#no felines were harmed in the negotiation of this trade deal

[presumenothing]

When Yi had been tasked with accompanying His Highness the Crown Prince Yao on the trade deal negotiations with Amestris, this is not what they had been expecting. 

(Then again, they hadn’t expected to be tasked with this at all to begin with – if they’d ever wanted an eventful life they would’ve joined literally any other department besides the Ministry of Revenue, for heaven’s sake.

“Because the Minister is ancient and I’m allergic to the desert,” Vice-Minister Chen had said blandly; clearly the why had been writ large on Yi’s face, even though they hadn’t been about to ask aloud. “Besides, it’s no secret that the Crown Prince has the best chance of getting a favourable deal out of those Amestrisans anyway, as long as he doesn’t get distracted. That’ll be your main job, though nominally you’re there as a third party to ensure that he doesn’t ask for anything blatantly in favour of the Yao or Chang clans, since the Lins aren’t affiliated to either. Security’s already handled as well, you don’t have to worry about that.”

………Yi hadn’t even realised that could be something to worry about until right then. It was knowledge they really, really could’ve done without, just like the terrifying midnight visit from the Crown Prince’s knife-happy bodyguard to make sure that Yi isn’t some kind of assassin posing as a finance undersecretary.

Totally uncalled for, since if it’d been daylight Yi could’ve just shown with a schedule and simple math that they didn’t have time to work two jobs even if they’d wanted to.

Which they don’t; the only person they’ve ever wanted to murder is that one clerk in Jingzhou who always messed up the tax filings, and even that would be more trouble that it was worth.) 

Anyway. Yi’s preparation for this diplomatic visit had mostly been focused on reviewing the proposed trade deal, but they’d known even before leaving Xing that they were going to be negotiating with the Flame Alchemist, and… well, even someone who cared as little about politics as they did couldn’t help having some kind of assumptions on hearing that.

Which, Yi decides as they accept a mug of tea from General Mustang’s capable adjutant, only goes to show why they should continue sticking with numbers forever, seeing as pretty much every one of those assumptions had been mistaken. The tea is actually well-made, first of all, not burnt like the traders to Amestris always complained about.

It’s not poisoned, either, though of course Yi only thinks about that after the Crown Prince has taken several big gulps of tea, any one of which would probably have been sufficiently toxic if it’d actually been poisoned.

Which is in turn after the adjutant places a mug on… huh, the sill of a half-open window.

Yi blinks at that, then at the Flame Alchemist, who heaves the familiar sigh of the bureaucratically-burdened. “Can you please ask Lan Fan to just come in, we really could do without another assassination scare.”

The Crown Prince laughs – cackles, more accurately, like it’s not weird at all that a foreign general knows his bodyguard by name. “For that, your sentries would actually have to spot her first. Anyway, it’s just more incentive for you to wrap this up quickly, no? I’ve got an all-you-can-eat out there somewhere with my name on it!”

“Please don’t say that like I’m the one who’s been causing the delays in this deal.”

“Well, the last time it was Ed– huh, where are they, anyway?” the Crown Prince asks, twisting around in his seat like he expects someone to materialise despite the closed office door. “I’d have thought they would be here by now.”

General Mustang looks very much like he’s mentally pinching the bridge of his nose, which Yi mostly recognises by virtue of experiencing the exact same emotion. “In interest of finishing this sometime today, I banned the Elrics from stepping foot into Central Command until Hawkeye gives them the all-clear.”

Yi’s brain gets so stuck on the Elrics (calculating their potential lucrativeness in Xing’s economy is one of the most popular Ministry of Revenue party games after all) that they almost miss the Crown Prince’s question. 

“So what’s the all-clear?”

“These kittens we happened to have found this morning,” answers General Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, as his adjutant indicates the definitely-meowing cloth-lined basket in one corner of the room. “Which I’m sure you wouldn’t want to deprive Alphonse of for a moment longer than necessary – stop laughing before I stuff these documents in your face.”

Then the general has to dodge the thwip of a knife flying in through the window to embed itself in the wall while the Crown Prince falls off his seat laughing and the adjutant remains completely unruffled.

“More tea?” she asks serenely.

