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Praetor's Villa: Romulus

Stardate: 54451.9

The praetorians rendered another salute to Semachs as he walked through the doors into Neral's private dining room. The praetor was already sitting at the head of the table enjoying a plate of roasted hlai bird. Semachs noticed that two other places were set.

"Please," Neral said gesturing to the seat at his right. "Join me, Proconsul. I apologize for not waiting, but it was getting cold."

"I was delayed on state business. Besides, I am very wary of your advice."

"Yet, you are still here. Please, don't let good food go to waste."

Semachs reluctantly sat down as a slave poured him a glass of Kali-fal.

"Thank you again for coming Semachs," Neral said with a broad smile. "It is so very rare I get to entertain these days. I miss the company."

"I am not here to give you company nor am I here for entertainment," Semachs retorted. "You said you had a contact that could help us get the better of the Klingons and the Federation. I am here to see if you are telling the truth."

"No sense of patience or decorum," Neral said. "All business…" he condescendingly chuckled from behind his beard.

"This is a waste of time," Semachs muttered as he threw a napkin on the table and prepared to leave.

"Proconsul please…" a woman's voice echoed from behind a marble column. "We have much to discuss." A Romulan officer stepped out and stared at him. She kept one hand underneath her chin as if she was already calculating his next move. However, Semachs was taken aback at her cropped blonde hair and human-like features. "And I would hate to think you would leave here thinking the praetor failed you."

"Who are you?" Semachs asked furrowing his brow.

"My name is Commander Sela of the Volskiarii, Proconsul," she replied with a polite bow. "And I am very anxious to help you destroy that which I hate as much as you."

"Your father was General Volskiar, Hero of Narendra III?" Semachs said in shock. "I had no idea he had a child."

"Who my mother was is unimportant," Sela replied. "What I can do for you, however, is."

"I've followed the commander's career with great interest over the last decade," Neral said taking another bite of his food. "Her record as a squadron commander in the war was impressive. Before that, she was in charge of a few of my most sensitive special projects. If I had listened to her counsel with greater clarity, I wouldn't be here."

"Tell me, Commander," Semachs said skeptically. "Do you have the skills to accomplish such a thing or is your green blood as thin as this man's?" Neral ignored his barb and continued to eat.

Sela walked forward and leaned in uncomfortably close to the proconsul.

"My blood is greener than most," she said emphatically. "And I know the Federation and the Klingons better than the entire Tal Shiar put together. I exist because of them." Something in her seething tone intrigued him.

"Very well, Commander," Semachs said pointing to the chair across from him. "You have my attention. Speak."

She grinned deviously as she took a seat.

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