by Dayton Ward
In the perceived absence of genuine action on the part of their elected leaders, private citizens had begun forming their own groups, instigating a new wave of social and political activism fueled by a desire to preserve not only the Andorian species, but also those intangible qualities that defined their race and set them apart from their interstellar neighbors. Most of these smaller guilds demonstrated their dissatisfaction with the government by staging protests or taking out advertisements for distribution via the media. They held rallies in attempts to grow their numbers, but even as their ranks swelled they appeared to have no plan for how best to utilize the resources now at their disposal.
Such was not the case with the Treishya.
“It’s not just sh’Thalis,” th’Rusni said, “but several members of parliament, as well, all of whom are supported by large portions of their respective constituencies. Even those members who oppose the Progressive agenda are encountering resistance from the voting districts in their home prefectures. The issues we face have fractured the populace like nothing else in our history.”
Th’Gahryn nodded. “Understandable, if not forgivable, given the circumstances. These are trying times, and it is natural to question one’s own faith and principles when confronting adversity. Those whose convictions have faltered must be directed back to the beliefs that have defined us as a civilization, and it is our sacred duty to be their guide.” Consisting of both civilians and former as well as active military members, the Treishya had during its brief existence moved with deliberate patience, remaining in the shadows and largely beneath the notice of government and law enforcement as it strove to fill its ranks. People from many walks of life pledged their commitment to the fledgling organization, citing the same concerns over the apparent decay of Andorian society that had driven th’Gahryn to form the group.
To the public at large, the Treishya was ephemeral, existing on the fringes of even the most vocal activist dissenters like the True Heirs of Andor. Though the Treishya had enjoyed only modest public notice during its infancy, th’Gahryn had watched as awareness and backing for the group’s stated beliefs and mission increased. The spectacular failure of the Progressive-led science cabal to infect Andorian genetics with their “Yrythny solution” had raised concerns that further such injudicious actions were all but a threat to the security of the Andorian people. It was in this climate that groups like the Treishya had begun to thrive.
“The Progressive argument is persuasive,” ch’Drena said. “After all, they do present what would appear to be salvation for our entire species. While I don’t agree with them, I can see where others could come to do so.”
“But at what cost?” th’Rusni asked. “Will those born in the generations to come truly be Andorian, or something else? What heritage will your offspring embrace?”
Frowning, ch’Drena said, “It is not as though interspecies mating is unheard of. Other races are able to reproduce, though obviously with varying forms of medical assistance.”
“Which is precisely the point!” th’Rusni countered. “If it were to be, would nature not have allowed for it to occur unaided? Also, there are no known examples of Andorians successfully producing offspring when including an outworlder into their bondgroup. It cannot be done without artificial meddling, and isn’t this the sort of meddling that drives much of what the Federation represents? They’re never satisfied with just allowing people to exist; instead, they must insert themselves into matters about which they know nothing, or about which they demonstrate no appreciation or respect. Yes, the Federation and the Progressives, along with the puppets they control within our scientific community, may very well develop a solution that addresses the physical aspects of the issues plaguing our people. They do nothing for the larger matters at hand.”
Clearing his throat, ch’Drena said, “I merely point out that there are those for whom such considerations are unimportant, and I wonder how we might go about addressing them and perhaps rallying them to our cause.”
“I don’t believe such a thing is possible,” th’Rusni said, shaking his head. “Not at this point. There is too much division, too many voices shouting for attention and no one listening. We must take other, bolder actions if we are to make our message heard.”
Remaining silent while his two companions engaged in their lively debate, th’Gahryn clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace alongside the floor-to-ceiling windows comprising his chamber’s outer wall and affording an unfettered view of the night skyline of Lor’Vela. He very much enjoyed looking down upon the bustling city and the comparative tranquility that so characterized New Therin Park.
Perhaps a stroll through the park is in order after the day’s business is concluded.
Th’Gahryn said, “While I agree with you, Biatamar, we must remember that there is a fine line separating the support given to us by some segments of the citizenry and the utter contempt with which others regard us. Many may concur with our message, but our methods of delivery will be the criteria by which we ultimately are judged. We must therefore tread with utmost care.”
“By not taking more aggressive action,” ch’Drena said, “do we not run the risk of alienating those who might be placing themselves in jeopardy simply for advocating our cause?”
Th’Gahryn shook his head. “Such people are a detriment to our cause, Loreav. There is a reason our actions to this point have been restrained. Anyone familiar with my career knows I’m not opposed to aggressive action when and if it’s necessary, but I also prefer prudence and precision in an attack, rather than simply attempting to overpower an opponent. As with any battle strategy, planning and taking the time to understand your adversary is a crucial component of achieving victory.” In truth, several of the earlier attempts at incursion into the parliament compound as well as against various Starfleet and other outworlder targets had been designed as probing actions, intended to expose vulnerabilities in the security protocols being employed at different locations. The assault on the power-generation facility was largely a ruse, designed to test the mettle of the Starfleet team and their supporters with respect to the assistance they had pledged to provide. As expected, the team from the Federation starship had evacuated rather than risk damage to Andorian persons or property.
