The Empire's Destiny

By Asso

Chapter Fifty-Four

Strange encounters.


Strange encounters.

And I don't add anything else.


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Strange how sometimes small things can suddenly evoke great memories.

And in the most unexpected moments.

In moments when everything should be done except letting yourself reminisce.

But yet...

The finger on the button couldn't manage to put up its mind to press it.

That button...

Of that device...

Made by him...

The man looked at his finger suspended over the button as if it almost did not belong to him, as if it were something foreign, an entity independent of his will, endowed with its own existence.

Made by him. The device made by… him.

Yeah. By him. By the man to whom he had entrusted the realization of his ambitions and, ultimately, his own destiny itself. And... the man he owed being alive to now. And being there, in that place, saved from the clutches of that usurper female, who had self-proclaimed herself Empress.

By the man he was now expecting a clue from. An indication. Anything.

And... and so then maybe it wasn't all that strange that, against all logic, his mind, right now, was going far.

Far and back.

Back in time.

At the time and place of their first meeting.

He couldn't help but smile ironically to himself.

*What the hell am I doing here?*

He remembered well that inner unanswered question that had caught him, while sitting at that table, in that lousy tavern.

In truth, the environment did not displease him and, in fact, the choice of the place had been his.

He smiled sarcastically to himself again.

He had always enjoyed hanging out the slums, tasting people's mood. Away from the lifeless, cloying and false air of the imperial court; away from that wimp man whom mere luck had raised to the rank of Emperor; a rank, a place, which, by virtue of his lineage and his ability, his steadfastness, his force, should have belonged to him.

Danger?

Phooey!

He was strong. And he knew it.

He didn't need guards whatsoever.

And then, when things were go to the worst, it would have been enough for him to show himself openly.

He was HIM, damn it!

And no one would ever have dared to tackle him!

That unconscious question - unconscious but not so much - that "What the hell am I doing here?", was not addressed to the place, but to the why. Yeah, the why.

Why had he let himself be persuaded by his inept relative, miserable clerk in Starfleet headquarters, that inept pseudo-man whom he granted his protection only to prove one more time how powerful he was, to consent to meet that person, that stranger, who claimed to have something big to propose him?

To offer him.

Asking in return... oh well, there was to laugh at the thought of what that fellow asked in return.

Yet he had let himself be convinced.

Why?

What had struck him in the story of his relative that had induced him to say yes and set, he himself, time and place of the meeting?

What could there be in that stranger so outstanding, so peculiar, as to be able to put in the mouth of his relative the right words to convince him to consent to meet him?

All this had passed through his mind as waiting in the tavern.

Until the door had opened.

And he had known immediately - who knows why, who knows how, he had realized perfectly - that the figure framing itself in the doorway - a dark and tall shadow in the tavern's dirty light vainly fighting against the lightless night outside - was him.

The one he was waiting for.


"When I opened the door of that sordid tavern I immediately realized who my man was."

Tucker had recovered.

An almost annoyed shaking of the head, a shrug, as if to chase away any useless thought, any vain regret.

Then he had resumed narration.

The second meeting with the man he had approached on the bench had taken place.

Which meant that the man had accepted the covenant.

And, in fact, the time and place had been set for the meeting with the high-ranking person who, according to the man of the bench, could do what Tucker wanted done for him.

The man had reported that the person in question would meet with him late at night. He would be waiting for him at midnight in a specific place.

A tavern.

A sordid slums tavern.

Well known by all.

Also by him, Tucker.

Obviously. You couldn't be in San Francisco without knowing about that tavern.

Tucker smiled sardonic and winking at T'Pol.

"I was not surprised by that choice. On the contrary, I rejoiced. It was a clear sign that the man I was supposed to meet with was the very man who was right for me. He was 'that man'. The man whose power was known as well as the rebellious spirit. Powerful enough that he could not be prosecuted by the Emperor in defiance of his well-known aspiration to... shall we say... greater power. That man."

Tucker smiled sarcastically again.

"And now, there he was, sitting at that table, alone, covered up and, in a fashion, almost hidden in a crimson cloak, whose hood encircled his head, caching his face, without being capable of concealing his rank. Such a shining and fine fabric was not the fabric of a man of the people."

