Excerpt from a classified report from Lieutenant Mark Fischer, Federation Operative placed with the troops of the exiled Romulan Commander Sela.
I believe Commander Sela has found allies in her bid for power. The artificial quantum singularities we were able to track seem to have been left by a species we’ve never encountered before. Commander Sela managed to contact them and begin some sort of negotiations.
I had further indications of some sort of potential alliance three nights ago, when T’los and I were guarding Commander Sela’s quarters. T’los, as Sela’s right hand man, rarely acts as a simple guard. When he joined me, he told me to expect visitors.
“Don’t say anything,” he told me. “I will greet them. But keep your weapon ready. They are not a peaceful people, from what the Commander has gathered.”
They were also not a small people! The visitors showed up twenty minutes past Makar midnight. Our border guards brought them in, and they towered over the guards. I was put in mind of a targ being herded by a house cat. Any one of our visitors could have easily backhanded a guard into unconsciousness.
They wore corrugated black armor and masks that partially obscured their faces.
“Welcome to Makar,” T’los bowed when they arrived.
They just stared down at him without saying anything.
“Commander Sela awaits you inside, if you’d please set aside your weapons before entering,” he continued.
The one in the lead narrowed his eyes. “We will not unarm,” he said. “No hunter ever goes without his weapons at the request of prey.”
“I cannot allow you into Commander Sela’s presence with those weapons,” T’los insisted. “I will keep them here, safe for you. No one will touch them. You may trust me.”
The leader laughed, looking back at his men. “It asks us to offer it trust!”
At that point T’los put his hand on his disruptor. “You will give me your weapons.”
I suspect, at that point, the exchange would have degenerated into outright fighting, except Commander Sela came out.
“Gentlemen, please,” she said, putting one hand on T’los’ shoulder. “Naturally, we would never require that hunters of your stature disarm. We know we can trust you, don’t we?” She kept her eyes steady and focused on the leader.
After a moment, he nodded to her. “Of course.”
“And you will have no objections to my guards remaining with us and remaining armed. After all, as the leader of my people I must take proper precautions.”
Somehow she had them all dancing to her tune. They followed her in without further complaint, as did the Romulan guards. T’los and I remained on guard at the door.
I was surprised to see T’los smiling, no signs of his earlier anger left at all.
“That went well,” he told me. “That went exactly as we’d hoped. You’ll see, soon enough.”
Soon enough, another guard came to relieve T’los and he joined in the conversation in Commander Sela’s quarters.
I don’t know what was said. By the time I was relieved of my shift, they were still talking and our visitors had shown no intentions of leaving.
The following day Commander Sela was nowhere to be seen, but T’los was giving orders and directing our native “servants” in the mining effort. When the Commander appeared again the following day, she seemed fired up. Her body language had completely changed. Her shoulders were no longer so tense, nor was she as frequent to lash out at those of us serving her. In fact, infractions that normally would have earned her displeasure only merited a laugh. I have never seen her so cheerful.
I don’t know what her next move will be, but I’m certain, even in exile, that she hasn’t given up on taking over the Romulan Empire.