The stately office is more simple than I would have expected, though it still manages to exude an almost tangible air of importance. Hues of deep brown throughout the room cause light from the windows to dim significantly before reaching the center. Candles with real, not simulated fire are placed sporadically throughout, and cause shadows to dance along the walls. I realize the space is only a little bigger than my apartment's living room, yet the high ceiling adds a depth that makes it feel larger than it is. The back wall has sunken bookshelves displaying both written and crafted works from many different worlds. One shelf in particular catches my eye. It displays an expertly sculpted, ornate vase. The piece twists upwardly in elegant fashion, flanked on each side by blue and gold flakes. It's a beautiful contrast to the rustic feel that the rest of the room carries.
In the center of the office sits the Head Ambassador. A high ranking official of another species may be found sitting behind a large desk in a similar setting, but not a Vulcan. There's no desk to be found here. Instead, in traditional fashion, Sylik sits on the floor. He's meditating, and rests on a thin pillow only a few inches thick. Around him are three other identical pads, forming a tight circle. All this works together to create a very intimate setting.
The ambassador's personal guard closes the door behind us, and begins to escort me slowly into the room.
I find myself feeling nervous again, my confidence draining like the sunlight disappearing into the dark oak floors. I've seen ambassador's offices before and should've known what to expect, so why do I still find myself becoming uncomfortable? Perhaps it's the anticipation of sitting criss-cross-applesauce in front of an important official that's driving up these feelings. I laugh a little at the thought, cutting myself some slack and bringing my nerves back in check.
Apparently familiar with human customs, the alien man stands to greet me. Though I've seen glimpses of him before, I'm still surprised by his height. I know it's cliche to say that I thought he'd be taller… but it's true. You would expect a man of his gravitas to be larger than life. Instead, he's the shortest Vulcan I've ever seen. Even at his full height, he would barely come up to my collarbone were we to stand next to each other.
I catch my wandering thoughts before they go too far. Out of respect for him, I do my best to not let my shock appear on my face; a task that isn't so hard once I remember who I'm looking at.
I've now reached a point just outside the circle, and my security escort has begun to walk back to his post alongside the door. Not sure what else to do, I stand silently and wait for Sylik to make the first move.
Without looking at me, he places his hands together and bows in a courteous manner. Once reaching his lowest point, he remains there; an obvious sign that I am to return the gesture before we get started. I do, and he motions for me to take a seat at the mat across from him in the circle.
I cram my tall, lanky frame uncomfortably onto the pad before looking up at the Vulcan ambassador. The man's tan skin appears to dim a shade as he lowers himself elegantly onto the dark floor. His brown, emotionless eyes study me for a minute. It's always hard to tell what someone of his species is thinking in moments like these, so I force myself to not even try and guess. I remain still on the pad, and patiently return a gaze. After a long moment, he speaks.
"Officer Rularen, I have requested to speak with you today to ask for your assistance".
Typical of most Vulcans, he's wasting no time with small talk and is getting straight to the point. Usually, I appreciate their straightforward approach. This time, however, I would've been fine with a little ice breaking before plunging right into the arctic.
He needs my assistance? I'm intrigued to say the least. My mind begins to evaluate all different kinds of possibilities. What could the Head Ambassador possibly need with me?
I nod in acknowledgment, breathlessly urging him to continue.
"A member of my personal security division has unexpectedly fallen ill. The nature of this illness has rendered him unable to participate in a sensitive negotiation that will be occurring tomorrow afternoon. Normally in these circumstances, I would call upon a member of our team's reserves to take his place. However, due to potential security concerns surrounding this meeting, I have already activated our reserves and given them their own assignments; which leaves this officer's position unoccupied".
Understanding comes to me as the ambassador elaborates. I beam inwardly as I begin to realize the magnitude of the opportunity I'm about to be given. It sounds like he's about to offer me a position among his personal security force. If I'm right and I do get to replace this officer, even temporarily, it'll be the chance of a lifetime. High level Federation officials such as Sylik only ever invite the most elite and capable people they can find to act as their personal protectors. Add to those impossible qualifications that many squads are only ten people at most, and it's not hard to see how minuscule your chances of participating are, even if you do happen to be qualified.
