Sold Souls

Posted on Wed Nov 19th, 2025 @ 1:31pm by Ambassador Drusilla Creon & Consul T'Lath

1,385 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: UnderMind [4]
Location: N'Taan, Aventine Subsector (15LY from DS13)
Timeline: MD01 - Afternoon (local time)

“Ambassador, Drusilla, my dear. It warms my cold black heart to see you again after all this time.” Consul T’Lath said as he embraced her boldly. He was a man both fascinatingly ugly and theatrical, his confidence gave him a strange charisma.

“Yes. I must first apologise for.. the unpleasantness of my retirement from Starfleet, after I had vowed to defend your subsector. It may have come as a shock to you. I am honoured that I have regained your trust.” Creon returned the hug without as much enthusiasm, but he was a particularly enthusiastic Romulan.

“Your trust was never lost, dear girl. What you did you did for the people of Romulus. And we were still well-defended. That is honour. True Romulan honour, not that nonsense Klingons go on about.” He put his hands on her shoulders supportively as he released her from the hug, before turning away and leading her forward. “Now, come. We must talk.”

“Your people were not forthcoming when I asked what this was about.” Creon admitted.

“No, at my instruction. Perhaps it’s the old Tal Shiar dog in me, but I won’t speak outside my study, we must be in range of the nullifier. This cannot get out prematurely.” He led her down the ornate hallways of the Consular palace.

“As you wish, Consul.” Creon said, following him at pace.

“Here we are.” He said, turning into a room that was apparently his study, though it more resembled a workshop at one end of its rectangular length, and a conference room at the other. There was also a desk and seat at the head of the room, with a view of the conference table and workshop areas, slightly raised to give him a heightened view of all. He took a seat behind his desk, and offered the seat opposite to her with a gesture.

She sat quickly, waiting for him to activate the nullifier so they could begin.

From within his desk he produced a round flatly hemispheric device that he left in the middle of the desk. He touched the middle with the tip of his index finger and brought his hand back. Three panels separated and folded back, a faint green light emanated. The nullifier was active.

“We’ve been presented with an offer we can’t refuse. I wanted your advice on how we should navigate it.” The Consul admitted.

“Please, it is my honour to help the Aventine. Who is making this offer?”

“The Son’a Executive.”

Creon furrowed her brow, she needed further clarification. “When you say you can’t refuse, have they threatened you?”

“No, it’s not like that. The offer is too good to refuse.”

“Then it may be too good to be true. What is it?”

“Five thousand head to serve in their military forces for a period of five years. Then another thousand each year after.”

“Is that all?”

“They’ll also be taking over any offworld mining operations. They’ll take 15% of gross product.”

“They say that, but they’ll rob you blind.”

“It’ll still be Aventine crews on the sites, the Son’a will just be supervising and handling any advanced technologies they bring. There are dispute resolution and enforcement mechanisms in place in the event of any irregularities.” The Consul said, sounding not entirely convinced of it himself.

“And what are you getting in return?”

“Protection. Their fleets will patrol our borders, they’ll install orbital defences in every inhabited system. We become part of their protected planets treaty, which every non-Federation power in the quadrant is a signatory to.”

“To be completely candid Consul, the idea of weapons in range of civilians with Son’a on the trigger fills me with dread. Those people are gangsters.”

“The Remans say they’ve changed. The Imperium and the Executive get along quite well. They have mutual defence treaties.”

“I cannot speak to decisions made by the Reman Imperium, but they are in a position to push back if the Son’a decide to go back on their word. The Aventine is not.” Creon assessed.

“No, I suppose we aren’t. But then, there’s always the Federation, isn’t there?”

“The Federation has dozens of active sanctions on the Son’a. You may find yourself on the receiving end of the Prime Directive if a contract you entered your people into willingly goes sour.”

“The Free State, then.”

“The Free State barely has the means to defend its own territories, let alone those of our allies. We will do what we can to protect Romulans everywhere, but we cannot make guarantees of swift or effective responses if the Aventine is threatened.” Creon reasoned.

“And that is exactly what the Son’a are offering. It’s not as though they’re the only threat out there you know. The Remans might be all smiles and embassy parties lately but it wasn’t so long ago they were picking at us like shrikes after the fall. The Aventine wasn’t their favorite hunting ground, but they had their fill on more than one occasion.” T’Lath observed.

“You could always join the Federation. They would take you. Especially now, with Dreizhen in their possession.” Creon suggested with an arched brow.

“Ha! Even the most liberal of Imperialist Senators would stab me on the senate floor. No, joining the Federation would be our last resort, and it would tear us apart in any direction.” T’Lath said, shaking his head.

“There is a human saying about omelettes and eggs. Perhaps you know it?”

“My people and their worlds are not eggs to be added to the omelette of the Federation, Ambassador Creon. Right now, we are defenceless, beyond our meagre flotilla, and those few worlds with functioning orbital defences. Without the Son’a, we have nothing but the mercy of passing explorers or deep-space traders if the Flotilla is at the other end of the Aventine when trouble arises.” The Consul was dignified, but his desperation was obvious. There simply were no other choices.

“Did you approach them, or did they approach you?” Creon asked after a moment’s silence.

“We approached them.” T’Lath said.

“Then it seems unlikely that you have anything in particular they want, beyond what they're asking. Who knows, perhaps all will be well and they will abide in good faith by the terms of your agreement. But somehow, I doubt it.” Creon said with a quickly fading optimism.

“As ever, your candor soothes and rejuvenates me, my dear.” T’Lath said dreamily. “I must say though, these new rifles the Free State has been putting out are something else. My men are almost coming to blows trying to get their hands on them.”

“Quite something, aren’t they? Our R&D teams have been hitting their stride of late.”

“It’s practically unfair. You can kill the entire occupancy of a building from the outside without unsettling the structure even slightly. It’s just a shame you can’t make them faster.”

“Good work takes time, Consul.”

“Indeed my dear, indeed.”

"Can I assume there will be another order forthcoming?" Creon inquired, "The price has rather unfortunately doubled to accommodate all of our allies in the market."

"Price be damned. We've got more raw minerals than we know what to do with, we're happy for the Free State to make use of them instead." The Consul shrugged.

"The Senate will be cheered to hear it. We value the well-being of our brothers and sisters of the Aventine. Free State weapons guarantee that."

"Oh yes. Remarkable what you can do with all that Borg wreckage, no?"

"Quite." Creon said with a cold smile.

"Well, you must lunch with me. There's a little tavern down the way, Bim Borox opened it up a few months ago. He'll clear it out for us, he's a friend."

"The Bolian? I thought he retired?"

"He did. He retired here. He only seats half a dozen. Says he does it so he's got an excuse to cook for himself, otherwise he'll forget." The Consul explained, standing and deactivating the nullifier, then moving to the front of his desk, where Drusilla sat.

"Then I'm very happy to support his remembering." Creon said, offering the Consul her arm.

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