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Starbase Indy 2009 Report from Marri?

Transmission destination: Derna
Final destination: Romulus
Source: undetermined
Signal intercepted at Morska

Begin transmission:

My dear T’zahn,

In keeping with your request, I begin this correspondence with you to satisfy your curiosity over life among “the barbarians”. But, we won’t begin there. We’ll begin outside Klingon space.

There was a conference at a human starbase called “Indy”. I don’t know why I was there. A sick pseudo-masochistic desire to meet the people who torment me so beautifully over the comm? Sure, why not.

So, I booked a transport well in advance, hoping to secure semi-comfortable accommodations while not bleeding my darseks dry. I was crammed onboard what can only be called a rudimentary scow that I swear was held together with string and targ snot. We bumped along at about warp .5 before setting down at a transport station, where I waited. And waited. And waited for the next transport. I was famished, but for some reason the Ferengi had all closed down their establishments for the day except for one truly enterprising entrepreneur running a chocolate shop. Chocolate was good, meat would have been better, but chocolate was good. At last the next transport arrived, a much more impressive and suitable ship. I was marched through the front cabin--where Klingons were seated in large chairs with plenty of leg room--and stuffed into coach next to a Tellarite chewing and snorting on truffles from the chocolate shop. I tried to sleep with my knees crammed against the seat in front of me. After another long stay at an outpost on the edge of Klingon territory, I finally boarded a Federation shuttle that was small, but clean and comfortable, which brought me to the starbase.

The Klingons arrived later than I, and I know you’ll despise me for saying it, but this was an impressive lot; the Chancellor, his wife and family, Vice Chancellor and his wife, the Supreme Military Commander and his wife, the ‘oDwI’ (I don’t think that can properly translate into Romulan), as well as various other warriors, honor guard and attendants—including one of those Vulcans, tharavul. You’d find them quite fascinating, if you could get over your revulsion long enough to speak to one, and I hope you won’t flay me the next time we meet, but she did bear a remarkable resemblance to you, common ancestry aside. The Starfleet personnel gave us all a wide berth. We watched a performance, and the humans brought out some of their celebrities for worship. One, a very dignified, older gentleman, complained of Klingons. Now, if you can imagine the swagger and pride in which Klingons carry on among their own, you have to see how much that animalistic pride is magnified when they are among other species. Such an insult could not stand, and tavana, Line Lady of House tSepeS, confronted him. From my understanding, the poor man was incapacitated for the rest of the night.

Somehow-- I don’t quite know how he did it--mor’taH, the Supreme Military Commander, convinced me to go onstage with him for a “masquerade”. The name perplexes me, as there were only two in masks that I could see. mor’taH attempted to give relationship advice while we were before the audience, but the Federation aliens assembled were smart enough not to ask him anything. You know I don’t favor so much scrutiny and I had no problem making an exit, but I think mor’taH was ready to slit throats. He swears we were sabotaged—you know how they over-react. The best thing was to just agree to anything he said and stay out of his path. A healthy dose of bloodwine seemed to soothe him, as well as an interesting consolation prize (a riveting historical holovid of a supposedly alternate time line that I think you would take great offense to!)

There was the mandatory honorifics and awards ceremony held in the cold courtyard of the starbase. I don’t recall who won what; you know how they all smell alike.

The ‘oDwI’ and a warrior called Toq (apparently the poster boy of the Empire) took me out to multiple celebrations. The libations were…plentiful. All I recall were shackles, tying someone’s shoe, a slave auction advertisement, and there was a Starfleet officer attempting to dance with me. Arizhel and Toq created a wall-of-Klingon between us and the ‘fleeter went scampering off after easier prey. Odd, isn’t it, how protective the brutes can be over what they consider theirs? I spent the next day recovering.

My journey back was as pleasurable as the trip there. For some reason I was pulled aside for an extra security check and placed into a scanning machine I’d never encountered before. Arizhel, my part way travelling companion, was laughing the entire time; I’m certain she had something to do with it. Either way, let’s just say that I had a little chat with Imperial Intelligence I’d rather not have again. Ever.

Its times like these that I do regret turning down your offer years ago to take up residence on Romulus.

I hope you’ll forgive me for leaving out the detailed observations of my experience that you are accustomed to hearing from me, but I’m quite certain Imperial Intelligence will be all over this communication once I send it and…well, right, chats I’d rather not have again. Ever.

End transmission

Communication logged 1563.2
Release signal