by Dayton Ward
The Tholian paused, and to Worf it seemed as though the ambassador might want his audience to ponder that last point for a moment. He reviewed what Nreskene had said, sensing there was something deliberate about the way in which the information was being imparted. Having engaged in diplomatic debate on more occasions than he could count, the Klingon had learned to discern when someone was laying an oratorical trap. It was exactly the sensation he was now experiencing as he listened to the Tholian’s words.
Wait . . .
Even before Nreskene resumed speaking, Worf realized that the ambassador had already provided the clues to detect that trap, which he now was about to spring.
“Despite the enthusiasm within our own scientific community,” the Tholian said, “what also was intriguing was the apparent fact that this same information has been in the hands of Federation and Starfleet officials since its discovery. While the Federation has made available to Andorian scientists a great deal of data and materials in the areas of genetic research, they appear to have taken deliberate steps to avoid disclosing this information. Considering the potential it represents, as evidenced by Professor zh’Thiin’s work and progress, one must wonder what could have motivated anyone to keep such knowledge hidden.”
“Talk about cutting our legs right out from under us,” Chen said, her voice barely a whisper.
Worf could only nod in agreement. Whatever this Tholian was playing at, whether truthful or complete fabrication, his revelations likely would be having an immediate, tangible effect down on Andor, sending the government officials, media outlets, and ordinary citizens scrambling for understanding. An all-new flurry of explosive emotional responses would surely follow, compounding that which already was coursing through the Andorian populace.
Nreskene said, “More than a century ago, the discovery of the formidable power once wielded by the Shedai was the cause of much strife between the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and even my people. Escalating tensions all but led to open warfare between the three parties. With that in mind, it seems obvious why the information was concealed and an earnest attempt made to obscure if not deny what happened. However, that was long ago, and the interstellar political situation has since drastically changed. With all the Federation currently faces with respect to rebuilding in the aftermath of the Borg invasion, one would think they would want to assist those in need, and most especially one of their oldest, most trusted member states. After two centuries of steadfast alliance, should the Federation not be doing everything in its power to help Andor, especially if they hold in their grasp a potential answer to your problems? As one member of a race that was also once subjugated for the benefit of another civilization, I find such actions to be most disgusting.”
“Subjugated?” said Lieutenant Elfiki. “Did he just imply that the Federation enslaved Andor? This guy is definitely a politician.”
Worf glanced at Chen, who was regarding him with an expression of troubled skepticism. “They’re really taking us out for a ride, aren’t they?”
“Perhaps they are unwilling to extend every effort on behalf of a trusted ally,” Nreskene continued. “Only their leaders can confirm or deny that. However, those I represent have decided that a new approach is in order: one of candor, not only among ourselves but also to those with whom we must share this quadrant of the galaxy. Therefore, as our first official act of goodwill, we publicly acknowledge our role in Professor zh’Thiin’s research, and pledge to provide her with our continued support, in the hope of bringing about a true solution to the problems Andor faces. We await your answer with utmost enthusiasm.”
With that, the Tholian’s image disappeared, replaced on the viewscreen by that of the ambassador’s ship. Around the bridge, crew members had turned from their stations staring at one another with varying degrees of confusion and disbelief.
“Lieutenant Elfiki,” Worf said, still trying to process everything he had just heard, “package a copy of that message and stand by for transmission to Starfleet Command.” He would not send it just yet; he would wait until Captain Picard weighed in on the matter, but it was likely that the captain would soon be having an animated conversation with someone back on Earth. Regardless of whether the Tholian was being truthful with the revelations and insinuations he had made, the effects on the Andorian populace were sure to be nothing less than explosive.
T’Ryssa Chen, it seemed, had reached the same conclusion, and when she looked to Worf, it was with her right eyebrow arched.
“I could be wrong, but you might want to think about setting the ship’s phasers to stun the whole planet.”
Her suggestion, Worf decided, was not completely without merit.
32
“Madam President,” Sivak said as the doors to Nanietta Bacco’s office parted to admit the Vulcan, “the Tholian ambassador is here.”
Occupying one of the chairs in front of Bacco’s desk, Admiral Akaar turned to regard the president’s assistant. “Did she travel here via the Delta Quadrant?”
“I do not have her itinerary here with me, Admiral,” Sivak replied, his right eyebrow arching, “but I can certainly obtain that information if you desire.”
Bacco pulled herself to her feet. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, offering their banter a dismissive wave. “Send them in, Sivak.” She then directed a mock glare at Akaar. “You. Behave.”
Moving from his chair to stand to one side of the desk so as not to be standing next to or in front of Bacco when her guest arrived, the admiral replied. “I have always endeavored to conduct myself with utmost tact, Madam President.” That he managed to say that without cracking a smile was almost enough to make Bacco laugh, which would have provided a nice lift to her current mood. Her ire at having been forced to await an answer to her request for this meeting, coupled with the added delay as the diplomat’s estimated time of arrival seemed to shift with the direction of the breeze blowing across the River Seine, was beginning to wear on her patience. It seemed as though every meeting she had with Tezrene, former Tholian ambassador to the Federation and now one of the diplomatic representatives of the Typhon Pact currently residing on Earth, was less productive and more contentious than its predecessor.
