I realize I'm one to talk here, as vague as Tesseract sometimes is ... but I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LEFT US HANGING LIKE THAT! What's the proposal? So glad to see Damien alive and Kalara remembering why she loves him. He's such a great character in that he's something we haven't seen much of in Trek -- an actual civilian. Married to a Klingon, no less! Oh, and thank goodness for dermal regenerators and pushy husbands with security codes. That description of Kalara's shredded hand was wince-inducing. I don't care how Klingon you are or how much bloodwine you've been drinking, punching a mirror is just a bad idea. Doing it over and over again is borderline suicidal. I'm intrigued by the Ambassador. Can't wait to see where this is all going. As always, great stuff!
Another great chapter, Cap'n Sarine. I empathize with Kes7 re the cliffhanger, but it just guarantees that I'll be checking twice and not merely once a day for the next chapter to find out what happens next. The Ambassador---also an admiral in her own right, if I recall an earlier chapter properly---is intriguing (I bet she's got some Admiral Beckley in her---gleefully shivering in anticipatory dread), though I'm expecting nothing but a clusterfcuk to come from her machinations. I loved the Kalara and Damien stuff. Damien must be a strong person in Kalara's estimation, because I dont see a Klingon of her stripe allowing herself to be so vulnerable around a "weakling." He must be a helluva man to have won Kalara's heart---and we KNOW that there is no way to have the heart of a Klingon woman of the Lukara school without truly winning it. I have this memory that full-blooded Klingons aren't able to shed tears. I never liked that. Kudos to you, Joel, for giving them tear ducts. And plaudits on Kalara for being strong enough to accept Damien's love and return it. Even a Klingon should know when to stop being stubborn. By the way, after those first couple of chapters in which you started developing Kalara, I hardly expected that this would be the direction in which you take her. Thanks for surprising me, again, with awesomeness. The very literary legerdemain of you, Man! Live Long and Prosper... and write more! Obliged, 'Los
Well, Kalara's a bigger mess than I'd imagined. However, an alliance with Benjamani is only going to add to her troubles, if I'm any judge of character. And goodness, Sarine's going to have Chakotay Syndrome before he's done. I'm reminded of Chakotay's conversation with Tuvok, "You were working for Starfleet, Ceska was working for the Cardassians, was anyone on that ship working for me?" Riveting stuff... keep it coming!
kes7 LOL! I thought it would be relatively obvious, but I don't want to spoil the surprise, so you'll have to read and find out! I'm glad you like Damien - I think he's quite a good character as well. I was originally going to have them make up later on, but then Kalara went and punched the mirror without asking my permission and I had to change things around slightly! Yeah, punching mirrors? Not such a good idea. I think Kalara has got past it now, though. Glad you enjoyed it, I'll try and keep it coming! Diogenes I didn't want the ambassador to be too much like Beckley, who is a great character in his own right. She's slightly more in your face than the admiral - as her last meeting with Ba'el proved. However, she is definitely capable of the sneak-attack as well. Damien is a strong person, definitely. More importantly, he has enough of a personality to handle Kalara's Klingon outbursts without walking out. The tear-duct thing... Memory-Alpha says that although Spock does say Klingons don't have tearducts, there is a Klingon myth that says Kahless filled the ocean with his tears. So I'm going with the explanation that the Klingons like to tell other races they have no tear ducts to make themselves look hard! I'm so glad that Kalara's development has surprised you - to tell you the truth, it has surprised me as well. I have only a vague idea where she's taking me, even though originally I knew exactly where I was headed with her. So we'll see! Wow! Thanks so much! I'll try and write more and get a new chapter up ASAP! Gibraltar Kalara is hopefully getting over what has happened. Whether allying herself with Benjamani is a good idea... We'll see. LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL!!!!!!!! You bet! Mistral We'll see whether you're right. And as to what will happen then... I have a pretty good idea but we'll see.
Another crazy twist, though one that makes a strange kind of sense. The ambassador and Kalara both have reason to despise Captain Sarine. I don't like the ambassador - she seems too much of the power-hungry political type to me. I really do like Kalara, but I fear her judgment is clouded by her emotions and the remnants of the bloodwine. It remains to see what this alliance will bring about for Kalara, Sarine and the Restoration. I agree with the others - superb character work. It is very interesting to see the interaction between Kalara and Damien - very well done!
