“You’re saying that people in general who want unity might not support the use of the military or other methods under normal circumstances,” Corthin said. “But with a sizable and vocal portion of the populace calling for unity, military action might become more acceptable to people.”
“Yes,” Spock said.
“I understand what you’re saying, but you’ve called us together under what amount to emergency procedures,” Dorlok told Spock. “I’m not sure why.”
“My concern is that because some powerful entity is pushing for Romulan unity, that may be more likely to occur in the near term,” Spock explained. “Once it does, the primary reason I employed in petitioning Praetor Tal’Aura to decriminalize the Reunification Movement—namely that it would drive public calls for Romulan unity—becomes moot. That being the case, I have no expectation that our Movement will remain legal.”
Nobody responded to Spock’s concern immediately, a thick quietude suddenly filling the cavern. But as the others appeared to consider the implications, D’Tan spoke up. “Our group has been illegal before,” he said. “That’s never stopped us.”
“No, but it has put all of us at risk, and some of us have lost our freedom because of it,” Spock said. “Others have lost their lives.”
“But my point is that we’ve all risked that before,” D’Tan said.
“It would be different now,” Corthin said. “Many people who support reunification have done so in public. Romulan Security—and probably the Tal Shiar—now know who many of us are, and most are everyday citizens who do not skulk through the Ki Baratan underground to avoid detection. It would be a simple matter to arrest large numbers of people.”
“But they would come for us first,” Dorlok said, stepping away from the door and deeper into the cavern. “They would want to take you in, Spock, and the rest of us who lead the cause.”
“There’s an old Romulan adage,” said Venaster. “‘Remove the head of the serpent, and though the serpent lives, it is a threat no longer.’”
Spock pondered for a moment about the apparent Romulan preoccupation with serpents—so many of their aphorisms seemed to mention the creatures—but then he pushed the thought aside. “What we must decide is how to proceed.”
“What can we do?” Shalvan asked. “They know who we are.”
“Not all of us,” Spock said. Unwilling to fully trust the praetor, he had successfully convinced the other leaders of the Ki Baratan cell that none of them should speak at any of the rallies. “What we can do is return underground.”
Dorlok laughed, showing signs of frustration. Lifting his hands to include their surroundings, he said, “We seem to have returned to the underground already.”
“You want to stop holding the rallies?” Corthin asked, plainly ignoring Dorlok’s comment. “Shut down our comnet presence?”
“I think it would be wise to consider doing both,” Spock said.
D’Tan hauled himself to his feet. “What you’re suggesting is giving up,” he said, his voice rising with emotion. “After all we’ve done . . . after all our efforts . . .”
“D’Tan,” Spock said calmly. He rolled onto his side and pushed himself up, until he stood facing his young friend. “I am not proposing that we abandon the cause of reunification. One does not take action in support of a moral obligation because it is easy; one does it because it is a moral obligation. And that is what reunification is for me.”
“And for me as well,” D’Tan said.
Across the cavern, Corthin stood up, followed by Venaster and Shalvan. “For all of us,” Corthin said.
Spock peered around at his comrades, taking a moment to appreciate them, before looking back at D’Tan. “Because we all want the Movement to survive, we must nurture it in ways that make the most sense for that survival. For now, I think that means reducing our profile.”
D’Tan looked away, clearly still upset. When he gazed back at Spock, he said, “Even if Romulan unity happens tomorrow, we don’t know whether Tal’Aura or Donatra will lead the new Empire.”
Spock did not bother to point out that with regard to the future head of a united Romulan government, numerous other possibilities existed. “If we are to ensure that the Reunification Movement continues, then we must wait to see if this call for Romulan unity succeeds, and once it does or does not, we must then evaluate how to proceed from there, based upon the identity of the Romulan leader.”
“If it’s Tal’Aura,” D’Tan said with almost childlike optimism, “then she might permit the Movement to continue legally.”
“She might,” Spock agreed. “But we will have to wait and see.”
