Matters of Security Part II

Posted on 242602.22 @ 10:50pm by erie'Arrain Nniol tr'Rehu & Riov Rhaego tr'Neyl & Arrain Vaurek tr'Valdore
Edited on on 242602.22 @ 10:54pm

2,350 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Penumbra
Location: Multiple
Timeline: 11 Days Previous

[IRW Aylhr, Flight Deck]

Rhae’go stepped onto the Aylhr’s flight deck to find it alive with activity. Two days earlier the warbird had received its newest complement of fighters, and the hangar had not been quiet since.

Young erie’Arrain tr’Rehu had presented himself almost immediately, requesting permission to test several of the new models “to ensure optimal operational efficiency.” Rhae’go had suspected the true motivation lay elsewhere. After several days assisting Arrain tr’Khalin with diagnostics and system calibrations, the young pilot had likely grown restless. Still, there had been no complaints from engineering and no reports of insubordination. That alone was worth rewarding. Rhae’go had granted him clearance.

Now, however, he required tr’Rehu for something far less entertaining. He would be descending to Ch’Rihan to visit the late Senator tr’Parneas’ widow and examine the senator’s private study. tr’Valdore would accompany him. They would travel in one of the ship’s bombers and Nniol would pilot.

Beyond his skill at the controls, there was another advantage. The presence of the Galae’EnRiov’s son would lend weight to the visit. Influence carried currency in the Empire, whether one believed in it or not. Rhae’go found the politics tiresome, but he was not foolish enough to ignore their utility.

He spotted tr’Rehu near the line of fighters, laughing with a small cluster of the Aylhr’s pilots. Whatever joke had been shared died the moment they noticed him. The group snapped to attention with crisp efficiency. Tr’Rehu followed a little later, just a fraction slower, just a shade less rigid. Still annoyed, perhaps. Rhae’go allowed himself the faintest smirk. No, young Rehu. You will not find this posting easy. He stopped before them, hands clasped loosely behind his back. “All is well?” he asked evenly, his gaze sweeping the group.

Nniol offered one of his loose, careless shrugs, the kind that suggested things were tolerable, if not ideal. He still carried a faint edge of irritation at having been placed under tr’Khalin’s supervision. It wasn’t that he disliked the engineer. In fact, he respected the man’s competence. But tr’Khalin always seemed to have another task waiting for him. Repair a console here. Recalibrate a communications panel there. Crawl through the elements-cursed waste recyclers to trace a faulty short. At least that system hadn’t been active.

He had done it all without complaint. Quietly. Efficiently. Even diligently. Because he knew the fighters were coming. Placate the new Riov, prove he could behave, and he would be allowed near them. Push too hard, too soon, and he suspected he would remain tr’Khalin’s assistant indefinitely, primary pilot in title only. That, more than the maintenance work, was motivation enough.

He straightened slightly and offered a faint smirk. “Everything is fine, Riov,” Nniol said. “Is there something we can do for you?”

“We? No. You? Yes. Follow.” Rhae’go didn’t wait for acknowledgment. He turned and strode across the flight deck toward one of the ship’s bombers, its dark hull reflecting the overhead lights in muted green tones. A moment later, he heard Nniol fall into step just behind him. “I’m taking a bomber down to Ch’Rihan,” Rhae’go said without breaking stride. “You’ll be piloting. I’ll provide the coordinates once we’re underway.”

Nniol studied the back of his commander’s shoulders, suspicion flickering briefly across his features. He was half tempted to ask why, half tempted to push, just to see what would happen. Instead, he gave a small nod. “Understood, Riov.”

Vaurek tr’Valdore arrived at the flight deck precisely three minutes ahead of the scheduled departure. The transition from the quiet, archived atmosphere of the Deck 9 library to the controlled chaos of the hangar was a shift he processed with a singular, scanning glance.

The air here tasted of ionized fuel and the sharp, metallic tang of recent welding, the scent of a ship being pushed into operational readiness. To his left, the new complement of fighters stood in rigid rows, their hulls gleaming under the harsh overheads. Vaurek’s eyes lingered on them only long enough to assess their placement; his focus was on the personnel.