“Well, let’s put on our happy faces and make nice for our guest,” Bacco said just before her office doors slid apart to once again admit Sivak. This time, her assistant was followed by four members of her presidential protection detail, who in turn accompanied a lone Tholian. As always, the ambassador wore her environmental suit, comprised of golden silk and containing the harsh, toxic atmosphere native to her homeworld and deadly to most humanoid life-forms.
“President Bacco,” Sivak said, stopping in front of her desk and speaking with the official tone he reserved for making such introductions, “I present Tezrene, Tholian ambassador to the Federation and official representative of the Typhon Pact.”
“Thank you, Sivak,” Bacco said, and the Vulcan took his cue to exit the office. Bacco waited until the doors closed behind him before directing a stern gaze toward Tezrene. “Well, Ambassador, thank you for taking the time to meet me, though I have to say that for a people who place such a high value on punctuality, you sure do like to keep others waiting.” Standing as he was just behind and to the ambassador’s left, Akaar was not within the Tholian’s line of sight when Bacco saw his eyes widen and he regarded her with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Every feature of his wizened visage seemed to ask, “Did you not just tell me to behave myself?”
Rank hath its privileges, Leonard.
To her credit, Tezrene at least attempted to appear repentant. “I apologize for the delay in answering your request for a meeting, Madam President,” she said, her native language interpreted through her environmental suit’s embedded vocoder device and offering a translation that seemed to give the ambassador a flat, computer-like voice. “I was unavoidably detained by urgent matters requiring my immediate attention.”
Bacco said, “Yes, you have been busy
, haven’t you?” Stepping away from her desk, she moved to stand directly before the Tholian, though not so close that her protective detail could not step in to block Tezrene’s path should the Tholian be so bold—or stupid—as to attempt a direct physical threat against her. “That was quite the proverbial bombshell your Ambassador Nreskene dropped on Andor.”
“We prefer to think of it as correcting a glaring omission of fact, Madam President,” Tezrene replied. “Given the unprecedented success Professor zh’Thiin seems to have found with her research, and the obvious benefit it would appear to represent for the Andorian people, my government thought it prudent to disclose the truth behind the wondrous discoveries the professor has made.”
Her eyes narrowing in suspicion, Bacco said, “So, you’re claiming credit for zh’Thiin’s work?”
The ambassador emitted a series of clicks and snaps that were not translated by her suit’s vocoder, before answering, “Not at all. Indeed, we celebrate the progress Professor zh’Thiin has made with the limited information we provided to her.”
“So,” Akaar said, moving forward so that he was now in the Tholian’s field of view, “if I understand you correctly, Ambassador, you did not give Professor zh’Thiin a complete record of the information you possess regarding the Taurus meta-genome?”
“That is correct, Admiral,” Tezrene answered. “I am authorized to tell you that while our grasp of the full potential to be found within the Shedai data repository is by no means complete, we have been making great strides to further our understanding of all it represents.”
Frowning, Akaar said, “Forgive me, Ambassador, but that seems a bit far-fetched. It has been more than a hundred years since the meta-genome’s discovery in the Taurus Reach. Considering everything that happened in the years following that find and the genetic links between your people and the Shedai, one would think Tholians ideally suited for decrypting that information.”
“You would be correct, Admiral,” Tezrene said. “That much was demonstrated more than a century ago. However, for a time, we believed that shunning the Shedai and everything associated with them was the best course of action for our people. As time has passed and new perspectives are gained, we have begun revisiting those earlier decisions.”
Bacco was certain that she did not at all like what the ambassador seemed to be implying. After all this time, were the Tholians truly digging back into the secrets of the Shedai, and the immeasurable power they once commanded? So great was their influence, at least according to what Bacco had learned, that the Tholians had feared traversing the Taurus Reach, that section of space over which the Shedai once had ruled, for millennia after the ancient race was believed to have died out.
Well, it sounds like they’ve gotten over that, she mused, her thoughts briefly turning to the conversation she had shared with Akaar just a few nights earlier. Despite the admiral’s estimation of the Tholians’ motivations, might they actually be considering sharing with the other members of the Typhon Pact any of the Shedai’s secrets that had lain dormant all this time?
“You seem to be making rapid progress,” Akaar said.
Tezrene replied, “It was only after the rescinding of such mandates and following prolonged research that our scientists were able to comprehend those facets of the meta-genome which allowed my government to offer assistance to Professor zh’Thiin.”
“It’s a very magnanimous gesture on the part of the Tholian Assembly,” Bacco countered. “Tell me, Ambassador: why not simply approach us directly? This sounds like the sort of collaborative venture that seems to have eluded us all these years.” As Tezrene formulated her reply, Bacco was sure that if the Tholian could shrug, she would have done exactly that.
