***Time Is Too Slow…***
~Chapter 6~
About four hours later, Toru discreetly sent a message to two waiting men on the surface.
"That's the final go-ahead," Cray said as he received the communication.
"Ah, good. The sooner we start, the sooner we can finish," Haioden said as he got up from the bench. They were in a local park, and it was a beautiful day; it was sort of a shame to leave it.
"If you don't mind me asking, sir, exactly how did you get chosen to tail this diplomat?" Cray asked after about five seconds of excruciating silence. He had been wondering since the Captain had informed him of their plans, but he had been able to keep his curiosity from bubbling over until now.
"Captain Cosmo is convinced that I was once a member of the Tal Shiar."
"Were you?"
Haioden stopped and turned to the man at his side. It was an interesting contrast to any observer, because Haioden was a bit under one hundred years older than Cray. "Whether I was or not, it is not for you to know, nor is it for you to question. We are doing a job, Lt. Whickman. Nothing more."
This was the only time in Cray's limited experience with the elderly Romulan that he had been anything other than the most pleasant person in the galaxy, and it worried him. He decided not to say anymore. Because it was true, they were there to do a job. And he couldn't think of anything more important than figuring out why this woman had changed her mind and doomed the future.
*****
Leaving the bar, Ocala'Dhael turned a corner and ran into another cleaning woman. Excusing herself - she was feeling particularly charitable - Ocala brushed past the maid and headed up to her room. She looked around the room in a paranoid fashion, weary of everything, despite the fact it was inanimate.
Not wanting to trust her surroundings, Ocala conducted a sweep of the room, looking for any bug that with have been left by anyone. She didn't really want to believe that everyone was out to get her, but after today, she didn't know what to think. That cleaning woman downstairs was...different.
Ocala hadn't grown up on Earth, but she knew enough about it to know that Japanese was dead. Really dead. Anyone who knew that language must be crazy, or incredibly smart, or a spy, or an assassin, or a - there went her imagination again.
C'mon Ocala, she gently scolded herself. You're here to stop an agreement from happening between the Federation and the Romulans, not look for spies in all the wrong places!
Walking into the bathroom, Ocala washed her hands in warm water, briefly enjoying the feeling of the liquid pouring over her skin. Drying her hand off, Ocala carefully changed into civilian clothes. Although she was a Romulan born and raised who had rejected that part of her heritage, she still enjoyed wearing the clothes of one. Ocala found them much more comfortable than the jumpsuits and such that were fashionable on Earth. Digging through her suitcases, Ocala pulled out a deep purple tunic and pulled it over her head. It fell to just past her waist. After pulling on flowing black pants that reminded her of yoga clothing, she slipped on some black boots and a cinched a black belt around her waist. Looking into the mirror, Ocala'Dhael surprised herself with how Romulan she really looked. Sure, she had pulled out the shoulder pads, because that was one Romulan fashion she couldn't contend with, but she looked the part. It almost made her feel like a small girl back on Romulus, sitting in her father's estate...
Gathering some work PADDs together, Ocala piled them into a black side bag, along with her communicator and a few book PADDs. The constant reading for preventing this agreement was getting to her, and nothing helped relax her more than pouring over old Earth literature. Choosing carefully, Ocala'Dhael threw in Dante's Inferno.
Just before she left, Ocala turned back and dropped the bag on the bed. Pawing through her things again, she pulled out a small knife, which she concealed beneath the flowing sleeves of the violet tunic. Allowing herself a brief smile, Ocala pushed the sheath up a bit more, and then pulled the sleeve back down. The Starfleet grab normally earned her the respect due, but parading around in the outfit of a native Romulan while there were negotiations afoot could bring about trouble. The only other Romulans she had seen were the dignitaries, and she didn't want to be caught in the middle of something unarmed because of her low appearance. Slinging the black bag over her shoulder again, Ocala headed back downstairs.
