"Would you care for some tea?"

Spock, the half-human and half-Vulcan hybrid, offering him some Human tea on the homeworld from which both their races originated; there was something oddly comical about this entire situation, but Herak just couldn't put his finger on it. He had been placed on Vulcan to replace the last representative of the Star Empire, a rather incompetent and vain fool, who had done nothing to further relations or causes of reunification with the Vulcan High Command. It was now his turn to do his part, and after three weeks attempting to repair relations - including showing that the Romulans were not the paranoid expansionists that they most certainly were - he had succeeded in both doing just that (to a point), as well as gaining a place upon a Federation vessel that would take him right back to his beloved home...but not for long.

"Yes." He softly replied, accepting some of the odd Terran liquid within a finely crafted Vulcan cup, "thank you."

It was at this point, taking the cup in one of his hands and sipping gently at the slowly cooling refreshment, that he took a few moments to study his opposite, both in race and in occupation. The almost mythical Ambassador Spock, a living treasure of Vulcan, in spite of his origins and extended service aboard a Starfleet ship, not that you'd think so by his outward appearance - a Vulcan male of average height, average looks and greying hair. No, it was his calm demeanour, his pure strength of will and presence that set him apart from any other over-logical member of the Vulcan race.

"Tell me, Ambassador," queried the Romulan, grimacing at the awful taste of the tea, placing the cup gently down and calming the twitching of his facial scar, "this [i]U.S.S Orion[/i] and its Captain, what can you tell me of them? I have my own files, [b]that[/b] I shall freely admit, but I would like a more profound opinion of those I shall be helping to understand my species...your opinion, if you please."