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Posted on Sat Dec 24th, 2016 @ 6:44am by Magnus Temple

Mission: Trouble on the frontier
Location: Federation Embassy

Magnus retuned to the Federation Embassy with a flurry of energy, eager to get started on the plans for their Welcome Luncheon for Ambassador Telhas. This would be the first event he will have hosted on Deep Space 12, and he was secretly pleased at being the one to orchestrate it. He practically bounded back into the office with childish glee.

However, that moment of joy was quickly dissuaded when Sally, Magnus' dutiful Receptionist, greeted the Dane with a rather sour look.

"No bad news." Magnus insisted, holding up his hands. "I'm having a good afternoon."

Sally sighed, "I'm sorry, but it's the Frenchman."

"Definitely no news from him!" Magnus cried, raising his eyebrows. "There's a strict embargo on all things Gerard in this office."

"Well someone needs to tell him that," Sally shot back, "Because he has done nothing but barrage us with requests while you've been gone. He kept saying something about a Klingon and an assault?"

Temple snorted a laugh, "Well it serves him right."

"But we're the ones who have to hear about it," Sally sighed.

Magnus walked over to Sally's LCARS screen and saw the influx of messages waiting for him. He looked to the overworked receptionist and smiled. With a quick swipe of his hand, all of Michel Gerard's "Super Important" and "Respond Now!" messages were dropped into the computerised trash can.

"Problem solved." The cheeky Dane replied with a shrug.

"If only it was that easy," Sally called out after him.

Magnus continued to walk into the office, ignoring Sally's obvious disapproval at his instructions. She knew that Michel had rarely taken no for an answer and wasn't about to stop now. But the Chief Diplomat had other things to do - far more important things. He gathered his aides Volke and Ashra into the main conference room to start preparations for the Welcome Luncheon.

Vulka was actually bemused, or as much as he could be, at the thought of entertaining a Duke. "A suitably grandiose reception for the Romulan Ambassador should be extended."

"But is he Vulcan or Romulan?" Ashra asked dully.

"Romulan," Magnus replied, though after a slight pause, "With the heritage and attire of a Vulcan."

"Right." Ashra nodded, though not confidently.

"Are you sure the Klingons will enjoy all the pomp and circumstance of such a reception?" Volke asked, staring at the guest list. "This is hardly their kind of occasion. No blood wine, for starters."

"Well I had hoped to unite the two empires with this event,"Magnus began.

"I hardly think a lunch will suffice in such an ambitious goal." Volke interrupted with a scoff.

"But unfortunately," Magnus continued with a wry smile, "Ambassador Matlh doesn't wish to dine with the Romulans. It's too personal a gesture with a race that hers is still techncially at war with."

"I too share the Ambassador's concerns," Volke replied, "Why are we making such a friendly gesture to the Romulans, even one as highly respected as Ambassador Telhas?"

Magnus sighed, "Because cold wars get you nothing but cold. And there's a saying where I'm from, 'I rǿrt vand er godt at fiske.' Which means, there is good fishing in chaotic waters."

Ashra frowned, "Wait, are we cold... or are we fishing?"

"You think the continuation of the cold war between the Federation and Romulans, and by extension the Klingons, presents an opportunity?" Volke asked, "Somehow DS12 can bridge the gap between us all?"

"More or less," The Dane replied, "Telhas is an intelligent man and fierce politician, we learnt that from his overhaul of the Romulan Embassy, and some intel Matlh dropped in conversation. But we're a friendly face from across the aisle, someone willing to make the first step towards them. If there is nowhere else in the massive diplomatic gulf between Federation and Romulan that someone else is willing to make a gesture, then why cannot us, here on DS12, make such a move?"

The two staff members thought for a minute, and finally Ashra shrugged, "It's worth a try."

Volke sighed, "Agreed."

Magnus gave them a broad smile, "Come on, we're the League of Diplomats. There's nothing we can't do, remember? Anyway, we're just starting off small."

"I will organise food with one of the restaurants in the Promenade," Ashra said, typing away at a PADD. "I'm sure someone will want to cater for us."

"Very good," Temple nodded, "But I want a selection of Romulan cuisine too, they are the guests of honour."

Ashra nodded while Volke leaned forward, "As I am the most familiar with Romulan style and custom, I will handle the decorations."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Magnus smiled. "As the Ambassador is clearly very proud of his Vulcan heritage, please include some elements to that effect. But let's not go overboard, this is still a Federation event."

"Understood, sir," Volke replied, "Restraint is one of my best attributes."

Magnus tried not to laugh at the Vulcan's dry humour, "You don't say."

The trio began to make their preparations for the dinner, enthused at the possibilities it could bring. Friendship could spring from the smallest of gestures, Magnus thought, why couldn't they make some headway into relations with the Romulans with their little luncheon.

As Ashra had said, it was worth trying.


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