Yi nods fervently, holding out the mug like they hadn’t left the desert after all. “Please.”

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(more fics here)

[vaebnjuvek]

A Friendly Game

“I have you in check again.” The old Romulan frowned slightly at his opponent, a much younger human Starfleet officer. Juvek had been on the USS Indiana for two weeks, and in that time he’d grown fond of the 2-D chess that Commander Harrison preferred. It was an ancient, simple game that still required a great deal of cunning and planning to master. In short, it was a highly enjoyable game for a Romulan.

Not that he could tell Commander Harrison that. Juvek had been covered as a Vulcan ambassador for six years now. It was boring but ultimately rewarding work. Not that would ever tell the Tal Shiar that. If they wouldn’t allow him to enjoy his well-deserved retirement in peace, he would take this slow and what looked like a fairly safe assignment with good grace.

Commander Harrison yawned and shook his head, then took another drink of his coffee. “Sorry, ambassador, my head’s not in the game. Long night. We’ve been tracking tachyon radiation for about 12 hours now. If it’s a ship, it’s doing a damn good job staying hidden.”

Juvek raised an eyebrow. “A cloaked ship, perhaps?” 

Harrison shook his head. “That’s what we thought, and we performed a few modifications to the deflector array to try to pin down the source of the tachyons, but we can’t find it.”

Juvek frowned again, and not just at the game. Harrison had him in check, but he was mulling over what Harrison said. Was it the Tal Shiar keeping an eye on him? Something said not. His mission was low importance, he was just planted in the Federation to keep an eye out for any interesting data and steer the Federation away from any Tal Shiar activities. No one had been in contact with him. Ambassador Savel didn’t have military experience, but Juvok was a veteran of the Romulan military. If it wasn’t cloaked Romulan ships, his experience said to be cautious. Ships that leaked tachyon radiation like that were usually fairly dangerous to encounter.

“If the tachyon radiation is following the ship, a nebula ought to force any cloaked ship out of hiding. The radiation and the magnetic fields play havoc on Romulan cloaking technology.” He moved a piece out of harm’s way and sat back to consider his next moves. The human was good, Juvek would give him that. “However, I would advise caution in any case. If it isn’t the Romulans, the list of ships that I’m aware of that leak tachyon radiation is a short and dangerous one.”

“If it’s not the Romulans, which do you think it could be?” Harrison’s full attention was on Juvek now, not the game. Juvek didn’t like the focus in the human’s eyes. He reminded himself that his cover used to work for the Vulcan Science Academy and thus, probably knew this as well as Juvek did. 

“Hmm. Cardassians, or maybe Klingons, if they’re cloaked. That would be the least dangerous alternative, but also is the least likely. We’re far from their space. Elachi ships leak tachyon radiation, but they don’t cloak, as far as I’m aware, so they would have to be staying out of our sensors some other way. The Borg also emit tachyon radiation, and they’ve assimilated Romulans so one assumes they have the ability to replicate the technology, however the power needed to cloak a Borg cube or sphere would be immense. Current Romulan singularity technology would not be able to handle the strain. Perhaps they could cloak a scout ship, if they managed to replicate a strong enough singularity drive to power it. Or if they assimilated a ship with the proper technology already built. The Romulan Republic has been making Scimitar-class dreadnoughts that might fit the bill.”

Harrison went paler than usual. “That’s a terrifying thought. Borg using Romulan cloaking technology. Do you know if they’re missing a ship?”

Juvek shook his head. “The Romulan ambassador and I are not on the best of terms. There was an unfortunate incident on Vulcan involving my feline pet, Mitrani, and the ambassador’s second-best uniform.” Juvek’s eyes sparkled mischievously as Harrison laughed. “For all their talk of democracy and diplomacy, they’re still very Romulan. I’m sure you probably have better access to that information than I do.”

Harrison nodded. He made a move. “Checkmate.” Juvek checked it, inwardly cursed. “Ambassador, why don’t you come up to the bridge with me? A fresh pair of eyes might be just what Captain Mitchell needs.”