He spotted the Riov near a cluster of pilots. Vaurek did not approach immediately, choosing instead to maintain a professional distance that allowed him to observe the dynamic. He noted the way the pilots snapped to attention, efficient, if a bit green, and the slight, lingering lag in the youngest one’s posture. Nniol tr’Rehu. The son of the Galae’EnRiov. Vaurek’s mental file on the pilot updated: High-status lineage. High-skill potential. Questionable discipline.

As Rhae’go turned and began the brisk stride toward the designated bomber, Vaurek made his way across the flight deck towards them. He moved with a silent, economical gait that contrasted with the pilot’s looser, more restless energy. He reached them just as the pair arrived at the Bomber. “Rekkhai.” He said to Rhae’go.

Looking past tr’Rehu to the officer standing just beyond him, Rhae’go inclined his head. “Good. Welcome, Arrain.” He gestured toward Nniol. “This is Erie’Arrain tr’Rehu, the Aylhr’s primary pilot.” Then, turning slightly, he indicated the other officer. “Erie’Arrain tr’Valdore, this is Arrain Vaurek tr’Valdore, our new Chief of Security.”

His gaze moved between them only briefly. “Let us get underway.” Without further ceremony, Rhae’go turned and boarded the bomber.

[Bomber Ourai]

Nniol offered tr’Valdore a courteous nod, more restrained than his usual greetings, before following Rhae’go inside. He moved naturally toward the forward station and lowered himself into the pilot’s seat as if it had been built for him alone. His fingers brushed across the controls, familiar and deliberate, activating the bomber’s systems in practiced sequence. The engines stirred to life beneath them, a deep, resonant hum building through the hull as power flowed into the drive core.

The forward display polarized, the hangar coming into sharp view through the now-transparent plating. The flight deck lay before them, open and waiting. Nniol rested his hands lightly on the controls.

“Whenever you’re ready, Riov,” he said evenly, eyes fixed ahead. “I’ll take us out.”

Vaurek boarded the craft, his hand instinctively checking the seal on his sidearm holster. He took his position in the cabin, eyes fixed on the forward viewscreen as the hangar atmosphere began to pump out. To anyone watching, he was a statue of Romulan professionalism.

Rhae’go gave a slight nod from the bomber’s compact command seat, positioned just behind the pilot and operations consoles. “You may bring us out,” he said evenly. He tapped the console built into his armrest. “I’m transmitting our destination coordinates now.”

“Understood,” Nniol replied. His fingers moved fluidly over the controls as systems synchronized. Behind them, the rear hatch began to seal with a low hydraulic hiss. He opened a channel. “Aylhr, this is the bomber Ourai, requesting clearance to depart.”

A sharp departure tone echoed across the flight deck. Technicians and pilots moved quickly away from the hangar’s central threshold as the massive outer doors began to retract. Beyond them, the luminous curve of Ch’Rihan filled the void, emerald oceans and fractured continents glowing beneath Eisn’s distant light.

“You are cleared to depart, Ourai.”

A solid thud reverberated through the hull as the rear hatch locked into place.

Nniol eased the bomber upward. The vessel rose cleanly from the deck, then glided forward with predatory grace toward the open maw of the hangar. Just before reaching vacuum, they passed through the shimmering emerald containment field, its surface rippling briefly around the hull. Space swallowed them.

Nniol glanced at the coordinates now overlaying his display. His brow lifted slightly. “Setting approach vector for Ahai,” he said. A pause. “Notifying the Ch’Rihan traffic net. Shall I allow them to guide us in?”

“No,” Rhae’go answered calmly. “We’ll require priority clearance through Galae Command. Inform them to clear a path.”

Nniol let out a soft breath through his nose. “They won’t appreciate that,” he said lightly, finding the irony difficult to ignore after their earlier arrival stunt. He adjusted their trajectory with minute corrections. After a moment, curiosity won out. “If you don’t mind my asking, Riov… why are we visiting the tr’Parneas estate?”

Rhae’go glanced toward tr’Valdore. “Arrain. Brief him.”

Vaurek didn't shift his posture as the Ourai cleared the Aylhr’s containment field, but his gaze moved from the void of space to the back of tr’Rehu’s flight suit. He let a beat of silence hang—long enough to signal that the information was a privilege, not a conversational right.

"Arrain tr’Rehu," Vaurek began, his voice cutting through the hum of the sublight engines with a flat, clinical tone. "We are on a high-priority criminal investigation. Senator tr’Parneas is dead." He paused, watching the pilot's silhouette for any break in concentration. "The official narrative is not yet public. To the Galae and the Senate, he is 'unreachable.' In reality, he was assassinated on Eternity. The Riov and I are tasked with conducting a secondary sweep of his private study in Ahai."

