledgment. She swirled the liquid in her glass. "I hear you have been offered the command of your own ship."

Saavik said nothing.

"I hear it is the new Vulcan ship." Her smooth forehead creased in mock thought. "What is its name? The Logic?"

"The Intrepid." Saavik corrected, eyes narrowing further. "As you undoubtedly are quite aware."

The Romulan smiled. "Ah, yes, the brave Intrepid." She stretched her legs out. "Of course, I understand your hesitation to take such a ship."

"I do not believe in superstition."

"And I do not believe in losing. We both must learn to make concessions."

Saavik's mouth curved ever so slightly in one small corner. "You are challenging me."

Charvanek pretended interest in her drink. "And you find it humorous?"

"He is not a prize."

"So you say." She leaned forward suddenly, resting her chin in her hand. "And what if I should prove otherwise?"

Saavik lifted her glass and took a drink. "You are welcome to attempt it." She set it back down. "Of course, Romulans by nature do not take well to defeat."

Charvanek's eyes narrowed and then she laughed. "I like you."

Saavik grimaced. "The thought is refreshing."

Charvanek laughed again. She leaned back in the booth. "We are very much alike."

"Insulting me will not substantionally improve the odds of your success."

"We have the same strength, the same intelligence in battle-" the Romulan's eyes grew cunning, "—the same Spock."

Saavik's gaze grew frosty. "You are attempting to provoke me."

"Truth can be that way sometimes."

"I do not believe you."

Charvanek smiled. She drained her glass and refilled it. "Do you remember how the first cloaking device fell into the hands of your Federation?"

Saavik went still. "That mission is still classified."

"Is that uncertainty in your voice?"

"That mission is still classified."

Charvanek swirled the liquid in her drink, eyes not leaving Saavik's face. "He was ordered to get the device through any means necessary." She smiled. "I am sure you know just how . . . persuasive he can be."

Saavik's fair skin darkened. "I do not care for y our implications."

Charvanek's eyes widened in sudden innocence. "You mean to tell me he has never . . . mentioned his . . . involvement in the details of the mission?"

"I am aware," Saavik said tightly, "that he managed to capture both you and the cloaking device."

Charvanek's eyes grew dangerous. "And you don't care how he managed such a feat?"

Saavik was silent.

Charvanek looked smugly triumphant. "And here I though Vulcans lacked passion. You are angry."

"Deception under the oath of duty is not worthy of such an emotion."

Charvanek's eyes flared. "I was no deception!" She spat out.

Saavik's gaze was penetrating. "Had he desired you, he would have accepted your . . . invitation in the capitol."

Charvanek's head snapped back as if struck. The glass in her hand groaned under the pressure of her fist.

Saavik's mouth twitched. "You did not think he would tell me."

Charvanek forced a smile.

Saavik studied the liquid in her glass quietly a long moment before her gaze lifted back to the other's eyes. "I knew the possibilities when he sent me away."

Charvanek frowned. "And you went anyway?"

Saavik shrugged slightly.

The other's frown deepened. "Why?"

Saavik's gaze was clear and calm. "I preferred he live."

Charvanek leaned back slowly. She took a long drink out of her glass. "And had he accepted my . . . invitation?"

Saavik studied her. "It is no dishonor to lose to a more worthy opponent."

Charvanek colored. She sighed. "I see why he chose you."

Saavik's eyes grew curious. "May I ask why?"

The Romulan smiled. "You would not understand if I told you." She lifted her glass in salute. "To losing with honor." She drained the glass and stood. "I will bid you a good evening now."

Saavik inclined her head, still thinking on the other's words.

Charvanek turned to go and then suddenly turned back. "I hear there is a new movement amongst the shadows of the Empire. If it has its way, he and I will cross paths again." A very Romulan smile twisted her lips into a predatory grin. "I do not believe in losing."

Saavik watched her disappear. She sat still for a little bit longer in the booth and then rose, draining her glass in one swallow. She set it down carefully and straightened her shoulders with a long sigh.

Then her lips gave the shadow of a curve.

She pulled the communicator from her belt and snapped it open. "Lieutenant Andreas, prepare a link to Vulcan. I am returning to the ship immediately."

Without waiting for a response, she snapped it close. Her gaze fell on the half empty bottle of Romulan wine on the booth's table and her eyes narrowed.

"Neither do I."