Tucker's smile turned sly.

"He was my man."


Memories flowed.

Despite the moment, the situation, the urgency, they kept flowing.

They crowded his mind.

While his finger continued not to make up its mind to press the button.


Something, a glimmer, shone in T'Pol's mind.

"That man" her Adun had said.

And the few words he had spent to connote him spoke clearly.

That. Man.

And there was only one man who could dovetail with that connotation.

Only one.

But...

But then...

What was...?

What was really the secret war her Adun was involved in?

The man who corresponded to the description, albeit minimal, given by her Adun, was not... certainly not a man who could favour any freedom for the subjects of the Human Empire.

So then?

Was she...

Was she in error about that secret war?

She believed, she was certain, that it was a war... a just war.

A war... a war of freedom.

But...

But what if she was deceiving herself?

What if... what if that secret war was instead...?

Was instead...

But no.

No!

Sincerity!

This was what now existed between her and him! Her T'hai'la. Her Adun. Her Ashayam!

Sincerity and trust!

Sincerity and trust!

TRUST!

The Bond couldn't lie! He couldn't be fooled!

It couldn't...

It couldn't be that...

That...

Tucker's voice luckily took her from those exhausting thoughts of hers.

*Listen to him, T'Pol! Listen to him, foolish Vulcan gal!

Listen to him!

Don't listen to the absurdly logical ruminations of your Vulcan mind!

Listen to him!

Immerse yourself in his recounting!*


"I entered the room as the door closed on the night.

I looked strange, I was aware of it, with that long, dark greatcoat and that big beat-up trilby that hid my face in the shadows; but not stranger than many other customers.

Not stranger, not more out of place in that place, all in all, than the man sitting at that table.

After a moment in which I could see and even feel the eyes of many turn to me, I saw and felt those same eyes turn elsewhere, to what everyone was looking at before I entered.

Everyone's eyes.

Except those of the man sitting at that table.

His gaze, even without me being able to see his eyes, was fixed on me.

It followed me. It didn't leave me.

I perceived it clearly."


His eyes hadn't left the man firm just one step inside the threshold.

He was perfectly aware that the person who had just entered had immediately noticed him.

But he hadn't moved in the slightest.

It was up to that man to make the right move.


"I took a few steps into the dimly lit room. I looked around as if looking for a free place to sit. But all the tables were occupied. "

Tucker smiled slyly.

"Fortunately for me".

The smile disappeared, to reappear soon after even slyer.

"A little luck doesn't hurt and, after all, Lady Luck was largely indebted to me."

Tucker made a slight gesture with his hand. As if to underline what his voice was about to make clear.

"It was necessary I asked someone to allow me to sit at his own table. Better, of course, if that table were occupied by only one person. It would have been more... well yes, you, my sweet Vulcan girl, are surely in agreement with such an adjective... more logical to ask only one person to let me sit down rather than many."

Tucker winked his good eye.

"Don't you think, my Vulcan sweetie?"

He smirked again.

"And that person, just that one, was sitting alone at his table."

The smirk became sly more and more.

"Who would have found anything strange that I asked exactly that person to sit at his table? A choice like any other, nothing more, perhaps reasonably suggested by his rather noble appearance, definitely not intimidating as that of the others. Who would have ever suspected that I just wanted to sit at his table with him? And, if I was wrong about him, well... nothing would happen. I simply had to find a way to both leave him at his table and find the person I was looking for. And, on the other hand, it must be said I also had to find a way to make sure that he was the one I was searching for. All a bit complicated, my sweetheart, undeniable. But, by now, I was definitely getting used to the new complications that my new life entailed. Basically it was not very different from what I had had to face on Mercury. It was still about finding a way to achieve my goals while staying alive. It was the ways that had changed, but Mercury had also taught me to use many and varied ways. And then I was sure not to be wrong. I was dressed exactly as my bench mate had described to his high-ranking relative that I was dressed. That, we had agreed, would be my mark of recognition. And the man's gaze, which I felt be fixed on me, told me that I was not mistaken. So I quietly moved towards that table."


