FOURTEEN: Misinformation

"Ambassador Archer." Thoris greeted the Human who had served to unite the planets in the Coalition. The Human was older than he had been upon their first meeting at the conference which had centered on the possibility of such an alliance; his hair was streaked grey, and the lines on his face were greater in number and more pronounced.

The former Starfleet captain nodded politely, looking as uncomfortable out of uniform as he had when he'd first taken the job as the Terran Ambassador to Andoria. Thoris could respect that –could respect the discomfort of civilian clothes after years of long and loyal service. Now, if only the male were a little less sanctimonious...

"I hear you've promoted Dagmar Gunnarssen to your personal staff, Ambassador." Archer cut to the chase.

It had taken the Human male a long time to learn that Andorians did not care for idle chatter. It was acceptable to greet, to ask if the other was well and if their spouses were well, but –for business- the excessive commentary on aesthetics and unnecessary compliments regarding one's household and one's generosity were... irritating. Those hospitalities were to be expected, after all, and unneeded praise made Andorians suspicious.

Thoris nodded, antennae curved slightly in polite interest while his mind looked for connections and loopholes. "I have; she has proven to be a capable translator."

The Terran's expression –such a strange thing, to look at faces and not antennae for emotional cues!- hardened slightly. "With all due respect, Ambassador, she's never even been off-planet. I am not entirely certain that moving her to Andoria is the best option for her."

The way Thoris glanced at his taller aide, who shrugged with his antennae, told Archer that not only the Andorian had expected a conversation along these lines, but was already rather bored with it. "The female may decline to keep her post, if that is your concern. However, I think you'll find that will not be the case."

Archer frowned, considering this. He had heard a little about this Dagmar Gunnarssen, but not much more than the fact that she was brought into the twenty-third century involuntarily and struggled to fit in. It had been the young woman's counsellor, a middle-aged man with a frosty disposition and a good record with Starfleet, who had expressed some concern over the girl leaving Earth; the experience could prove traumatic to her fragile state of mind, apparently. The Terran Ambassador to Andoria expressed those same concerns to Thoris, explaining his concern that an unfortunate incident could potentially damage relations between their planets if nothing else.

The excuse felt cold, even to Archer, but it needed to be said. If Thoris couldn't be swayed to consider Gunnarssen's mental health, then maybe something a little more impersonal was needed.

The aide offered neutrally, "I and a member of our Security Division have also invited Miss Gunnarssen to visit Andoria, regardless of her posting. She has indicated a tentative acceptance."

"She has?" That was news to Archer; the counsellor has said nothing to him about this. "I wasn't told about this."

Thoris flagged down someone behind the Terran man, and suggested, "Why don't we ask her ourselves?"

Turning, Jonathan Archer found himself face to face with the very woman he'd been so concerned about. He was surprised –she was not at all what he had pictured. Where he had expected some meek, mild young woman, easily intimidated and drawn with grief, he found that the counsellor's descriptions and profile couldn't have been further off. She was tall, for one, and for all appearances could have been anyone's unruly young daughter, with the mussed mane of hair and the too-dark makeup. She didn't walk so much as mosey, shoulders set and back straight, and there was a slant to her eyes that gave the Terran Ambassador the immediate impression of a shrewd sort of intelligence.

Or, rather, that would have been the case if she hadn't staggered unsteadily into the Andorian Ambassador's office, face flushed and out of breath, just barely balancing a stack of PADDs and a newspaper in her arms and looking for all the world like a hunted beast.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" The redhaired woman cried, setting the tower of PADDs down onto a nearby table before doubling over, hands on her thighs to prop her semi-upright , and gulped down air like a drowning man. "I hate" –a gasp for air, and then venom- "reporters!"

Archer immediately offered the girl the chair he had occupied not moments before, which the woman accepted gratefully. Keen eyes noted that she still held onto the folded newspaper.

Thoris' antennae reared slightly as he inquired, "Reporters? What for?"

"Apparently," Gunnarssen began, seeming to have caught her breath. She fidgeted uncomfortably and, after a long and visible struggle with herself, finished, "I'm having some sort of torrid affair with your aide."

Shral's antennae straightened with alarm while Thoris' went momentarily slack with surprise as the redheaded female tossed the newspaper onto the desk, front cover revealed for all to see. Hesitantly, wondering at the can of worms that had been opened here, Archer picked the paper up and read the article out loud. Gunnarssen cringed as he did.

'OFFICE ROMANCE IN THE EMBASSY: Interstellar Romance or Scandal?' the headlines read, the finer print going on to detail that an anonymous source had delivered a recording of an affectionate conversation between the translator, Dagmar Gunnarssen (also known to the public as the unfortunate victim of a modern mad scientist's dream of Warp 10 technology,) and the Andorian Ambassador's right-hand man, whose name was currently to the reporter.

