The DrearGyre

by Leslie Lee

You have been a fine student. Dare I say it? The best? The quickest and the brightest, certainly. And as any good ‘father’ I worry for you.” He looked out the window, not meeting her gaze. “There are those who for some reason seem to delve into the personal lives and practices of those around us. I, as you well know, care nothing for such dogma. Such efforts yield nothing useful. I care for results and those who can produce them. You are also an excellent teacher. Warn your students to be careful on what is becoming a treacherous stretch along our journey. The conflict on Romulus is subtle. For now. Perilous always.”

  Syll couldn’t sleep. She eschewed drugs. The meditations did nothing for her. She even tried a Vulcan meditative state. It helped only a little. What the Seigneur of the Tal Shiar had said echoed in her mind. The Tal Shiar had been both bribed and pressured. When it had reached some threshold, the Tal Shiar had decided the opportunity was right. She recalled a Federation saying: The thin edge of the wedge. The thinnest part had been the depraved request about Kari’s hair. And now the actual demand, for the Human. The Beloved Nephew was moving against the Tal Shiar. He was like a black hole sucking power into itself at all levels of their civilization. Instead of repelling, his madness seemed to inspire, draw people to him. The media hailed him as if his coronation as Praetor was inevitable. He was backing the Senate into a corner. If what the Seigneur implied was true, then he was also probing the personnel of the Tal Shiar, hunting for weaknesses. The Seigneur of her Tal Shiar order knew about her. She did not know how he knew exactly. She always assumed he would use it against her if he ever had need. Could anyone else know?

  The Empire did not tolerate deviants. That knowledge would keep him safe from any ambition she had. He’d never have need to use that knowledge against her. She would have gladly served on the Darksend as first officer forever. Despite hiding the fact that she was Tal Shiar, she had enjoyed almost all of it. Perhaps one day, she would even have become captain. A captain in the Romulan fleet as well as a commander in the Tal Shiar. A dream the Beloved Nephew had destroyed with a few words so that he could hunt Vulcans.

  Vulcans. This obsession with those smug and condescending aliens bordered on the insane in her opinion. And they were aliens. Not Romulans. This compulsion amongst some on both sides to join the two cultures was misguided at best and dangerous in the extreme. If it had been up to her, she would have had that meddling Vulcan, Ambassador Spock, assassinated years ago. Right along with that blonde halfbreed who was intent beyond all reason on invading Vulcan. Insanity. Sheer insanity. Maybe being tainted with Human blood had addled their minds. Yet, compared with the Beloved Nephew’s completely insane belief that the Federation had embedded Vulcans everywhere in Romulan society, the half breeds both now appeared preferable.

  She rubbed her eyes. Being a teacher here fulfilled her though. She was somewhat accomplished at it she thought. Students had sought her out before she took the assignment on the ship and now, did so again. She had missed Romulus but she had loved space.

  Was the Seigneur of the Tal Shiar threatening her with his knowledge or warning that her secret was at risk? It had been so long ago. And how could anybody have known? Romulan Ale and hormones rampaging through a body and mind in turmoil. A terrible combination. It didn’t matter. The evidence lay in a grave far away. Since then, she had played the role of a proper Romulan female with perfection. Taking male lovers when opportune. Hiding herself in the trappings of appropriateness. Then space became her new love. She had become content. So she told herself.

  She paced through the tiny apartment. It still felt new to her. When the Beloved Nephew exposed her as Tal Shiar, she decided to move away from her old quarters. People’s distrust surrounded her in overly friendly smiles, in avoidance of her company, in averted eyes. Friends were careful around her, watching what they said, respectful. Just what she needed. People mistaking fear for respect. Someone had sought her out to plead that he had meant nothing by what he had said and he only loved the Empire. She neither remembered him nor what he had said and sent him and his cloud of fear away in disgust.

  The isolation this new apartment brought soothed her a little.

  She tried to rid herself of one image in her mind. There were so many terrible memories she had suppressed successfully. Ones that she had grown accustomed to. Things had to be done in the profession that had chosen her. Had her performance not been exemplary? Efficient? Everything had been done for a reason. But now this one image. She couldn’t rid herself of it. All she could see was how close she had come to the Human to touch the pips along her collar.