Moving against the Enterprise’s commanding officer also had been something of a feint, to see if Presider sh’Thalis might decide that the risks to outworlders were too great to proceed with the conference, and cancel the event. If she had taken the extra step of evicting all outworlders from Andor, that would have been a delightful additional benefit. At worst, th’Gahryn thought the teams he had sent might capture Jean-Luc Picard, allowing him to be used as a bargaining tool against the presider. That the mission had failed on those counts did not mean th’Gahryn viewed it as a waste of time and resources. On the contrary, it had given him valuable new insight into the character of Iravothra sh’Thalis, and her determination to see through the current difficulties and do what she considered to be in the best interests of the Andorian people.
It’s a pity that such conviction can be so completely misplaced.
As for the conference, that also would be an exercise in patience. With operatives already positioned within the parliament complex as well as utilizing various means to secure passes for entering the Enclave chamber, the Treishya would be ready to act if and when the opportunity presented itself.
“We’ve already made our position known,” th’Rusni countered. “We’ve announced ourselves, and declared our intolerance for further intrusion by outworlders, and yet they remain, defying us. Law enforcement and the Starfleet ship no doubt are expending tremendous resources to find us. Our time may well be limited, so at what point do we demonstrate that their failure to respect our demands carries consequences?”
Turning back to the window so that he might take in the breathtaking vista before him, th’Gahryn sighed, disappointed in his aide’s impatience. Youth, he mused.
“In d
ue course, Biatamar,” he answered after a moment. “In due course.”
27
For the fifth time in as many minutes, Jasminder Choudhury reached up and ran a finger along the collar of her dress uniform. Was it her imagination, or had it shrunk since she had first donned it less than an hour ago?
I hate wearing this damned thing.
“Excuse me?” a voice said from behind her. “Miss? When you get a chance, I’d like to see the wine list.”
Choudhury turned to see Lieutenant Rennan Konya standing in the doorway leading from the small antechamber, a command post for the Enterprise security team, wearing a standard-duty uniform and regarding her with a deadpan expression.
“Consider yourself assigned to waste reclamation once all of this is over,” she said, narrowing her eyes and regarding her deputy security chief with a mock glower.
Stepping into the room and nodding to the three members of the security detachment assigned to duty in the command post, Konya shrugged. “For how long?”
“Until you stop annoying me,” Choudhury replied, “or the universe collapses in on itself. Whichever comes first.”
Konya chuckled. “Just so long as you don’t make me wear a getup like that.” He paused, making a show of studying her. “Oh, but it looks good on you, though.”
“I know,” Choudhury said, tugging on the bottom of her jacket to straighten it. Captain Picard had ordered dress uniforms for himself as well as those members of the Enterprise senior staff who were scheduled to be in attendance at the conference, citing the formal nature of the event and their visibility to the attending dignitaries within the Enclave chamber. Everyone else from the ship’s security cadre, including Konya, would be manning checkpoints and other stations around the complex, and the captain had directed that those personnel wear more practical attire.
Given a choice, Choudhury mused, I’d rather be lying on a beach, wearing—
“Enterprise to Lieutenant Choudhury,” said the voice of Commander Worf, erupting from the intercom.
She smiled. Impeccable timing. Moving to the workstation, she keyed the control to activate the communications frequency, and the image on her computer terminal changed from the UFP seal to the visage of the Enterprise’s first officer. “Choudhury here, Commander.”
Regarding her with his usual intense glare, Worf said, “With the conference about to start, do you require any additional personnel or equipment?”
Choudhury shook her head. “No, sir. Between our teams and the troops ch’Zandi and th’Hadik brought along, we look to have everything covered.”
“There’re almost too many people running around down here, sir,” Konya added.
Though she said nothing, Choudhury nodded in agreement. Several meetings with the leader of the local Homeworld Security brigade and the head of Presider sh’Thalis’s security detail had been called in order to sort out assigned areas of responsibility during the conference and arrive at a scheme that would not see the three disparate units tripping over one another. Commander th’Hadik’s primary concern was protecting the presider, though he had at his disposal sufficient personnel to augment the Enterprise team inside the subterranean complex where the conference was to take place. External security also fell under th’Hadik’s purview, but he had transferred that responsibility to Commander ch’Zandi, who had deployed his brigade throughout the complex to supplement the Parliament Andoria complex’s already formidable security. With the exception of protecting Presider sh’Thalis and several other high-ranking parliament members, everything inside of and connected to the Enclave chamber was Choudhury’s to oversee. Accommodating all of the requests, suggestions, and even demands of her two Andorian counterparts had stretched Choudhury’s patience almost to its limit.
