Kolvash walked in and held up a brown sack. Once the sliding door closed behind him, he opened the sack and withdrew a bottle of pale green liquid. "Now we can have a REAL drink," he said with a smile.
Bolerov smiled. He had heard of romulan ale, but never seen it. He suspected that was what Kolvash was holding. "I'll get some glasses." Pride urged Andrei to drink often and heavily to prove he could keep pace with a middle aged romulan. Age and wisdom implied that would be a bad idea. "Have a seat." he offered as he retrieved some glasses from the kitchenette.
Kolvash sat down with a grunt. "I hope I didn't come at a bad time."
Bolerov sat down in the chair next to him and extended the glasses. "Not at all. I just went off-shift an hour ago. I have eleven more hours to recover from whatever this does to me." The two smiled as Kolvash poured.
Andrei held up his glass. "What shall we drink to?"
Kolvash raised his glass to Bolerov's. "Let us drink to the company of kindred spirits."
"I'll drink to that," with that, the two took a long drink. For a moment, the syrupy liquid seemed to have no taste whatsoever. Then, as it passed the top of his throat, he tasted a vague flavor of bananas. Then... it hit him... a burn like the worst vodka. It took his breath away. His mouth contorted. Thankfully, it had a similar effect on Kolvash. "That's interesting," Bolerov whispered hoarsely.
"A drink for a warrior, eh?" Kolvash whispered back. He quickly refilled the glasses.
Obviously, Bolerov thought, whatever Kolvash's mission was in coming here, part of it involved getting him drunk. He'd have to go easy on the ale, despite his desire to drink Kolvash under the table... or pass out trying. His second sip of the green syrup was much smaller than the first. Gradually, he sat back in his chair. It was starting to have an effect already. "So..." he started slowly, "what brings you to my ship again?"
Kolvash scoffed as he sat down. "I needed to get away. I've been stuck in bureaucracy for the past two days. I'm starting to see why there was such a large scale assassination in the Senate. Someone must have sat through one of those meetings."
Bolerov laughed. "Why did you get stuck in that?"
The romulan commander shook his head and took another drink. "Inquiry after inquiry about our little 'incident'. They wanted all kinds of details on the Federation masking technology, your ship's weapons capabilities," he took another drink, "why I followed your orders, why I allowed your crew to board a romulan ship... I think someone once asked me why I wash my hair the way I do."
"I'm sorry we caused you so much trouble," Bolerov countered lightly. He took a drink as well. It didn't burn quite as much as before. That was probably a bad sign. "Next time, we can just let them shoot you."
Kolvash laughed. "It may come to that in the future. I told them I didn't mind submitting to a superior fighting force. After all, we expect our enemies to do that for us." He took another drink. "That didn't go over well. Actually..." he paused for a few moments, "I'd say half of them praised me for letting the Federation take the lead, the other half cursed me."
"Sounds like your new government has some issues to clear up." He commented and took another drink. Actually, this stuff wasn't that bad. That was probably another bad sign.
"Not all change is good change," Kolvash added. His voice was beginning to slur... perhaps it was just Bolerov's hearing.
"No..." Bolerov reflected on his own government's change in philosophy. He remembered how much of a fight it had been to get the Dreadnaught II project off the ground. The project began in earnest after the Borg incursion, but was halted pending more reviews. It wasn't until the Dominion War came to Earth that it was restarted. Since then, even the Federation President had been hesitant to unveil the project. He took another drink. "What can you do?" He asked rhetorically.
Kolvash thought for several moments. This was the REAL reason why he came aboard. True, the ale wasn't affecting him as much as he was letting on, but he could tell it was starting. Hopefully, Bolerov was loose enough now to listen to the proposal. "What if there WAS something we could do?"
Bolerov was starting to feel tipsy and dared not drink any more. This discussion must be part of the reason why he came. He needed to stay sober enough to listen and remember. It was time for him to start acting more intoxicated than he was. Bolerov looked confused. "What do you mean?" He asked, his speach intentionally slurring a bit.
"I mean... what if we could get back to the way things were?" He asked, taking another drink. "You know... no more wimpy governments afraid to make an aggressive move. You and me captaining against one another... our two powers competing for dominance once more."
Bolerov put his glass to his lips and pretended to drink. "How can we do that?" This conversation wasa beginning to interest him... in more ways than one.
"Never mind the details. I just need to know if you're interested." His eyes struggled to focus on Bolerov, but he looked intense.
Andrei was having a difficult time comprehending exactly what Kolvash meant. The idea of the Empire and the Federation going back to what he was comfortable with, though, was enticing. "Yeah... I'm interested."
"Good!" Kolvash exclaimed. He stood up uneasily, then slowed his pace. "Keep this meeting to yourself. I'll talk to you soon." He took one more drink, put his glass down, and headed for the door.
"Wait," Bolerov had a dozen questions to ask him, but it was hard to focus long enough to think of them. "What about the ale?" was all he could think to ask.
"Keep it." Kolvash answered with a wink. "It's a present... but... hide it. Remember, romulan ale is illegal in the Federation." Kolvash said with a smile.
"Thanks for the present," Bolerov answered, still confused. "and the information."
"Remember," Kolvash put his finger somewhere near his mouth. "Shhhh." The door slid open silently. "We'll talk later." With that, he staggered out the door.
Andrei watched him leave, his head still swimming with half-completed thoughts. He would need to sleep this ale off before trying to think coherently. He thought briefly about heading off to bed, but determined the chair was awfully comfortable.