  Had Kari really leaned ever so slightly towards her? Romulans avoided physical contact. She hated touching anyone. Or being touched. Kari had been so close at that moment. Rage had burned through her at the Human’s words. But at that moment, Kari had looked into her eyes.

  Exhaustion finally forced some sleep onto the Commander.

  In the days following, she drilled herself and the students in every minor thing she could think of. The students though were still distracted. She had to constantly correct them over the simplest of tasks. Alone in her office, she frowned at their scores. They needed to be careful or they’d fail. An outcome that was at best unacceptable, at worst, dangerous.

  Someone knocked on her door. Her office, like the Seigneur’s, was in the old building. Brick and mortar and stone surrounded her. These old wooden doors that had to be manually opened seemed ancient to her. She loved them.

  “Come,” she sighed, as she lowered her veil. She was tired and cold. She might have to resort to drugs after all to get some sleep.

  “Commander Syll,” the young student said hurrying in. “It appears as if 738766 may be causing us more work again.”

  “Is that so?” Syll said, looking at her screen. She could hear the young student breathing hard. She’d run up here. “A shame.”

  “She is indeed troublesome. I believe the Beloved Nephew’s shuttle will be arriving sometime within the next thirty minutes.”

  “I suppose we should see that the shuttle is properly off loaded.”

  The student nodded vigorously.

  She typed a few more random things on her screen. Then she stood slowly and adjusted her robes as she walked to the landing pad. The student followed along behind her. Syll was glad she was there. Keeping the student from dashing down the hallways calmed her. And her presence kept her from running as well.

  The other students met them at the landing pad.

  “What is your purpose for being here?” she demanded.

  “We only wish to assist you, Commander.”

  “You believe I need assistance?”

  “Yes, Commander,” one said, her voice clear.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Very well then. Stay. It may be instructive.”

  She gripped herself from looking at the time. This building of the compound was old, preserved from the expansion of the modern into the compound. The hands of countless students over the centuries had smoothed the bricks. How many boots had it taken to wear these depressions into the stone. Rumor said that every species known to the Romulan Empire had contributed a stain to the walls. A silly story but one she was proud of nonetheless. Just when she could not abide any more of her students’ constant fidgeting, the Beloved Nephew’s shuttle arrived. A Romulan from the Beloved Nephew’s entourage pushed a hooded stretcher down a ramp. It hovered silently towards them.

  Along with the guards, Syll and the students approached the shuttle.

  “Make sure she’s ready again in four weeks,” the Romulan said dismissively. He had no fear of the Tal Shiar. He felt himself untouchable.

  “As you wish,” Syll said, hiding how much his attitude enraged her.

  “As our Beloved Nephew wishes,” he corrected. He kicked the stretcher. “Humans are scum. The Federation will bow before us.”

  “As you say,” Syll said.

  “This one did more, much more than just bow.” He laughed and looked at the guards and the st
udents. They laughed as well when Syll laughed along with him.

  They waited for him to leave. He took it as a measure of respect.

  Syll murmured into her communicator. “Transport us directly to the hospital.”

  Transporting into or out of the Tal Shiar compound was impossible. Within the compound’s shields, site to site beaming was possible in certain areas.

  “What do you have for me today, Commander?” the doctor asked as he approached their group after they had materialized.

  The opaque glass hood obscured the contents of the stretcher. He pressed the control revealing the patient.

  The doctor crossed his arms appearing neutral. “Your techniques appear to have changed, Commander Syll.”

  “This is not my doing, doctor. This Human has been in the care of the Beloved Nephew.”

  He cursed letting his true feelings show. She had always thought that the quickest way to a penal colony was to become a doctor. They seemed genetically predisposed to being unable to hold their tongues. Then again, she had to force her own fists to unclench.

  “It’s going to die,” he said examining the body. “Why should we care? It’s a Human.”

  “The Beloved Nephew has requested that she be his guest again in four weeks.”

  “He has has he? If it’s not going to talk after this abuse, then it simply isn’t going to. And anything he gets