Well, I'm obviously glad that Kalara has a shot to come back on the Restoration. Not that I doubted that she would but I don't think I like her cutting a deal with the ambassodor who is, at best, misinformed or at worst an opinionated fool. A very cool chapter and I'm looking forward to see my favorite Klingon make some more waves. Captain Satine won't be happy to see her again. Well, he'll still get his Borg chief engineer. This is going to be one interesting group of characters your bringing together and the best part of it is, they'll be bringing enough baggage to fill two Jumbo jets. Awesome.
I find myself wondering how the Ambassador got the idee fixe that the good Captain was responsible for everything she thinks he's responsible for.. it almost seems that she thinks he's out to get her. Ah, paranoia... (The Computer is my friend )
TLR Thanks for the comments, glad you liked the chapter. The ambassador is more of a wrong things for the right reason kind of girl. I hope you'll enjoy where I'll be taking her. Kalara is a great character, I really enjoy writing for her. As to what this alliance will bring about... We'll see! CeJay You know I couldn't launch this ship without Kalara on board. I made my life difficult with what happened during the Klingon attack but sometimes when you follow the characters they take you along seriously difficult roads!! No, he won't be happy to see her. He's gonna need all the friends he can get with Benjamani and Kalara on his back! LOL! Yeah, you bet! FleetCaptainFrost Ambassador Benjamani just doesn't like anything unexpected throwing batons in her wheels and Captain Sarine is certainly one to throw batons in wheels!
Chapter 5 Captain’s Quarters Deck 9 USS Redemption Starfleet Construction Yards In Orbit of Romulus Ba'el stepped out of his quarters and began to walk towards the nearest turbolift. He had only taken a few steps, though, when a familiar voice called his name. "Captain Sarine!" He spun around to find Commander Turner running down the corridor towards him, obviously out of breath. She was still dressed in her flight suit, her hair plastered around her face where it had been stuck beneath her helmet. He smiled warmly as she drew closer. "Hello Commander. Welcome back. I hear you've been out flying escort missions." She stopped as she reached him, her mouth twisting as if she had sucked a spoonful of vinegar. "Unfortunately true. We've been flying cover for transport ships and freighters coming in from Klingon systems and leading them to Romulus." “Any trouble?” “Not even an asteroid.” "Sounds exciting.” "Not as exciting as it has been here from what I’ve heard. Is it true you brought some Borg engineers on board?" Ba'el grimaced. "A decision I may soon regret." "Why?" “Walk with me, Commander. I'll explain on the way." They set off down the empty corridor, Turner a few steps behind him. Ba’el turned his head round to glance at her. "I've had twenty-five requests for transfers since Kane and his collective came onboard, half of those from the engineering department alone. No one wants to work with them, and my chief engineer isn't the most outgoing people person you'll ever meet." They reached the turbolift, which turned out to be empty. Stepping inside, Ba'el waited for Turner to join him, then ordered it to Deck 5. Once it set off, he carried on. "I've had two thirds of the Admirals in Starfleet on the comm asking me what the hell I'm playing at and the other third probably waiting until today to do it." "Why today?" "I'm on my way planetside. I've been called before a review board to justify my actions during the Klingon attack." "But you saved the ship!” Turner exclaimed. “And the planet. What do you have to justify?" "I would imagine that the way I went about destroying the Klingon ship and my confrontation with Commander Kalara will probably have something to do with it." The turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors opened. Two ensigns stood on the other side - Ba'el recognised a Bajoran and a Ferengi who had been part of the last group of lower level officers to arrive on the ship. Both women stepped out of the way to let the officers pass, and then quickly stepped into the lift before it departed. "I'll never understand you fleeters," Turner was saying. Ba'el smiled wryly. "To tell you the truth, Commander, neither will I.” They walked on in silence until they reached Transporter Room 3. Ba'el stopped outside. "Well, it was nice of you to walk with me. I needed to blow off some steam and it's probably better I do it here than in front of three fleet officers." Turner grinned. "Any time, Captain. Always happy to help you blow off steam." Neither of them knew what to say next, so they just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Finally, Ba'el nodded decisively. "Well. I should get going." "Good luck