Saavik released T'Pren and her fellow student to Kyle Nachson's watchful gaze as they made their way to their quarters. He had served with Saavik aboard the Armstrong, and came with her to her Vulcan command assignment. In some ways, he was unofficially Saavik's protégé, but he had no idea why she took the time to smooth the rough edges he had learned at a difficult orphanage on one of the Federation's colonies.
T'Pren did.
Vulcan's sun had bleached his dark blonde hair and tanned his light skin. The light from the intermittent, overhead lights caught both as he looked around the long corridor lined with resin sculptures. The skin was tight over his cheekbones and his light blue eyes darted everywhere, but when he saw her looking up at him, the corner of his mouth crooked in the familiar sideways smile and he winked at her.
T'Pren was used to escorts, when they were necessary; she had to be with her family's sensitive work. So Nachson's presence didn't cause her to even lift an eyebrow. What did spark her interest was all that she had gotten from this mission already, even as an observer. An introduction and the chance to stretch her research to actual interaction with Speaker. The negotiations already changed with renewed Romulan interest.
The only thing that hadn't happened, so far, was time with her parents as her parents. T'Pren had anticipated sailing off with not just one, but both Saavik and Spock, instead of remaining behind in her network of caregivers. She had thought it meant a chance to be with them, and without having to share them with her brother and sister.
Spock and Saavik, however, are the mission leaders. My status may be one of minimal observation, but I come under their leadership as a member of their team. And despite all the hard work it took to earn this place, she was fortunate to have it.
Serving under her father reminded her of something Pavel Chekov once said. He had watched Spock teach T'Pren the Universal Translator, praising her when she grasped what he said. Chekov had complained about the difference in the lessons he had received. Spock responded, "I am T'Pren's father, not her teacher. It affords leniency and compliments." Chekov had looked over to Saavik and declared, "Ve vere robbed."
Being now in the role of Spock's student instead of his daughter, T'Pren understood what the Admiral had meant.
Nachson's voice broke in. "You're not worried about this ship in orbit?"
T'Pren's look at him questioned whether he had learned anything from his years with her mother; the other girl's look questioned his intelligence.
The corner of his mouth started to rise, but he pulled it back to match their solemn expressions. "I apologize. I could have worded that better. Of course you wouldn't worry. Worry will not affect the outcome, and therefore is illogical."
T'Pren gave him a nod of approval, but the other girl remained skeptical.
He asked her, "How might I have better stated what I said?"
Her air showed she knew far better, at her fourteen years, than he did. "We must accommodate for the ship in orbit, but it is not a crisis."
"Yes," he said, his face straight. "I see."
"The statement would still be illogical as the Ambassador has already told us this."
"Yes, of course. I am gratified by your explaining this to me."
Now T'Pren became skeptical as the other girl nodded. Her narrowed eyes dragged away, unable to catch him smiling, but he did it when she turned away. She didn't see it any more than she saw the phaser on the back of his belt.
His communicator signal came at the same time her ears picked up the sound of someone coming. She started telling Nachson what she heard, but he held up his hand.
The deep baritone of Saavik's science officer, another Vulcan, spoke. "Sensors indicate--"
T'Pren paid no attention to the rest of it, or to Nachson pushing both girls into a dark alcove partially blocked by a golden, hive carving. From the first sight of the group coming around a corner into the hallway, she held her breath and pressed against the wide sculpture. The honeycombed surface gave her small peepholes to see out.
Romulans.
"Just let them pass," Nachson barely whispered, but she didn't pay attention.
They were nothing like she expected. She knew Ruanek, an exiled Romulan, all her life. He was, in fact, one of her guardians, linked to her at her birth.
But these people weren't like the warm Ruanek. Or perhaps they were a Ruanek he never let her see. Their uniforms emphasized the weapons they each carried and the Bird of Prey emblem that held the homeworlds in its talons. The woman in front even tapped the hilt of her Honor Blade, and dragged her other hand through her dark hair, revealing a scar running next to one eye.
She must be their leader.
She set the pace, and despite her medium height next to the others' longer legs, she had them hustling to keep up with her. Her boots slammed down against the hard floor, and T'Pren felt the slight vibration travel into the golden sculpture next to her cheek.
"Damn every one of these bugs for getting me dragged here!"
