She is resolute. "I'm here to say that I fucked up. Insanely. And it took this fucking media circus to show me that, which is shitty, because I should've just known.
Amber pauses. Swallows. "You have every right to jail me or fry me or make me into cat food. But I want to help you."
"My own line of work disinclines me to take revenge, at this time, in these circumstances. That is by no means a guarantee in any other circumstances." Starek's words are measured and crisp. "How exactly do you intend to 'help' us?"
Politics, he reminds himself, is that game in which phasering your opponents under the negotiating table is frowned upon. Of course, at the moment, he has no opponents -- directly. He is, however, caught in the middle of a shitstorm spanning two empires that revolves around the man who, love aside, has the routing codes to hail and track his ship. Speaking of which, it is probably time to change those, before T'Nis leaks them any farther than her fathers.
"I have the tapes, audio and everything. If you want, I can leak the parts that show Spock didn't know you were Romulan, or that once you melded, it was okay between you."
"That was beautiful, by the way," she throws up a hand and then rubs her nose with it, looking away from the camera. "Not like you care what I think but, I'm just saying."
"You will give me the data, from that night. Every frame in which I appear. And then, you will destroy the local copies." Starek knows the logs must be destroyed, before a cleaner image of his face becomes public.
He turns to Selov. "How well do you know your daughter's systems? Would you be able to confirm the erasure?"
"You must understand," he addresses Amber, again, "my stake in this has always been business. If more data is to be released, I will decide what it is, for my own sake."
He rubs his thumb across the back of Spock's knuckles, hoping to convey that he can only tell part of the truth, or he risks putting them both in more danger.
"On behalf of my katravahsu, I must ask if the mind meld footage has been released in any way." If that had gotten out, Spock was probably no longer safe from further and more in-depth inquiries into Starek's history and whereabouts. This had the potential to get bigger and nastier, by quite a bit.
She shakes her head emphatically. "No, all that got released was what was on the news."
"I'm going to open the systems. You can download everything and wipe it yourself. Nobody's here but me, anyway. T'Nis is gone to this spa kind of thing. Then she's getting on board the liner you booked her on, Mr. Selov. Normally I would've gone except we had a fight. More than one, actually, and --"
Starek squirms, reaching into his pants pocket, and comes out with a communicator. "Starek to bridge. Throw sa-kai out of bed for me. I'm going to need him to do something fast and sneaky for me, momentarily."
"Yes, Riov," the female voice crackles back.
"We can take care of this problem. Thank you for allowing us to do so." Starek's face softens, but only slightly. "You were very close to her, weren't you? I believe I said it when you were not in the room, but I will say it again, for you to hear. You are too involved in what others wish of you, and not nearly involved enough in yourself. It'll kill you, if you don't get that under control."
"Sa-kai, I need you to do a pillage and burn for me," Starek says to the communicator, rattling out a list of numbers, times, and routing codes. "And, yes, you can watch it, if you must."
"I'd rather not, if it's all the same, Ravsam. Your pet Orion is giving me looks, though."
"If she's threatening you, you can let her at it. She was in the transporter room. She's already seen his bare ass and mine." Starek sighs. D'nila might finally stop asking for details. Maybe. Or, this would just make her entirely incorrigible. "Time?"
"It's slow, from this far out, with our equipment. Can we have two hours?"
Starek looks up at the screen. "Two hours. Do we have that long?"
His hand closes possessively around Spock's wrist. "Say what you have come to say, and we will consider it."
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Amber pauses. Swallows. "You have every right to jail me or fry me or make me into cat food. But I want to help you."
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Politics, he reminds himself, is that game in which phasering your opponents under the negotiating table is frowned upon. Of course, at the moment, he has no opponents -- directly. He is, however, caught in the middle of a shitstorm spanning two empires that revolves around the man who, love aside, has the routing codes to hail and track his ship. Speaking of which, it is probably time to change those, before T'Nis leaks them any farther than her fathers.
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"That was beautiful, by the way," she throws up a hand and then rubs her nose with it, looking away from the camera. "Not like you care what I think but, I'm just saying."
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He turns to Selov. "How well do you know your daughter's systems? Would you be able to confirm the erasure?"
"You must understand," he addresses Amber, again, "my stake in this has always been business. If more data is to be released, I will decide what it is, for my own sake."
He rubs his thumb across the back of Spock's knuckles, hoping to convey that he can only tell part of the truth, or he risks putting them both in more danger.
"On behalf of my katravahsu, I must ask if the mind meld footage has been released in any way." If that had gotten out, Spock was probably no longer safe from further and more in-depth inquiries into Starek's history and whereabouts. This had the potential to get bigger and nastier, by quite a bit.
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"I'm going to open the systems. You can download everything and wipe it yourself. Nobody's here but me, anyway. T'Nis is gone to this spa kind of thing. Then she's getting on board the liner you booked her on, Mr. Selov. Normally I would've gone except we had a fight. More than one, actually, and --"
She breaks off, rubbing at her eye. "Never mind."
"Starek. Spock. I really am sorry."
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"Yes, Riov," the female voice crackles back.
"We can take care of this problem. Thank you for allowing us to do so." Starek's face softens, but only slightly. "You were very close to her, weren't you? I believe I said it when you were not in the room, but I will say it again, for you to hear. You are too involved in what others wish of you, and not nearly involved enough in yourself. It'll kill you, if you don't get that under control."
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Her hand goes up to scratch the back of her head and then both hands are typing. "Here. You should have access now."
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"I'd rather not, if it's all the same, Ravsam. Your pet Orion is giving me looks, though."
"If she's threatening you, you can let her at it. She was in the transporter room. She's already seen his bare ass and mine." Starek sighs. D'nila might finally stop asking for details. Maybe. Or, this would just make her entirely incorrigible. "Time?"
"It's slow, from this far out, with our equipment. Can we have two hours?"
Starek looks up at the screen. "Two hours. Do we have that long?"
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"Anything else you need, before I head back to the city?"
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