I can't believe my luck. It's unfortunate that the Ambassador's officer has fallen ill at such a critical time, but this man's misfortune may just prove to be my shot at the big leagues.
Sylik validates my thoughts as he continues, "I have been aware of you for quite some time now, Officer Rularen. Your qualifications far exceed that of other candidates, and I believe you to be the best suited for this mission. Therefore, I would like to extend you a provisional position of Embassy Officer, Rank One and ask that you join us tomorrow to assist in protecting the negotiations. Do you accept?"
Warm pride flows through me as I sincerely confirm, "Yes, sir. I would be honored to join you".
"Excellent", replies the man I have now accepted a responsibility to protect. "Effective immediately, your security clearance will be updated to Rank One, subcategory B. Report to Officer Lyedean", the ambassador gestures to the man behind me, "at 0430 tomorrow morning in the shuttle bay."
"Will do, thank you sir" I acknowledge.
There's a pause, and silence once again fills the air. For me, it gives me a moment to catch my breath. I consider finishing our conversation with that and taking my leave, but a question lingers. It begins bouncing around in my mind, almost like I had just inherited a child's thoughts following a parent's explanation to their question.
My question is, "why"? Why was I selected? What qualifications did I achieve in the Ambassador's eyes to be chosen for this? How did I catch his attention? Why has he been aware of me "for some time now"? Surely there are other candidates from my department that would be worth consideration, let alone who they could have found had they outsourced beyond the Embassy's personnel.
Perhaps these thoughts are coming from a childish desire to receive more praise, everyone loves praise after all, but I think it's more than that. Perhaps it's a desire to improve?
No.
I realize, with a little embarrassment for my hyperactive imagination, that it's coming from a place of mistrust. Can I really blame myself though? A life changing opportunity that's likely more rare than winning the Infinipol lottery just randomly lands in my lap? I can't help but have a few hard-wired red alert sirens sound in my brain for this one. I want to know what he knows about me. Perhaps even more importantly, I want to see how much he knows. As irrational as these instincts may seem, they have safe guarded me many times in the past. Therefore, I make the decision to move forward with my inquiry, though I make a conscious effort to reduce my suspicion and counteract it with an increase in curiosity.
"Sir, if I may", I continue, "I first want to say again that I'm very humbled to have been chosen as your newest Rank One guard. Though, I'm curious Ambassador, why was I chosen to fill this role? Surely you must have other qualified candidates?"
The Vulcan shows no signs of surprise to my question, of course, but he does take a moment to articulate a response.
Sylik begins his recounting with, "I first learned of your competencies through an acquaintance at the Starfleet Academy graduation this past December. This Admiral knew of your position at the Embassy, and asked if I had met you. He also took many opportunities to boast of your service to the Federation during your time in the fleet. At the time of our conversation, I was unaware of any former Starfleet officers in service at the embassy. Upon further research, I found that my knowledge was incomplete because your military service had been excluded from your applications and interviews to the embassy".
The Ambassador is right. During my application process to the embassy, I chose not to include any notes about my history with the Federation's military. I realized it had the potential to hurt my acceptance into the embassy, but I wanted to see if I was capable of making something of myself without the weight of Starfleet holding me down. I'm sure excluding it made their decision harder, but apparently my interviews went well enough to justify a place with the embassy staff despite the gap in my resume.
Sylik continues his story by saying, "I found this lack of transparency very curious and requested your files from Starfleet Headquarters. They complied, but my curiosity was compounded when most of your files were redacted to a higher security clearance than even I had access to. I concluded that you withheld the information from embassy staff in an attempt to minimize potential security risks to the Federation".