Juvek looked out the windows of the lounge and nodded. Whatever was following them, it would not be good for him, either. The thought of the Borg was enough to make him shudder. He narrowly avoided that hell once, when his former command was taken by them. The IRW D’merix was no more, and Juvek had no wish to repeat the experience in Federation space. “Yes, that might be wise, given the circumstances.” He rose and began to follow the first officer out of the ship’s lounge, but the sound of a transporter behind him made them both pause and turn around.

A lone Borg walked up to one of the computer screens and began to read from it. Juvek motioned to Harrison, who had been looking around him for some sort of weapon. Juvek inwardly cursed. He wasn’t supposed to have a weapon, but he’d be damned if he was going to wander about unarmed. He reached under his robes and pulled out a Starfleet-style phaser. He frowned at the controls, modifying it as quickly as he could.

Harrison whispered, “What are you doing? Shoot it!”

Cover forgotten for the moment, Juvek snapped as quietly as he could, “Give me a second!” Red alert sirens went off a moment later, but the Borg ignored it in favor of the computer terminal. Juvek took aim and fired. The borg dropped to the ground, dead. Juvek moved forward and kicked the Borg for good measure, then checked the computer readout. “I’m seeing intruders on decks three through eight. Engineering. Also reports of intruders on the bridge that have been dealt with.” He tossed the phaser to Harrison, who nodded and began to lead the way to the bridge.

Harrison tapped his communicator. “Harrison to bridge. There’s one dead borg in the lounge. I’m escorting the ambassador to the bridge.”

“Acknowledged, commander. Sending a security team to your location. Get up here as quickly as you can, we’ve got company.” The voice over the comm was Captain Mitchell. 

A Borg waited for them in the corridor. Harrison took aim. Fired. It had no effect. Juvek cursed out loud, vividly, in Romulan before he could stop himself, and he moved forward. The old Romulan was stronger than a human, and he used his extra strength to his advantage, breaking through the Borg’s defenses and crushing its windpipe. Harrison came from behind and ripped out a handful of its implants and it went down. Juvek cursed again. “ Qezh.” He spat a bit of green blood at it.

He looked up to find Harrison was watching him. Juvek couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. Survival now, worry later. "We need to move. Now!” They ran down the corridor and finally ran face-first into the security team as they were nearing the turbolift. Juvek wiped green blood from his mouth. His lip ached where he’d accidentally bit down. 

Harrison pointed back the way they came. “We can make it to the bridge from here. There’s a Borg back there that needs to be finished off. I don’t know if it’s completely dead.” They nodded and continued down the corridor. Harrison motioned for Juvek to follow him into the turbolift. “Bridge.”

Once the turbolift was nearly there, Harrison said, “All stop.” He turned with the phaser in one hand and said, “Alright, out with it. That wasn’t Vulcan you were speaking back there.”

Juvek closed his eyes and inwardly cursed. He gave a heavy sigh. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Romulan?” Harrison raised the phaser.

Juvek nodded. “I’m getting too old for this. Spending my retirement negotiating trade and scientific deals for the Vulcans seemed like as good an assignment as any to get me away from the madness in what’s left of the Empire.”

Harrison didn’t look surprised. “Your name’s not Savel, is it?”

Juvek shook his head. “Commander Juvek, of the...formerly of the Romulan military. Then I retired. Then the Tal Shiar decided my retirement was over and sent me here.” There was a bit of animosity there. Just a bit. There had ever been rivalry between the military and the Tal Shiar, and Juvek did not hold the organization in good esteem. Particularly since he’d rather be brewing ale than doing this spy nonsense.

“That’s what we thought.” Harrison didn’t look in the least bit ruffled as Juvek gave him an arched eyebrow. “I’m not actually the first officer aboard the Indiana. Starfleet Intelligence has been tracking a spy in our ranks for months. We thought it might be one of your attaches, until I started playing chess with you.” The ship rocked as Borg weaponry hit it. “We’re going to talk about this further, but not here. If you mean what you’re saying, you won’t do anything stupid and force me to confine you to the brig. I’d rather Ambassador Savel maintain appearances.”

Juvek raised both eyebrows at that. Well, well. He smelled an opportunity. “Very well. Let us speak then, after the Borg have been dealt with.”

Harrison smiled. “Good man. Computer, resume.” The turbolift continued, and the doors opened on the bridge a moment later.