T'Pren silently thanked her father for insisting she learn the Romulan language. Otherwise, she'd miss out on what this very interesting woman was saying.
"Tell me how nothing is happening within the Empire that I can spare a ship, my time, and my crew to negotiate treaties that don't supply a planet for a year! These--"
T'Pren knew those words were curses, because she heard Ruanek use them before, and then look surprised when she repeated them in her two-year old excitement over learning something new. He refused to tell her what they meant, though, and muttered under his breath that she could learn them from her mother. T'Pren was younger then. She knew he meant it as a joke because he laughed, but she didn't understand it and didn't know he never intended for her to repeat it. So she told it to Saavik at the first opportunity. Saavik hadn't appreciated it the way Ruanek had.
One Romulan male kept in step with the commander, wearing the same rank insignia that she did. The other two stayed respectfully -- and safely -- a couple steps behind. This Romulan laughed and brushed against the woman, and when T'Pren saw him do it, she thought that he, at least, showed some bit of Ruanek. Something about the eyes when he laughed were the same.
Not that they looked anything alike. This male was older, his jaw narrowing down from wide cheekbones, and his eyes some light color. T'Pren still considered herself fortunate for the hive carving keeping her from his view. He did not remind her of Ruanek that much... but he did laugh in the same kind of way.
The illogical thought T'Kel should be here crossed her mind. Her twin, somehow, seemed better equipped for this moment. She always plagued Ruanek for information on the Empire. Saavik did not appreciate that either.
The Romulan with Ruanek's laugh spoke to the other commander. "You never had much time for diplomacy, Ajeya." He grinned as he said it.
The woman's head turned sharply to him and her mouth parted.
Why is she surprised? He appears to know her. Perhaps he has never spoken informally with her prior to this?
But then, why did Commander Ajeya look at him like this? She looked... the way T'Pren, coming unheard into the room, once saw Saavik look at Spock. And for a second, the male started to return the look along with a smile, but he stopped like it hurt.
It hurt Commander Ajeya that he didn't return it, T'Pren saw. And they moved away from each other, no longer walking so closely side by side. T'Pren's eyes rounded as Commander Ajeya slapped a fist against her thigh.
I must tell T'Kel that a Romulan commander used the same gesture she used to make!
"Isn't that why you're here, Diartr?" Ajeya asked. "You handled the damned bugs before. And you're on the rise in Ki Baratan."
"If I do this wrong and we lose this pitiful contract, the planet might decide to join the Federation. Then I'll be what's on the dinner menu in Ki Baratan." He glanced over his shoulder at the people trailing them. He did it in the opposite direction from where T'Pren watched, but she still took a slow step back into the dark. "You get some excitement with the Federai ship in orbit. You acted like you ran into it before. Or was it the captain?"
She knows Mother? T'Pren had thought the Arongotu kept their buildings reasonably warm, but now she felt a chill.
Ajeya shrugged after taking a long look at him. "You didn't think it worth noticing? You wear that rank and you don't react to a Starfleet captain having a Romulan name?"
The whole party turned down another corridor.
"Create a problem with Starfleet, Ajeya, and Narviat will have your head as a side dish with mine. The Empire can't afford it with..."
T'Pren heard their voices trail behind them, but she focused on the rifle strapped to the last male's back until he was too far away to see anymore.
She at last dared to move, only her head though, and saw Nachson's phaser in his hand. He kept his eyes in the direction the Romulans went as he spoke into his communicator to the Contact's communications officer.
"Okay, we're clear. No, no problems. We got lucky, they didn't even notice us. I don't speak Romulan so I can't tell you why, but their commander looked pis--" He looked down at T'Pren and the other girl. "--uh, upset about being here. I recorded the whole contact for the captain. You can cancel that security backup. What, repeat that. All right, I'll tell him when he gets here to guard their doors, then I'll head back to the council chamber. But tell the captain the Arongotu told the truth about keeping us separate. S'jair probably sees it on the scanners, they're headed away from our assigned areas. Flag this hallway as a problem though."
The girl next to her went from looking after the Romulans back to T'Pren. Her winged eyebrows drew together as she repeated the glance from one direction to the other. T'Pren guessed at its meaning.
I do not see the Romulan blood within me either.