His interpretation is not totally wrong, though it does lack the consideration of human emotion and our tendency to make illogical decisions. I knew that withholding the knowledge of my service would make accidentally leaking classified information much less likely. Kind of the same idea as setting a fragile object on the ground so you can't knock it off a higher surface and break it. It's certainly true that the less people who know and can ask me questions about what I've sworn to keep secret, the better. At the end of the day though, the real reason was I just simply didn't want to talk about my past.
Despite my thoughts, the Ambassador continues with his account. "Some information on your file was left available, however, that further piqued my interest. Though you didn't progress past the rank of Lieutenant, your records indicate several letters of commendation and much higher annual test scores than I would anticipate for a human officer".
I try not to take offense to that last part.
"These records," he continues, "seemed to indicate that you were a capable man who, despite having his own reasons for leaving Starfleet, was a trustworthy and respected officer. If they had a high esteem for you and your abilities, then it would be logical for me to incur that same regard in my own organization". The vulcan then pauses, as he believes he has satisfactorily answered my question.
This is all very fascinating, and while I do love hearing myself being praised by a high level Ambassador, I still have unanswered questions. My next being who the Admiral was that hyped up my service to Sylik. I don't recall working very closely with any during my time as an officer, and my interactions with Admirals at the academy were always very brief.
Despite this lingering question, however, the suspicions I held before have mainly been reconciled. This all sounds like a pretty logical explanation to me. Add that to the fact that it's coming from one of the most respected people of a species known for brutal honesty, and I don't have many reasons to remain skeptical. I plan on doing my best to sound thankful rather than inquisitive throughout the rest of our interaction.
"Thank you Ambassador," I reply, genuinely grateful for his explanation. "I appreciate your confidence in me. I trust that my service to you will be beyond satisfactory. If I may ask one more question of you, who was the Admiral you conversed with at the graduation ceremony that spoke so highly of me?"
"He said his name was Admiral Nayzak, your former Captain aboard the Uss Okami", the Ambassador replied coolly.
A short, involuntary sip of air enters my lungs. I freeze briefly and look through the Vulcan as if he has just summoned the boogeyman. Nayzak was not a name I was prepared to hear today.
Regardless, I am extremely surprised at my reaction. I am not often caught off guard in ways that cause physical reactions to escape me. I pride myself in being a stone faced actor; I usually make it tougher for my true feelings to show than it is for a snake to beat a kangaroo in a boxing match. I knew that my ex-captain had become a sore subject for me, but being surprised like this allowed me to truly sense the depth of my emotion. My frustration and anger towards him still linger as strongly today as they did several years ago. And to hear that he's been promoted? After all he did? It's almost too much for me.
I suddenly feel the need to change the subject. I'm annoyed at myself for sabotaging such a fruitful line of questioning, but I am obviously not prepared to continue and need to retreat for now. I will not allow this to happen again.
"That's great" I stammer, trying to quickly cover my involuntary reaction. I imagine Sylik noticed this turmoil, but he doesn't mention it after I ask him about the negotiations, and why there are such security concerns.
"We are approaching a pivotal time in the Federation," the Ambassador explains, immediately sobering me up from my near emotional tailspin. "The Dominion is aggressively acquiring trade routes and property in the Alpha Quadrant. It is likely they hope to establish a strong presence here, and there is reason to believe that they will begin to outperform the Federation if they are allowed to do so".
My knowledge of galactic politics has become somewhat limited over the past few years, yet I've still heard of the Dominion. They are a powerful government that hails from literally the other side of the galaxy. We've only recently made contact with them, however, as a one of a kind stable wormhole just opened near a Federation space station. This has made trips that used to take decades become a simple afternoon jaunt. It was seen as a great opportunity initially, but the Dominion has quickly garnered a reputation of being aggressive among the Federation populace. There are even unconfirmed rumors that they attacked and destroyed a large Galaxy Class starship while it was on the Gamma Quadrant side of the wormhole. If true, more than a thousand personnel would have likely perished with it. Unfortunately, Starfleet will probably never confirm those allegations as it could lead to a pro war movement igniting across the Alpha Quadrant. And if there is one thing I learned from my time in the Fleet, it's that they are not prepared for a prolonged conflict, nor are they willing to become prepared.