On the way, she spotted Tempest, who was looking a little put-off. She tried to brush past him, but he grabbed her arm.
"Ocala, why have you been avoiding me?"
All of the possible responses swirled in her mind: because she was busy, because she didn't want to talk to him, because she was scheming against him. Instead, she chose to remain silent.
"Come on," he said. They started back down towards the bar. When they were finally on the first level, heading towards the establishment, he slowed their pace and struck up the conversation again.
"Ocala, I don't get what's going on with you. Every other diplomatic mission I have ever brought you on, you have always performed admirably. I've never questioned your techniques. Until now." His blue-green eyes bore into hers. She raised her chin so she could meet the gaze right on.
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Postponing the agreement? You must be crazy to let that one slip!"
"No, I believe it was in our best interests. We were being cheated."
"And what does it matter? Peace with the Romulans has been needed for a long time. At what price it comes by is really of no significance. So we gain empty space! At least there will be no warbirds haunting us in the Neutral Zone, no scouts tailing our Galaxy class ships. What price are you willing to put on the people's lives, Ocala?"
Her mind churned with his speech. For a moment, she sympathized with him: it was her duty to Starfleet serve them. But then again, it wasn't what she wanted. She was about to blurt out the unknown to him when a maid came up to Tempest.
"Excuse me, sir. There was an accident in your room with one of the cleaning ladies. We need you to come look..." Tempest tried to hold his anger in as he strode off. As the maid headed off after him, Ocala recognized her as the maid from the bar, the woman who spoke the dead language. And she could have sworn she winked at her. Clearing herself of momentary shock, Ocala continued course to the bar to not get much work done at all.
*****
After an excruciating few hours, Haioden nudged the half asleep Cray. "She's on the move."
The pair followed at a distance, not wanting to be spotted.
*****
Ocala'Dhael was lost deep in thought and was just going where her feet took her when she realized she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. She was back in the hallway where she had first seen the mysterious man from the future. Cursing her lack of focus, she began to turn around.
"Lt. Ocala'Dhael. We meet again."
She turned back. It was the same man as from before. "What do you want? I've sabotaged the treaty. By tomorrow morning we'll all leave. Isn't that enough for you?" Ocala did not appreciate being manipulated by this man, and she felt no qualms about letting him know it.
"I want you to know you're being followed."
*****
"Uh-oh," said Cray. He and Haioden were close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough away to be out of sight.
"I believe that is an understatement, my young friend." Haioden looked pensive for a moment. "I supposed we'll have to play it by ear. Continue scanning that man."
*****
"Followed? Why would anyone follow me?" Ocala pretended to be surprised, but she couldn't help thinking of the strange maid. Maybe she wasn't as paranoid as she thought.
"They would follow you because they are against me. They want the Empire to be destroyed, so they want to thwart me and convince you to the approve the treaty. But you will not do it."
Though Ocala had no intention of changing her mind, she was annoyed enough to ask defiantly, "Why not?"
*****
"Definitely a Quartle, sir."
"So he's the one who messed everything up, eh? Whickman, I am going to subdue him. You send a message to the Empire, then follow her. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Haioden disappeared into the shadows, and Cray was left all alone to carry out his duties.
*****
"You won't because they know I've told you the truth, and they will not try to tell you otherwise."
"Right." Ocala had already lost patience with him. "Thanks for the tip, I'll just be going now." And she turned around and stalked away. Woe be to whomever was following her, because she was in a bad mood.
*****
As the officer walked towards him, Cray found he didn't know what to do. Should he run the other direction and catch up with her later? Should he walk by casually and then turn around? Indecision seized his mind a few moments too long, and he found he had no where to go. It was at this point that he realized the woman was carrying a knife. Mainly because it was at his throat.
"Who are you?" she hissed at him.
"Me? Nobody. Just going down to the supply closet to get some..."
"You are a bad liar, Human. Give me one good reason not to kill you."