The story became more and more ludicrous as speculations of late night trysts based upon sightings of both Dagmar and several Andorians, including the aide, were listed. Worse, there were sightings of the woman entering the Andorian compound with both the aide and another unknown Andorian male, only to make a highly suspicious departure early in the morning! The reporter speculated on the likelihood of such a romance lasting, given the hypersensitivity towards relations –political or otherwise- with aliens after the Xindi attack as well as conflicts with Terra Prime. Furthermore, was it possible that the young translator had gotten her much sought-after job because of this affair? The implications were gruesome at best, the report finally finished.

"I have never been so completely humiliated." Dagmar confessed with a pained expression before shielding the upper half of her flaming face with her hand –a gesture Thoris had learned meant shame or vexation. This time, he ascertained that the gesture meant the former of the two.

Ambassador Archer grimaced and awkwardly pat the female on the shoulder. Dagmar made a noise of complete and utter misery and buried her face in her hands. That she wasn't crying was a miracle, as far as the Terran man was concerned; give him Romulan conspiracies and near-death experiences any day –just not a hysterical girl!

To his aide, the Andorian demanded, "Is any of this true?"

Shral shook his head, antennae reared backwards –dangerously so- and fists clenched. "Absolutely untrue."

Archer shifted, at once alarmed and extremely uncomfortable with turn of events. The reporter was right about one thing –Humans were still very panicky about aliens, despite politicians trying to say otherwise. If people reacted as badly to the news as he feared... maybe shipping Gunnarssen off to Andoria was a good idea after all.

Out loud, he put forward, "I'll have my people deal with this. That article alone contains a dozen counts of libel and defamation of character, if nothing else."

Ambassador Thoris seemed to have the same thoughts as Archer on the matter of Dagmar's change of residence and, getting the distressed woman's attention with a none-too-subtle cough, he asked with surprising care, "Perhaps now is the time to ask if you are prepared to move to Andoria upon the conclusion of these talks?"

Dagmar was too ashamed and mortified to make eye contact for long –this, the Andorians forgave, despite the inadvertent rudeness- and mumbled (pleaded) only, "Can we go now?"

Thoris signalled for Shral and murmured something in a dialect the UT didn't know. Shral responded in kind and Archer fought not to make a rude comment about speaking in other languages in front of people who didn't understand. Shral nodded curtly, executed a bow from the shoulders, and left the room without another word, antennae nearly flat against his skull and eyes flinty and cold.

To the lone Terran male in the room, the Andorian Ambassador revealed, "Shral will arrange an escort for Miss Gunnarssen; we will move her temporarily into the Andorian compound."

Counter-intuitive, Archer thought. The redheaded woman didn't respond to this news, he noted. Then again, being what she was, the translator had probably understood most of that exchange between the Ambassador and his aide. "Somehow, I don't think moving her closer into the place where all of these alleged encounters took place will help, Ambassador."

The Ambassador stood then, saying nothing in response and watching silently as Shral returned with two Andorians wearing the dark uniform of the Andorian Imperial Guard. One of them –a lieutenant, Archer indentified after peering at the uniform for a long moment- stepped forwards and murmured something into Gunnarssen's ear, placing a blue hand on her shoulder. The gesture made Jonathan nervous in that it could easily have been misconstrued by anyone who didn't understand the Andorians' lack of a concept of personal space.

Whatever the lieutenant said, Dagmar released a shaky breath and stood, bowing with averted eyes to the Ambassador, and then to Shral, and offering her own planet's Ambassador little more than a distracted nod before allowing the lieutenant and the other security officer to lead her away.

"Lieutenant Thelen is a friend of Miss Gunnarssen," Thoris explained after the trio had left. The aide returned to his post, behind and a little to the left of the Ambassador, and if he was any calmer for leaving the room, if was only fractionally. "Indeed, it seems most of my staff and security escort know her to some degree or another."

Jonathan nodded, revealing, "Her counsellor told me that Miss Gunnarssen finds it easier to relate to alien cultures than it is to relate to other Humans at this stage."

Shral's antennae lashed slightly in confusion but said nothing. If Archer hadn't been paying attention, he might have missed it.

"Given the incident we witnessed earlier this month," Thoris's voice was as cold as the planet he came from. "This is not surprising."

Archer grimaced, internally. News of the confrontation with Randal Fox had spread quickly, and it had mortified Earth's government officials. Fox was currently being investigated, but so far nothing had come up.

As it was, the Terran Ambassador rescinded his earlier comments about travelling being a potentially negative experience for Gunnarssen.

"Good," Thoris nodded. "Because we would have taken her with us regardless of your opinion."

At Archer's startled expression, the Andorian continued tersely, "An attack on a member of my personal staff is an attack on myself, Ambassador, and an affront against Andoria. You will deal with this reporter and you will salvage this situation, or there will be consequences!"

It was with grit teeth that Jonathan Archer agreed to do his best and turned on the heel of his boot to stalk out of the Embassy. Tolerating the Ambassador's arrogance as a sign of respect had never been an easy task for him –especially after Trip's death.

If he hadn't helped Shran...

It was a bitter, angry thought, one that festered slowly underneath a diplomatic facade. It was just as well that he hadn't run into the Andorian commander; Jonathan didn't want to know what he'd do if he did.

Whatever the case, Shran had had the good sense to stay out of contact, and Archer preferred it that way.