D’Tan lifted his hands and opened his mouth as if to say more, but then he dropped his hands to his sides and said nothing. Instead, Dorlok said, “So we’re not going to arrange any more rallies, and we’re not going to continue our comnet presence. What are we going to do?”
“I think the first thing is to try to figure out who’s behind the Romulan unity protests,” Venaster said.
“I agree,” Spock said.
“I’ll contact T’Lavent and T’Solon,” Corthin said, naming the two women who had tracked down the connection between the protector in the Via Colius security station and Donatra. “They can start scanning the comnets for more information.” She strode across the cavern and through its lone entrance.
“Dorlok and I will see if we can find anything out from our military contacts,” said Venaster. “Somebody had to tell them to keep their distance from the protests.”
Spock nodded, and Venaster and Dorlok exited.
A sudden twinge gripped Spock’s back, and he reached to massage the spot for a few seconds. “Are you all right?” asked Dr. Shalvan.
“I am old,” Spock said, “but given that fact, I am well.”
“Good,” Shalvan said. “You know, if Romulan unity is achieved, it’s possible that neither Tal’Aura nor Donatra end up leading the new government.”
“I am aware of that possibility,” Spock said.
“Good,” Shalvan said again, “because you now have a lot of supporters on Romulus.” The doctor turned and walked toward the mouth of the cavern, leaving Spock speechless. The mere suggestion of any Vulcan becoming praetor of the Romulan Empire seemed ludicrous on the face of it. But before Shalvan left, the doctor looked back and said, “What better way to champion the cause of reunification than by being the top official in the Romulan government?”
After the doctor exited, D’Tan peered over at Spock and smiled. Again, Spock could find no words to say.
29
Captain Sisko stood at the top of a high promontory overlooking the Verinex Sea. The wind howled above him, obviously redirected away from ground level by the low wall at the edge of the cliff. Beyond that wall, white-capped blue waters stretched to the horizon. In the sky above, the oblate form of Achernar shined a cool bluish white.
Sisko turned away from the top of the bluff and saw that the surface of polished stone beneath his feet formed a wide circle that reached from where he stood to a fortress that looked centuries—if not millennia—old. The walls of the massive edifice drove into the ground at an angle in such a way that it caused the captain to turn around again and pace over to the low wall. Peering over it and down to the sea, he saw that the fortress had been built into the face of the cliff, the highest section of the continuous structure emerging from the land behind him.
Between Sisko and the summit of the fortress stood a cylindrical projection, about three meters tall and two wide. He walked over to it, and as he drew near, a door in its side arced open to reveal a waiting turbolift. Quite a reception area, he thought. The door glided closed as soon as he stepped inside, and the lift immediately began to descend.
Before he had transported to the surface of Achernar Prime, Sisko’s choice to beam down alone had been challenged by Commander Rogeiro. As much as he could, Sisko explained to Robinson’s first officer the sensitive diplomatic nature of his miss
ion. The justification didn’t appear to sit well with Rogeiro, but the commander stopped short of calling security to physically prevent the captain from leaving the ship.
Maybe he’s hoping I’ll get carried off by one of Achernar’s pterosaurs, Sisko thought, though he knew that the great flyers had been hunted almost to extinction, and that they resided in territories far from Romulan-inhabited areas. Or maybe he’s just hoping that Empress Donatra will shoot me on sight.
Though simply joking to himself, Sisko felt ill at ease about Rogeiro. The commander had performed his job well since coming aboard Robinson, despite the obvious discomfort he felt with his captain. Sisko had wanted—and still wanted—to keep to himself, but he hadn’t wished to cause anybody any trouble.
Tell that to Kasidy, Sisko reproached himself. He closed his eyes and tried to put such thoughts out of his mind. Over the past eight months, he had become far more adept at compartmentalizing the past and the present, the people who’d been in his life and—
The turbolift door slid open with a soft release of air. Sisko opened his eyes at once, then stepped out into a long, rectangular space. Made of dark stone, with low ceilings and cluttered side walls, the place felt confining. At the far end, Empress Donatra sat in what amounted to a throne, raised onto a dais. A pair of uniformed officers—a man and a woman—stood in front and to either side of her, both holding disruptors in their hands and aiming them in Sisko’s direction.
