Proconsul's Chambers, Ki-Baratan: Romulus, Romulan Star Empire
Semachs leaned back in his opulent desk chair and stared at the holoscreen mounted on the wall. He enjoyed the Tal Shiar intercepts of the Federation News Service. They offered a unique perspective on his enemies that dry intelligence reports often lacked.
Though the story on the new Pershing class dreadnaught caused him great frustration, the fact that the moronic talking heads were so distracted by the comments of Governor Torlek made him want to jump out of his chair and shout with sadistic glee:
"Did the Klingon Empire pressure Starfleet to advance the career of Daniel Tigranian?" a weakling human reporter screeched at the hideous Klingon animal.
"In the Klingon Empire, when a member of the press insults the honor a noble family without evidence, we send them to the dilithium mines on Rura Penthe for a slow death…" Torlek replied with a banal aphorism that Semachs had come to expect from his sub-Romulan, barbaric species.
"And there you have it Ladies and Gentlemen," the Federation anchor continued, completely ignoring the battlestarship moored in the background of the footage. "This exchange occurred at the Caleb IV shipyards while Governor Torlek was a guest of honor. Timoshan, your thoughts?" the anchor said turning to a Cygnian man sitting at the desk next to him along with a female Catullan and another male Zakdorn.
"It's just shocking," the Cygnian said shaking his head. "I mean, we have it right there on film. The Klingons no longer have any kind of respect for our values or who we are as a society. Now, their leaders are openly making death threats to Federation civilians. The only question I have is what is our government going to do about it?"
"I'd like to jump in here," the Catullan woman said. "I think the answer is that our government is not going to do anything about it until we demand it as a people. You see it now all across the Federation. Everyday men and women are standing up for their rights against a government that used the threat of war for so many years to curtail them. The only reason we needed the Klingons after they withdrew from the Khitomer Accords back in '72 was because of the Dominion.
Now that the threat from the Gamma Quadrant is gone, we need to be the ones demanding change. If the Klingons want to remain relevant in the galaxy, they need to evolve. General elections are in less than three months. People need to stand up, get out, and vote. Otherwise, nothing is going to happen."
"I think you bring up a really interesting point Cerikylia," the Zakdorn said in his species' typical high-pitched, nasal tone. "Strategically, the Klingon Alliance made sense a quarter century ago. Now that the Federation is in a much more powerful position than it was then, the question we all have to ask is, is it really worth the cost to our sense of morals as a union of free peoples?"
"Unfortunately, we're out of time for today," the anchor said cutting in. "Join us tomorrow…"
Semachs smiled and leaned back in his chair. He looked across his massive desk to the corner of the room.
"It really is pathetic how easy it is to undermine a democracy," he chuckled. "Throw some uncertainty, confusion, and violence their way and they tear themselves to shreds voluntarily. You'd think they'd be smart enough just to turn it off."
"That's the beauty of it all. They can't," said a figure emerging from the shadows. "Indignation is an addiction for the Federation. They crave it like a narcotic." She walked closer to Semachs and leaned on his desk. "I told you Tigranian was the key. His body may be human, but his mind is Klingon. Therefore, it is utterly predictable. The forced evacuations from the MDL along with the Romulan-Cardassian Labor Exchange program was just the bait he needed to go over the edge.
The elections will drive the Federation away from the Klingons, the President and Council with break the Alliance, and then there will be nothing standing in our way from reclaiming our rightful place as the dominant power in the galaxy."
"After we get our own affairs in order first," Semachs corrected her as the Romulan Sub-Commander walked to a side table and poured two glasses of kali-fal. She returned to the desk and handed one to Semachs.
"Of course, Proconsul," she said holding the bright blue spirit next to her blonde hair. "With the Federation and Klingons no longer a threat, that is only a matter of time."
"Perhaps Neral was right about you, Commander Sela," Semachs said taking a sip of his drink. "I was wrong to doubt it."
"I am honored to serve the Star Empire, Proconsul," Sela replied with a respectful bow. "I'm just sorry that it took the return of the slave rebellion for it to happen."
"Do I detect a veiled rebuke, Sub-Commander?" Semachs said with a hint of admiration.
"Not at all, Sir," Sela simpered. "I am simply stating that desperate times require devious measures."
"Spoken like a true Romulan," Semachs said hoisting his glass in her direction. "I do admit, when I found out that your mother was human, I had my doubts. I am glad to see that they were misguided."
Sela held back her internal anger and let her cool Romulan visage hide her emotion. She raised her glass towards him.
"To the Senate and the People of Romulus, Proconsul. May their enemies die in agony."
"Jolan Tru, Commander," Semachs said with a grin before taking another sip of Romulan Ale.