“My government saw no gain to be acquired by taking such action, Madam President.”
Despite the fact that Tezrene appeared to have deliberately phrased her response in such a fashion as to provoke a reaction, Bacco still felt the momentary urge to suggest to the ambassador other possible courses of action, several of which involved inappropriate acts which might be undertaken individually or perhaps with the assistance of various relatives. She forced herself to count to ten before saying another word, all the while regarding the Tholian with what she hoped appeared to be polite indifference. Even as she studied Tezrene’s shielded face, which of course offered no visual clues as to what that ambassador might be thinking, Bacco doubted that her own charade was having any tangible effect.
Damn, but I bet Tholians make hellacious poker players.
“And just how long have you been supplying Professor zh’Thiin with this information?” she finally asked.
“More than a year, as you would measure it,” Tezrene replied.
Of course, Bacco thought. It would not have been long after the Tholian Assembly’s decision to join the Typhon Pact, but their research into the Taurus meta-genome obviously predated even that bold political maneuver. Whether they had planned all along to use whatever knowledge they gleaned from the long-dead Shedai in a bid to make life difficult for the Federation was anybody’s guess, and Bacco knew she would never receive a straight answer to such a blunt question.
She asked it, anyway.
“So, all of this—the theatrics, the lurking in the shadows, coming out on an interstellar stage to show how much you can stick it to the Federation—is just a bid to screw with us?”
Tezrene paused, and Bacco figured the ambassador’s vocoder was translating some of the colloquial idioms she had thrown into the middle of their verbal joust. Then, the Tholian replied, “It appears that your arrogance continues unabated, Madam President. As we have tried to communicate to you in the past, it should seem obvious that our goals are to benefit our people. Any secondary effects the attaining of those objectives might have upon the Federation, and you personally, are secondary in nature, though they of course do not pass unappreciated. Perhaps I was simply being too subtle during our past discussions, so allow me to be clear: How you choose to react to any action we take is of little consequence, either to my government or the Typhon Pact. Nothing we have done is in violation of any interstellar law or treaties currently binding on our two peoples. Therefore, any concerns you might raise are simply not relevant.”
Then, as though suddenly made aware of something she might have forgotten, Tezrene shifted her stance on the set of six limbs supporting her squat, crystalline body. “I do apologize, Madam President, but as I expect we have nothing further to discuss and I am due at another appointment, I must therefore take my leave of you.”
“So what happens now?” Bacco asked, willing the words to sound measured and controlled and offering no hint of her mounting frustration.
Lifting her two foremost limbs, Tezrene brought them together before her. If she had possessed hands like a humanoid’s, Bacco would have expected the ambassador to interlace her fingers. “I am but an observer to these proceedings. My government does not see fit to inform me with respect to certain facets of its agenda. I expect that I will discover their plans just as you do. Good day, Madam President.”
Despite her instinct to call Tezrene on the abrupt nature of her leaving, Bacco waited until her protection detail escorted their charge to the exit, and even until the doors opened before she called out, “Ambassador.” She watched as the Tholian halted her departure, turned to face her once more.
“Yes, Madam President?”
“Just one more thing before you go,” Bacco said. “It’s possible that I also was too subtle earlier, so let me explain this for future reference: I don’t like to be kept waiting. I don’t tolerate it from the people I like, so you can imagine how little regard I have for anyone else. So, while you’re on my planet and enjoying the hospitality of the people who live and work here, when I call for you, I expect you to be here before the echo dies. You want to get in a political pissing match with me, you can do it from your own damned planet. Am I making myself perfectly clear, Ambassador?” She counted the seconds Tezrene spent in s
ilence, regarding her with the implacable façade afforded her by her environmental suit. The count was twelve when the Tholian finally responded.
“Duly noted, Madam President. Good day.”
Akaar, to his credit, waited until Tezrene and her escort had left the office and the doors had slid closed behind him before deigning to say anything.
“And to think, all this time I believed I was the diplomatic one.”
“Shut up,” Bacco said, reaching up to rub her forehead. A sudden pressure, slight yet still noticeable, was beginning to build behind her eyeballs. With luck, she decided, her brain would explode, and all of this would be someone else’s problem.
I don’t have that kind of luck.
“Madam President,” Akaar said, his tone impassive, “what would you like to do now?”
“All sorts of things, Leonard,” Bacco said, “most of which would end up having me tried for one charge or another. In the meantime, it looks like I’ll be spending some time with the Council, because nothing solves problems better than a gaggle of politicians talking it all to death.”
33
“All requests for interviews with the presider or any member of her administration continue to go unanswered. We are also awaiting official comment from the Federation ambassador as well as the Starfleet liaison. The scene outside the parliamentary compound as well as the Federation embassy is one of intense activity, with hundreds of citizens converging on each location and demanding answers in the wake of the unexpected yet controversial message from the Tholians.”