Honestly, Cray didn't think she would kill him. But it wasn't a good idea to take chances. He had to act. "Because it would be a tragedy to spoil my good looks?"
She looked at him for a moment, then took the pressure of the *very* sharp knife off of his throat. "You are no threat to me. What is your name?"
"Cray Wickman. You know, just an average everyday guy..."
She hauled him off the wall by means of his shirt and then jabbed her knife into his back lightly. "An average everyday guy who, no doubt, can find someone to vouch for his innocence if we go back to the lobby."
Cray swallowed hard. He didn't think it was the best idea, but he had no choice. "Right. After you." She pushed harder. "Or maybe I'll lead." What would the other officers say? What would the Captain say? What would Karlenn say? He was in trouble.
*****
Keei finished her pizza and watched one of the diplomats pushing some one through the door. She blinked, that wasn't right! The guy was leading the diplomat, yeah that was it...no...it wasn't. Keei sighed.
"Midori to the rescue." She bounced up to them.
"There you are!" She shouted shaking and admonitory finger at the very frightened looking man.
"I sent you out ages ago!" She beamed her brightest smile at the dangerous looking lady behind him.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, He's such a ditz." The lady blinked.
*****
Keei continued to babble. "He didn't bother you, did he? You were only supposed to go to the kitchen to get me a lemonade. How did you get lost doing that?"
Cray decided he had better play along. "I went down the wrong hallway, and then I was confused, and then this lady stopped me." He tried to add with his eyes, with her knife! Unfortunately, it seemed as though Keei missed the unspoken message. Or maybe she didn't care.
"Thanks for finding him. Last time I had to look for him for three hours until I found him on the tenth floor!"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Midori."
"It's okay, dear." She put her hand on his shoulder in comfort and began to lead him away, but Ocala, quiet for the whole exchange, smelled a rat. She stepped in front of them and pointed her knife at Keei.
"I do not believe you."
"Well, I'm sorry about that, but I'm kind of busy..."
"Um. Ms. Midori, I don't know if you know how sharp that knife is..."
"Cray, I've got it. Listen lady, we've got no quarrel with you, so can you please put away the knife?"
"Not until you explain to me why he was spying on me."
Keei turned to Cray, genuinely surprised. Nobody told her anything. "You were spying on her?" She realized he wasn't going to lie to her, so she changed the subject a second later. "Look, I'm sure he was just in the wrong place in the wrong time."
"I heard one of the spies call the other 'Whickman.' You are Whickman, are you not?"
Cray swallowed hard. What was he going to do?
*****
Kinta was cleaning glasses and whistling to himself. Despite his painful injuries, the bartending job was pretty low stress. During the day. He was drying them when Katana came out from backstage.
"Guess what?" she said, a little more than grimly.
"What?" Kinta asked, good mood evaporating.
"Sarah says Haioden didn't check in when he was supposed to. Maybe he and Cray found something." After a moment she added, "We should go look for them."
Kinta hesitated. "I don't think..."
"Don't be so stuffy! C'mon." Katana pushed off from the bar and headed for the door. And then she stopped dead. "Kinta," she whispered, "you'd better come here."
Kinta paled when he saw Keei and Cray being threatened with a knife by the one person they couldn't mess with. "I think we should call Sarah."
"Yes. You do that. I'm going to make sure no one gets killed."
*****
"Keei. Cray. What are you doing out in the middle of the lobby?"
All three turned to look at the formidable Katana. Katana also noticed that behind them at the desk, Aerial was looking mildly terrified as she spoke quickly into a communicator. Looks like she beat Kinta to it, Katana thought to herself. At least they had five of them to handle this diplomat.
"Katana McCoy. You know these two?"
"I do. Why are you threatening them?"
"Because the man was following me."
Katana thought a moment to herself before realizing it was entirely possible that this woman could be a master spy and could smell a lie twenty kilometers away. "Was he? That's not very nice, Cray."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am."