What we really need to make this go off without a hitch is three or four more people wanting to be in charge.
On the screen, Worf said, “If you feel that an excess number of personnel on the ground might hinder your efforts, I can speak to the captain about your concerns.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Choudhury replied. “I’ve already spoken to th’Hadik and ch’Zandi about it. We’re creating a reserve component and staging them at the barracks used to house the parliament’s security detachment. They can be deployed from there to just about anywhere in the complex at a moment’s notice.”
Konya added, “I’ve also set up transporter protocols for rapid response, just in case. Given what’s happened during the past couple of days, we’ve also reconfigured access by the public. We’ve reduced the number of entrances from eight to four. It’s making things a bit more crowded getting in, but by keeping attendees centralized, we’re able to concentrate security details at fewer locations.”
His features softening, Worf nodded. “Excellent work.”
“All part of the service, sir,” Choudhury said. During their own meeting earlier in the day, she and Konya had discussed with the first officer their joint belief that the Treishya would not pass up an opportunity to take some kind of action at the conference. Choudhury was somewhat confident that such an event was unlikely to occur on the first day, which was to consist mostly of introductory remarks by several speakers followed by a banquet and informal discussions to round out the afternoon and early evening. The meat of the conference would not take place until tomorrow, presented before a larger audience within the Enclave chamber as well as being transmitted across the global newsnets. To Choudhury, that was the ideal time to strike.
Of course, she reminded herself, whoever’s out there trying to outsmart you might be hoping you think that way.
“We are standing by should further assistance be required,” Worf said. Was it her imagination, or was there an added element of concern in the Klingon’s voice? Even if that was not the case, she decided she still rather liked thinking it.
Choudhury raised her right hand to her temple, offering an informal salute. “You’ll be the first to know, Commander. Choudhury out.” Looking to Konya, she said, “Got everything you need?”
Raising the padd he now carried in his hand, her deputy replied, “I think so. Unless you need me for anything else, I’m heading back to the main entrance. Spectators are still filing in, and the extra screening procedures are taking a bit more time than we anticipated.” He hesitated when applause erupted from the auditorium floor. “Showtime.”
“Sounds like it,” Choudhury said, glancing at the chronometer displayed on her computer terminal. “Let me know if anyone gives you any trouble about having to wait.” It had been agreed that anyone not seated in the Enclave chamber when Presider sh’Thalis took the stage would have to wait until the first scheduled break after she and the first three speakers offered their introductory remarks.
“Acknowledged,” Konya said over his shoulder as he left the room. Reaching for the communications panel set into her workstation, Choudhury tapped a control.
“Choudhury to all security stations. Be advised that Presider sh’Thalis is taking the stage. Protocol Alpha One is in effect for the duration of her remarks. All stations acknowledge.”
She listened to the different checkpoints and other positions within and around the building check-in, watching on her screen as the Andorian presider moved toward the podium at the center of the raised dais.
Well, here goes nothing.
The applause had subsided, and from his vantage point, Shar was able to view the audience without shifting position in his seat or even moving his head. Based on facial expressions alone, those in attendance looked to represent a wide range of opinions regarding the matters for which everyone had gathered on this day. Shar knew that the number of actual delegates and scientists invited to attend and speak at the conference comprised but a fraction of the audience. Most of the seats in the chamber’s tiered main viewing area had been reserved for other scientists and political figures from all across Andor. A large number of university students also were in attendance, with the remaining seats allocated
to ordinary citizens who had requested access, taking advantage of the open forum Presider sh’Thalis had proposed as part of maintaining transparency to the public throughout the proceedings. The sight of the Enclave chamber filled to capacity, hosting so many people who—for whatever reason—had taken an interest in these proceedings was as inspiring to Shar as it was nerve-racking. Would he really be speaking to so many onlookers in the coming moments?
Now standing at the podium and waiting a moment for the audience to settle themselves after their warm greeting to her, Presider sh’Thalis raised her arms and gestured toward the assembled onlookers. “Welcome, citizens and friends of Andor,” she said, her voice carried by the Enclave chamber’s exceptional acoustics. “More than two centuries ago, our world joined a coalition of planets dedicated to mutual cooperation and support, in which all participants agreed to share their knowledge and resources for the benefit of us all. Since then, we have stood side by side and defended our homes against outside threats, and we have stepped forward to aid our fellow member worlds during times of individual planetary crisis. After the destruction brought by the Borg, people across the Federation came forward to assist those in need, including the countless volunteers who even now devote themselves to the rebuilding of our world. It’s easy to forget or even dismiss such efforts, as the scars the Borg left are not easily visible here. Still those rebuilding efforts continue, and will do so for some time to come. However, that is not why we are here today.”