I acknowledge the Ambassador's initial explanation, and allow him to continue.
"Their expansionist policies have recently led them here to the Sol system".
"Really?" I emphasize. "They are being that bold?"
"Indeed" replies the Ambassador seriously. "They have been in negotiations with the Lowlands shipping center on Mars. It seems that this location is being heavily persuaded to change their trade commodities. This would divert the products they are currently receiving from Vulcan to those of Dominion import. As this site is the primary port for Vulcan goods in this system, a great deal of strain will undoubtedly be placed upon the suppliers of those commodities as they attempt to find another avenue to handle their exports. Surely you can now see the importance of these negotiations, and why despite my preference for pacifism, a cohesive security force is necessary".
"Yes sir" I agree. "We can't allow the Dominion to get a foothold this close to our home territory, and we need to keep you safe to have an opportunity of accomplishing that".
The Ambassador softly nods his head in agreement.
My mind flashes back to the Martian trade worker I profiled near the turbolifts just prior to this meeting. (I allow just a small gush of pride to flow through me as I realize I almost got him spot on. Maybe I still have it after all!) He's probably here to finish last minute talking points and finalize meeting arrangements for the negotiations tomorrow. The Dominion must be trying to rush this deal through. Otherwise, why would he show up here without changing out of his uncomfortable work gear first? I bet they are pushing the tempo like this in an attempt to elicit more mistakes to occur on our end. Little do they know they're working against a one hundred plus year old Vulcan who has probably been serving as a high stakes negotiator longer than they've been alive. I'm anxious to see how this turns out.
By this point, I imagine I've taken enough of the Ambassador's time. I thank him again for his appointment, and for his willingness to answer my questions. We stand, bow slightly, and then I begin to walk towards the door.
I pause as I'm about halfway through the room, and turn again to face Sylik who has remained standing above his cushion politely watching me leave.
"Sir," I begin hesitantly, "May I ask where the receptionist you usually have in your lobby is today? She usually remains near you at all times, isn't that correct?"
"You are correct," the young looking old man replies, "She has unfortunately been called home and requested a temporary leave. It is unclear when she will return to her duties".
"If I may suggest sir," I continue more confidently, "I know someone in the embassy who would be a capable replacement for her, if you are still in need".
"Who would you recommend?" the ambassador asks.
"Androma, the woman I typically serve alongside at the front desk. I believe you would find her to be more than capable as a replacement, sir".
"Your recommendation is noted officer," Sylik replies, "Her qualifications will be looked into".
"Thank you Ambassador" I say, once again turning towards the door.
Officer Lyedean, who has been standing motionless in the corner for most of this exchange, meets me at the door and holds it open for me to walk through. I look down slightly to make eye contact and nod my head as a thanks for the courtesy.
Overall, his appearance is pretty average. He's human, and probably around 182 cm in height. He has a masculine, yet slim build that accentuates an "in shape" physique. His face is toned, and he keeps his blonde hair swept neatly to the side. The man's eyes, however, unsettle me a little. They seem to be sunken in and glossed over. It gives me a brief "uncanny valley" feeling, but I shake it off and tell myself not to be rude. He's now my superior officer, and I'll be working with him closely. I better get used to those beady little peepers now and not allow myself to have a similar reaction next time I see him.
I head through the lobby, look out the window at the view one last time, and then take the turbolift to the main floor.
On my way out the door, I make eye contact with Androma. She's busy, so I don't approach her, but I do give her an emphasized thumbs up to let her know that the visit with Sylik went well. She acknowledges my victory with an expressionless nod and then returns to her work. I laugh to myself. Making friends with a Vulcan is not easy, but it's hard to complain when you're making progress.
Walking out the doors and into the now bustling San Francisco morning, I finally feel the exhaustion hit me. Time to get home and sleep before the big day tomorrow.