"No apologies to me. I think Lt. Ocala'Dhael is the one who deserves the apology."
"I'm sorry, Lt."
Ocala narrowed her eyes. "I still want to know why."
"And you shall. Why don't you put the knife away, and we can go inside the bar and tell you all about it." Ocala replaced the knife to its hiding place.
"Let's go then."
As they turned to leave, Katana nodded to Aerial, signaling her to come too.
*****
Kinta poured the different drinks in silence as Ocala stared down the others. When he brought them, the woman decided she had already been much to patient. "What are we waiting for?"
"Not what so much as who," Sarah said, startling the woman. She had just beamed down, and she looked like she had just rolled out of bed. A bed in a wind tunnel. "Sorry it took me so long."
"You should have taken a little longer. You're a mess," Katana said bluntly.
"Thank you, Katana. I'll remember that the next time you ask me if I think you look fat." She sat down. "Cray, where is i-Erreah?"
"He went to follow the Quartle, Ma'am."
"He missed the check in. We're... worried." Cray just sat in silence as he let the words sink in.
Ocala took advantage of the silence to butt in. "You are behind this? I knew it."
"Lt., please. You don't know all you think you know."
"I know that you have been spying on me. I know you are no maid. Which means those here probably also are not what they appear to be."
There was a pregnant pause.
"You're right. We're not what you think we are."
Katana grabbed Sarah's arm. "You're not going to tell her?" Sarah's silence was the answer, and Katana let go, determined to trust her captain ever if she had come up with a really bad plan. "Don't blow it."
"Lt. Ocala'Dhael, I am Captain Sarah Cosmo and this is my senior staff." Ocala looked up and noticed a few more faces had appeared rounding the number out to the standard nine. "We work for a Starfleet taskforce that will not exist for another hundred years. If you do not support this treaty, it will never come to exist." Ocala stared on and said nothing. "You don't believe me. Here," she took out a PADD and her small silver ID card. "That proves I am who I say I am and what I just told you."
Ocala carefully scrutinized the ID card, looking for forgery. "Twenty-three sixty-three? Captain, you may be a Vulcan but if you were born in 2363 you would be at least--"
"328 years old. Yes, well, there's an interesting story behind that as well, but you will find my ID to be stamped, watermarked, verified, the works. Read the PADD."
Ocala read, and as she read she realized what trick had been played on her. "That swine."
"Do you understand why we were following you now?" Katana asked. "We needed to understand why you had changed your mind so as to right history again."
Ocala said nothing for a long moment. "But you have just broken the Temporal Prime Directive by telling me this. Aren't you afraid I'll change the future?"
"No, because we know they're going to kill you as soon as we leave," Toru said. All eyes turned to him. "They found Haioden, Captain."
"He's not...?"
"No, he's fine. He was in their base, which happens to be conveniently located in an ion storm. But he heard what he needed to. After the lady diplomat defeated the treaty, they were going to kill her to make sure another one could never be negotiated."
"It's folly to think I'm that important."
"But you are," Keei said. "After I started using the pool for catching tachyons, I found they're different now. Your choice has already rippled out to affect our future."
"You must pass the treaty through, Lt. We will protect you for as long as we are here, but there's no telling how long that's going to be."
"Captain, that man is coming again," Sig said almost casually. The officers began to scatter.
"You mustn't tell Captain Tempest what just happened. We'll be in touch."
*****
Tempest turned the corner, looking for something to stop him from thinking of the perpetual problems with this job. He was a bit surprised to see Ocala sitting all alone.
"What's up?"
"Nothing. Except..." She took a deep breath. "I think we should take this offer."
"What?" Tempest asked, genuinely surprised. "Not that I mind, but why the change?"
"I have given your words thought. You were right."
Tempest stood suddenly. "We're going to the Admiral now before you can change your mind again." He hauled her up by the wrist. As they walked through the lobby, he called to the woman at the front desk, "Get the Romulan delegation up and in the conference rooms. We've got something!"