Thoughts.

Thoughts. Memories.

His finger hung in midair above the button. Unmoving.

But not unmoving was the mind, that kept up remembering.


"I stopped in front of the table where the man covered with that fine cloak was sitting and, calmly, I turned to him. Calmly and kindly, T'Pol. But with well-chosen words."


It was him.

No doubt.

That greatcoat...

That beat-up trilby hiding his face...

Now he could see clearly the man.

It was really him.

And the man must surely have understood that the person he was looking for was him.

Yes. The man had understood perfectly well that it was him the person he had to meet with.

The nonchalant tranquillity the man had moved with towards his table was not something that could deceive him.

As well as the quiet and polite words the man had addressed to him, while stopping in front of the table where he was sitting.

Words that said it all.

Words he would always remember.

As well as the entire dialogue that would follow.

And how could he ever forget it?

It would change his life forever.


HHHHHHHHHHH

["Good evening Sir. I beg your pardon if I dare to address you. A man of such a poor appearance as mine should certainly not think that he can turn with impunity to a man of your rank, as your appearance clearly shows. However please understand me. I am cold, thirst and hunger and I seek refreshment. All the tables are occupied and certainly the appearance of the other patrons is not reassuring. But you, if I may be allowed to say, look very different from the others, decidedly nobler, and, therefore I dare to think you will not refuse me hospitality at your table. I'm not mistaken, right, Sir?"]

HHHHHHHHHHH


The man in the greatcoat had spoken just as his relative had told him he had spoken to him. A sophisticated language, even verbose, but extremely direct. Unequivocal, in its intentions. And therefore there was no longer any doubt. But he had also done something specific. He had addressed him by mentioning his high rank. In short, he had said to him "I am me and I think you are you. But I want to know if I'm right."

And he too had found the right words.


"The richly dressed man's answer removed all doubt from me, T'Pol."

HHHHHHHHHHH

["People's appearance is not always in keeping with what they might be. I, you are not mistaken, am a person of high rank. In my case, appearance corresponds to who I am. But, perhaps, it is not the same for you. Who knows? I wonder how you might look dressed ... I don't know ... in Starfleet uniform."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

"Just these words, T'Pol. Just these words the man addressed me. And with these words the mutual recognition was accomplished. The man gestured his hand to me, inviting me to sit down. And I sat down opposite him. With another calm yet imperious movement of his hand, he called the waiter and, without waiting for any request from me, ordered for me. I did not refuse, of course! Then, when the waiter brought what ordered and was gone, the man, still without showing his face, raised the mug on the table in front of him towards me and spoke."

HHHHHHHHHHH

["Refresh yourself and, in the meantime, let's talk."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

He took a long sip from the mug, then put it down on the table and finally remained waiting for me to speak.

I could see his eyes now.

The face was largely concealed, as mine.

But the eyes no.

They were staring at me.

Curious."


HHHHHHHHHHH

["Refresh yourself and, in the meantime, let's talk."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

So he had told the man with the greatcoat.

Then, the mug in front of him, he had looked at him steadily, waiting for him to speak.

And he had spoken.

And the insane venture had begun.


"And I spoke, T'Pol.

And the insane venture began."


In spite of everything, in spite of the moment and the situation, in spite of that finger, that should have pressed the button and persisted in not doing it, the man could not help but smile self-mockingly to himself.

Insane venture.

Sure.

But not more insane than the conversation he and the stranger had had.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["You do know what I want from you, Sir."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

Without mincing words. Without any pompous refinement this time.

A few precise words from the man who was now quietly refreshing himself in front of him.

And just as direct it had been him.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["Yes, I know. You want to become part of the Starfleet. Immediately and without much delay. In spite of every regulation that wants there to be an adequate path to achieve such a result. In addition to solid references. This is something unheard of, but I have the power and means to make it happen. But in exchange for what, my unknown interlocutor? What can you offer me so… palatable… that I can be induced to go to the bother of doing such a thing?"]