The captain waited for a moment, and when nobody said anything, he started forward. As he approached the empress, he glanced left and right, examining a collection of swords and shields hanging on the walls. Barely legible Romulan runes marked some of the dulled silver surfaces, giving the impression of great age.
When he had come within just a few meters of the throne, Sisko bowed his head, as he had been instructed to do when given his assignment. “Empress Donatra, I am Captain Benjamin Sisko of the Federation Starship Robinson. Thank you for granting me an audience.”
“I do so as an act of reciprocity,” Donatra said. “Your Federation President Bacco recognized my government and my empire when asked to do so.”
Sisko raised his head. To his surprise, Donatra had styled her look like no Romulan woman he had ever seen. Her dark hair reached past her shoulders, framing an attractive face that had high cheekbones, full lips, and beautiful green eyes. She wore an elegant black dress, with a narrow wine-red sash draped across her right shoulder.
“I understand that I am not the first Federation envoy to visit you,” Sisko said. Behind and above Donatra’s throne, he saw a stylized image of a raptor, shown in profile, only one of its talons visible.
“In the first seventy-five days of this new empire, I welcomed several visitors from the Federation, including several Starfleet captains,” Donatra said. Sisko noticed the hint of dark circles beneath her eyes, the only real blemish in her appearance, and a suggestion that she had not been sleeping well. “They had been charged with the unenviable task of attempting to persuade me to provide food to Tal’Aura’s illegal and immoral government.”
Donatra’s characterization of Tal’Aura’s praetorship struck Sisko as a possible challenge. Did the empress wish to gauge his reaction? Did she wish to see if he would either defend Tal’Aura’s position, or state the obvious fact that many believed Donatra’s own position bereft of legal and moral standing? If so, he had no desire to rise to the bait, and if not, there seemed little point in telling the empress what she already knew. Instead, he saw a way into the conversation he needed to have with Donatra. “As I understand it, you actually agreed to supply food to the Star Empire.”
“I did,” Donatra said, her expression hardening, “but my largesse was rebuffed.”
“I imagine the praetor didn’t have to accept food from you once Romulus joined the Typhon Pact.”
“The Typhon Pact,” said Donatra derisively, her voice rising. The two guards each took a pace toward Sisko, their disruptors still trained on him.
“With all due respect, Empress,” Sisko said, “I come in peace and unarmed.” He raised his empty hands, palms up.
“So you claim,” she said. “I trust that you are not here to negotiate with me for the benefit of Tal’Aura.”
“Tal’Aura who?”
Surprising Sisko once again, Donatra threw her head back and laughed. The captain smiled, pleased with the way the meeting had begun. Looking to her two guards in turn, she said, “Stand down.” Both guards holstered their weapons, then fell back to the edge of the dais. Donatra rose from the throne and stepped down to the floor. Not as tall as Sisko had thought, she stood a dozen or so centimeters shorter than he. “If not Tal’Aura,” she said, “then what did you come here to speak with me about?”
Sisko knew that he should not hesitate, and so he made an instantaneous calculation. “The Typhon Pact.” He had been given a great deal of latitude on how to conduct his conversation with the empress, as long as he focused on finding out from Donatra what President Bacco needed to know.
The empress appeared to take his measure. “Come with me, Captain,” she finally said, walking past him. The guards remained where they stood. Sisko turned and followed the empress, who headed back toward the turbolift, but then moved left to the wall, to a door that Sisko had not seen on his way to the throne. Donatra reached forward and took hold of a handle that Sisko hadn’t seen either. She pulled the door open and the two went through it.
Inside, a small room mixed the functions of a basic kitchen and a dining area. A brazier stood in the center of the space, with a large, hooded vent reaching down from the low ceiling above it, obviously to carry away smoke. Off to one side, two chairs had been set around a small table. As Donatra moved toward the table, a man walked over and pulled a chair out for her. “May I offer you something to eat or drink, Captain?” she asked as she sat down.
