The Ferengi Grand Proxy had hung back while everyone was speaking. He was
not overly comfortable with large groups of people. He had a feeling
that
most of his colleagues did not see him as measuring up. He was intrigued
by the Venasians. They always seemed a bit mysterious to him and they
were
becoming even more so as he met more of them.
Valtris had bowed her head as the General introduced each member of his
staff. She knew few Venasians, but these folks made her wary. She was
not
sure why. One would think that the current representative to the Council
would disturb her more with her Borg implants, but these three made her
spine run cold.
"It is a pleasure to meet your staff, General," said the Plantoc in
response
to the introductions. "I am sure that they serve you and your people
well."
In response to Admiral Lasiter, the Fleetmaster replied, "Fleetmaster will
be sufficient, Admiral. While General A'amon and I technically hold the
same rank within the military, I would not want to cause confusion."
"Thank you, Plantoc," A'amon replied to the head of the Council, "And here
is someone who requires no introduction. I am sure you remember T'remea
Celana D'amondra."
The moment many had undoubtedly been dreading finally came - the
introduction of a cloned Celana D'amondra to people who had known her
before... and to a very elite few who knew the real Celana secretly hid on
board the station while she recovered. The Clone approached from behind.
Her ambassadorial uniform had been changed from the former blue to black
slashed with gold, the colors A'amon seemed to be adopting for his own. She
looked identical to Celana D'amondra, but there were subtle differences
noticeable only to those who knew. The way she walked. Her expression.
And, when she spoke.
"Plantoc, Admiral," she greeted with a tilt of her head, "It is a pleasure
to meet you again."
"T'remea D'amondra has, as you know, taken graciously taken leave of her
duties to serve as the representative for the diplomatic corps on my staff.
She is now a liason between myself and the other T'remeas in the field."
Dolari Haryail watched the proceedings from the back of the room, somewhat
forgotten. For one moment there is a flash of malovelent hatred - very
uncharacteristic of a Venasian - on her face, and several of her Borg
implants light up. The instant is very brief, and only caught by Lasiter as
he looks around uncomfortably...
S
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