*****
Tempest dragged Ocala'Dhael up out of her seat, calling to the receptionist to gather the delegation. He started to haul her in the direction of their separate rooms, and then decided that changing into formal robes wasn't a priority at the moment. They ran straight into the Admiral on the way, causing him to stumble back. He was still securing the pips on his uniform.
"Draconis, what is this all about?" Tempest helped the Admiral to regain his balance.
"Well, Admiral, sir, it appears that my Lieutenant here believes that the treaty is a good idea after all." The Admiral squinted at her.
"Is this true?" He laughed. "So, the half-Romulan has come to her senses and stopped protecting her people! This is good. Very good!" Ocala knew he was being good-natured for the sake of the Federation, but his degrading terms enraged her. Instinctively, her hand tightened on the handle of her blade. She was about to withdraw it when Tempest's voice reached her ears, snapping her back to reality.
"Ocala? Aren't you coming?" Tempest was a few meters away, looking at her. The Admiral was still walking down the hall. Forcing a smile, she removed her hand from the knife's hiding place.
"Of course."
*****
"Why now? Why change your mind?" The Romulan was bent over the table, hands splayed on the polished top. The Admiral shrugged.
"We only waited before because a diplomat of ours was not in agreement. However, we have talked it over, and the group believes that there are benefits, so we are now in accord."
For a second, it looked as if the Romulan bought it. He turned towards someone - Ocala couldn't see who - and whispered something. With a nod, he turned back to the Federation delegate.
"We have it on very good authority that this bargain is one sided. Apparently, these programs that you are giving us...are faulty."
Tempest merely raised an eyebrow. The Admiral was much more amusing, standing up so quickly his chair fell.
"I refuse to believe that!"
"We have it all right here." The Romulan slipped a PADD over. With a quavering hand, the Admiral picked it up. He turned towards Ocala'Dhael, mouth opened wide, face beet red.
"Where did they get this?" He hissed. She shrugged her shoulders, hoping it would be enough. Buying it, he turned back towards the Romulan. "You also know that those sectors you are giving us - they're worthless! What's the point of this anymore!" On that note, the Admiral slammed the PADD down and proceeded to pick up his chair and sit down, arms folded. Turning slightly, Ocala whispered into his ear.
"Admiral, I don't know where they received that information, but if we want to hold this thing together, we need to find something to give them. And quick." The Admiral nodded, thinking to himself.
"What if we give you back one sector? Will that be acceptable?"
The Romulan's lips curved in a murderous smile. "As you mentioned yourself, Admiral, it is worthless." Ocala turned towards the Admiral again.
"What about shield modifications? Warp technology?"
"Why are you so anxious to give up our secrets?"
"Admiral, with all due respect, I have a better idea of what's going on right now than you. Please, we need to close this in any way we can!"
And for the second time, the Admiral played off of her instincts.
"What about warp modifications? We could boost your speed up a full warp."
The Romulans considered it carefully. Ocala saw her father rise from the right of the head negotiator. He smiled in her direction. It was rather crooked and looked odd on him. Smiling never was his forte. A team huddle ensued, and they came back 20 minutes later with the verdict.
"We accept."
And as hands were shaken and words shared, Ocala quietly slipped out of the conference hall. Her father, noting his daughter's departure, sent someone after her.
*****
Ocala turned down another hallway. She had lost track of where she was going 10 minutes ago. The feeling that someone was following her prompted Ocala to try and shake him. Where was that group from the future? Of course, they had probably expected her to leave with everyone else, and she had blown it. Deep in thought, Ocala'Dhael ran straight into a wall. She rubbed her eyes once, and then looked to see what direction to go.
Except that they were everywhere.
Five tall Romulans wearing the pips of the Tal Shiar closed in around her, forming a small prison.
And just before she was knocked out, Ocala'Dhael looked up into the hooded eyes of her father.