“Thank you, no,” Sisko said, taking the seat opposite her.
“That will be all,” Donatra told the attendant. As the man withdrew to the far corner of the room, Sisko noted a revealing prominence on the man’s hip. It appeared that Donatra did not believe in leaving herself unguarded.
“So tell me, Captain, why I should be interested in discussing Tal’Aura’s alliances.”
“Because even without Tal’Aura’s own military capabilities,” Sisko said, “the Tzenkethi and the Breen and the Tholians and the Gorn and the Kinshaya can take the Imperial Romulan State from you and return it to the Star Empire.”
Donatra’s eyes narrowed, the idea of such an event clearly not enthusing her. “They can,” she allowed, “but will they?”
Sisko thought the question rhetorical, but she appeared to wait for a response. “The last thing I want to do is get inside the mind of a Tzenkethi,” he said. “But since it’s evident that Tal’Aura wants to unite the two empires, it seems to me that she might lobby her newfound allies to that cause.”
“I’m sure the traitorous Tal’Aura will try to lobby anybody she can to her cause,” Donatra said. “That does not mean that she will succeed. She may have thrown away the dignity of her Empire by aligning it with other powers, but that does not mean that those powers would be interested in involving themselves in a Romulan civil war. In fact, I think it unlikely that any of the Typhon Pact member nations would want to strengthen Tal’Aura’s position. Nor would they want to risk hostilities with the Federation and the Klingons.”
Sisko felt his eyebrows rise. “There are no mutual-defense agreements between the Khitomer Accord nations and the Imperial Romulan State, Empress.”
“Not yet,” Donatra said. “But the Federation is well known for coming to the aid of its friends. Besides, I don’t think that President Bacco likes or trusts the Typhon Pact any more than I do, and I cannot imagine that she would want to see it strengthened by allowing Tal’Aura to take control of this nation and its resources.”
Sisko held up his hands as though warding off the turn in the conversation. “I am not a diplomat,
Empress, nor am I an admiral in Starfleet Command,” he said. “Not only am I not authorized to discuss the views of the Federation president or Starfleet’s commander in chief, I don’t know their views.”
“Not a diplomat?” Donatra said, her words filled with disbelief. The empress rose from her chair and crossed to the center of the room, to the brazier. “Not exclusively a diplomat, no,” she said, “but you are obviously many things.”
Sisko took the implication as a reference to his time as Emissary of the Prophets. He did not doubt that Donatra had checked his background before meeting with him. “We are all many things, Empress,” Sisko said.
“Indeed,” Donatra said. She picked up a metal poker and jabbed it in the brazier, which sent up a flurry of glowing embers. “One thing I imagine you to be, Captain, is a patriot. For Earth, for Bajor, for the Federation.”
Wanting to avoid any discussion of his own past, Sisko simply reiterated Donatra’s own words. “As you say, Empress, I am many things. As, I’m sure, are you.”
“I am,” Donatra said. “And I am a patriot. For the Imperial Romulan State, but also for the Romulan people in general. That includes those unjustly resigned to living under Tal’Aura’s rule.” She tossed the iron into the brazier, where it landed with a metallic clank. Peering back over at Sisko, she said, “Come with me, Captain.” She skirted the brazier and walked toward the wall to the right of the one through which they had entered. Her attendant strode over and opened a door there for her, revealing a long, narrow passage beyond it. “Remain here,” Donatra told the man.
Sisko followed Donatra through the straight corridor until they reached another door. She pulled it open, then walked through. Sisko did as well, and found himself standing on a balcony lodged along two rock faces that met at right angles. The balcony described a quarter of a circle, an elaborately carved marble railing at its edge. Sisko peered upward and saw the precipice atop which he had stood before descending in the turbolift. Below, the Verinex Sea dashed itself against the base of the cliff, the roar of the encounter between water and stone constant and loud.
Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Rough Beasts of Empire Page 24