Vaurek leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he mentally reviewed the mission parameters. "Our objectives are twofold: The Tal’Diann has already processed the site. We are there to find anything they may have missed or chose to overlook. We are also seeking the true motive for the Senator’s 'secret' pilgrimage to Alpha Eridani. His family claims it was a personal visit to his sons graves; Command is concerned there may be more."

“tr’Parneas is dead?” Rhae’go’s brow furrowed as he studied the console display. He had known the senator in passing during his childhood. Men like tr’Parneas had been frequent guests at his family’s estate, voices in long corridors, silhouettes in candlelit chambers. The senator had always carried himself with the quiet gravity of a man who had already endured too much. Nniol had always found the deaths of his sons on Eternity during the last Federation–Romulan war as extremely tragic. And now he had died on that same world. The irony unsettled him more than he cared to admit. “How terrible,” he said quietly.

The bomber shuddered as the first tendrils of atmosphere clawed at the hull. Blue-white friction flared along the periphery of the viewer as they began their descent. “We are entering the atmosphere,” Nniol reported. He reviewed the latest transmission from the traffic net and allowed himself a faint smirk. “Traffic control is displeased,” he said evenly. “But they are clearing a corridor for us.”

The bomber angled steeply downward, slicing through cloud cover toward Ahai, the city that lay just beyond the capital of I’Ramnau. At first it appeared as a pale cluster amid vast stretches of green. Gradually, towers resolved from the landscape spiraling structures of stone and marble, rising in elegant defiance of gravity.

Nniol adjusted their vector, bringing them down well short of the urban center, toward one of the great estates that lined the outer edge of the city. There, amid sweeping grounds and manicured gardens, stood the tr’Parneas estate. It was a vast structure of ancient stone and polished marble, its architecture older than the small ship that now descended toward it.

Nniol brought down the Ourai just off the center pavilion of the estate. He could already see a small crowd of servants and guards moving from the estate to greet them. He brought the bomber’s engines offline and then activated the opening mechanism for the rear hatch.

Rhae’go rose from his seat. “I realize this should go without saying, erie’Arrain,” he began evenly, “but what you have just learned is of the utmost secrecy. You are not to repeat it to anyone.” His gaze held Nniol’s for a deliberate moment. “As part of my command team, you are entitled to the information. In return, I expect discretion.” With that, he stepped down the bomber’s rear ramp.

The estate grounds stretched wide before them: immaculate lawns, ancient stone terraces, and towering trees lining the approach. Waiting near the base of the ramp was the senator’s widow. She was younger than Rhae’go had expected. Her features were sharp, almost regal, framed by dark raven hair that caught the sunlight in subtle blue undertones. She wore flowing robes of deep violet Tholian silk that shimmered faintly as they shifted in the breeze, the fabric alive with light.

“Riov tr’Neyl,” she greeted, her tone composed, measured warmth overlaying something harder beneath. “I was not informed of the full nature of your visit. The Galae merely indicated you would be arriving. I assume we will speak in my husband’s stu—” Her voice faltered as her eyes lifted to the bomber ramp.

Nniol emerged into the sunlight.

Recognition dawned. “Nniol tr’Rehu,” she said softly. “You have grown, child. I did not realize you would be accompanying the Riov.” She inclined her head toward a nearby servant. “Prepare refreshments for our guests. Have them set in the senator’s study.”

Nniol bowed respectfully.

“It is an honor to see you again, Lady Ereila t’Parneas. I am deeply sorry to hear of the de-”

A sharp jab to his ribs cut him off. He stiffened, catching Rhae’go’s warning glance.

Right. Classified. Nniol reminded himself.

Ereila’s gaze lingered between them, a faint crease forming at her brow. Whether she noticed the interruption or simply chose not to comment was impossible to tell. “Please,” she said at last, turning toward the estate. “Follow me. I will show you to my husband’s study.”

[To be continued]

Riov Rhae'go tr'Neyl
Commanding Officer
IRW Aylhr

Arrain Vaurek tr'Valdore
Chief of Security
IRW Aylhr

erie'Arrain Nniol tr'Rehu
Lead Pilot
IRW Aylhr

 

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