HHHHHHHHHHH

"The man with the cloak had immediately got into the thick. And in no uncertain terms, T'Pol. I couldn't see his face, just his eyes, exactly as he, on the contrary, couldn't see my eyes but only my visage, and partially. But I'm sure that if I could have, I would have seen a sardonic smile on that face. And this ... "- Tucker grinned - "... I definitely liked it. "

Tucker paused briefly.

Then...

His face became serious.

"It was possible we could understand each other, T'Pol. Perfectly possible."


HHHHHHHHHHH

["I can offer you the way to obtain the power you desire, Sir. I can offer you the Empire."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

The astonishment he had felt at hearing those words, clear and sharp, from the man now sitting at his table, still gripped him.

Such an astonishment that the finger suspended on the button withdrew, that his entire hand withdrew and fell limply on the desk.


T'Pol felt her heart leap in her chest.

So it was true!

It was true!

The man her Adun had turned to in order to enter Starfleet, to have the opportunity to start weaving his web, was that man!

The words he had addressed to that man and which he had just reported her left no room for doubt!

But... but in this case the web that he, her... her Bond mate… had built - assuming that, just as all her Katra screamed at her, wasn't really aimed at actually bringing down the Human Empire in the clutches of the Romulans, though… tough in… in truth he had never made it clear - ... that web ... was that web simply aimed at changing the top of the Empire? To have the old Emperor replaced by... by...?

But... but if it was so... where did the dream of freedom end?

That man was no different from the old Emperor; indeed if possible he was even worse!

Or... or maybe... he... her Ashayam... did he really want to hand the Earth Empire into the hands of the Romulans?

Was it possible that... that she was deceiving herself in such a tremendous way?

Possible that the Bond had deceived itself to such an extent!?

No!

NO NO NO!

It was not possible!

IT WAS NOT POSSIBLE!

*Don't get you sucked up in your mind, T'Pol! Listen... listen to your heart! Don't let your mind get the better of it just as you foolishly allowed it happen in the past!

Keep listening to what your Adun tells you!

Certainly... certainly you will find an... an explanation...

...logical!*


He had managed to control himself, after a not short moment.

And their incredible conversation had begun.

It had really begun.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["You ... you know who I am!"

"Yes, Sir. Or, better, yes my Lord. I know. Or am I deceiving myself? Maybe, but I think not."

"O... okay. You are not being mistaken. I am who you think I am. But what do your words mean? And mind what you say. If you know who I am, you know just as well that I am not a man who can be deceived with impunity."

HHHHHHHHHHH

A sort of lightning in the half-hidden face of the man in greatcoat.

A sparkle.

Perhaps from his eyes, albeit they persisted in remaining hidden.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["I've faced death so many times that taking on it once more, it makes no difference, my Lord."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

That glitter again.

He could have sworn it appeared as a sort of a sardonic grin.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["Actually, my Lord, I think death is really fed up of chasing me. Last time I swindled death in such a way that I have good reasons to believe it doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

At that point he hadn't been able to restrain himself. He had burst out, even if in a low voice. But sibilant. Menacingly.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["Don't abuse my patience, man! Who do you think you are to talk like that?"]

HHHHHHHHHHH

And, at his words, the man had brought his hand to his hat.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["Allow me, my Lord, to show you who I am. To show you my face."]

HHHHHHHHHHH

And, with a quick gesture, he had taken off his hat.

His visage had appeared.

Defaced.

Just as he had been told by his relative.

But it was one thing to imagine in your own mind, another thing to see with your own eyes.

It was quite another thing to see in person that horrible scar that furrowed the face and one eye of that man.

Which seemed to pulsate livid in the uncertain light of the tavern.

HHHHHHHHHHH

["Allow me to show you Cain's face."]

HHHHHHHHHHH


End of Chapter Fifty-Four

TBC

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Strange encounters.

And also rather ambiguous, aren't they?

Poor T'Pol!

A "helpless" (eh eh) Vulcan girl shouldn't be so miserably induced into doubt! Don't you think?

How are things really?

What really is this secret Tucker's war in which T'Pol has sworn to side with him? Perhaps being completely mistaken?

Can it really be possible that the Bond could get fooled?

Well, let's see, my friends.

Those who have will and time to read further will know.

I swear it.