Captain." "Thank you Commander." Feeling strangely embarrassed, Ba'el nodded again, then walked through the doors and into the transporter room. A tall Klingon stood behind the controls, looking strangely out of place. He saluted smartly when he saw Ba'el. "One to beam down to Starfleet Command, chief." "Aye, sir." Ba'el climbed onto the transporter padd, thinking back on what had happened with Turner. He hadn't felt so awkward around anyone since... No. It couldn't be. He allowed himself a tight smile. He must be imagining things - he was old enough to be her father. Shaking his head, he waited for the transporter effect to carry him down to the planet below. Wardroom 7 Starfleet Command Emergency Complex Beneath Ki’baratan Romulus Wardroom 7 was one of the only meeting rooms to have survived the Klingon bombing, mainly because it was buried about a kilometre underground. Without any windows to break the monotony of the green Romulan architecture, the whole room seemed oppressive. That’s probably the idea, Ba’el thought, grimacing. “Don’t be nervous, Captain, this is just a formality,” Commander Joshua Combs assured him as they settled into their chairs behind their table. Ba’el glanced at the young JAG officer and wondered whether he was supposed to feel better. He glanced at the table in front of him, his gaze taking in two of the three admirals who would make up the review commitee – Admiral Kovoth, a tall Klingon who was glaring at him from his seat on the left, and the Ferengi Qwert, sat on the right, filing his nails and sucking on one of his teeth. The centre seat remained empty. Just as Ba’el was wondering where the third admiral was, the sergeant-at-arms called everyone to attention. Ba’el followed Combs out of his seat, standing up straight as a dark-skinned Bajoran in a white admiral’s uniform strode into the room. Jaxon Sisko, he thought. Sisko took the centre seat, nodding without smiling to his two colleagues. He glanced at a padd in his hand, then looked up to the two men in front of him. “Three weeks ago,” Sisko began in a deep, commanding voice, “a fleet of Klingon attack vessels invaded Romulus space and destroyed Starbase 2, as well as 7 vessels that were under construction. The final Klingon battlecruiser was destroyed by a subspace aperture before it could destroy the USS Redemption. This inquiry will attempt to clarify the sequence of events leading up to and following the opening of that subspace aperture, and will decide whether any further action should be taken against Captain Ba’el Sarine.” Sisko turned to Combs. “Commander Combs, would you like to make an opening statement?” Combs stood, smoothing down his uniform. “Admiral, my client – Captain Sarine – is a war hero. His record as both a resistance fighter and a commander within the Alliance is undisputed. His actions saved the lives of billions of beings in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, as well as bringing a swift end to a war that would have spelled the deaths of countless billions more. We request that this review committee wash Captain Sarine of all and any suspicion, and confirm his command of the USS Redemption.” Ba’el glanced at the lawyer as he sat down and wondered whether his words had had any effect. One look at the table before him seemed to put pay to that idea. “Captain Sarine.” Admiral Kovoth spoke first. “Perhaps you would like to talk us through the events that led up to the Klingon cruiser’s destruction.” Ba’el nodded. “I was planet side when the Klingon ships arrived, having just finished a briefing with Admiral Qwert. I was in the process of interviewing a flight commander to lead Redemption's squadron of fighter pilots when word came in on the Klingon ships attacking the planet.” “That would be Commander Gemma Turner, correct?” “Yes, sir. Commander Turner and I headed for the flight bay as soon as the news of the attack reached us. I suited up and joined the attack.” “That seems slightly unorthodox doesn't it, Captain?” Ba’el turned to look at Sisko. “No, sir.” “No?” Sisko smiled coldly. “You don't find a starship captain joining a fighter squadron, putting his life in danger, to be unorthodox?” “It seemed a better idea that hiding planetside. Sir.” Kovoth interrupted. “Are you implying that those who didn't suit up are cowards?” Ba’el kept his attention focused on Sisko. “I'm just answering the question, admiral.” “Perhaps you would like to think more carefully about the way you phrase your answers, Captain.” This time, it was the Ferengi, Qwert, who had spoken. “Klingons are notoriously short tempered when their honor is impuned. But then you would know that, wouldn't you Captain?” Ba’el chose not to respond to the obvious attempt at baiting him. He kept his eyes on Sisko who looked down at his padd again. “The debriefing document here shows that you single handidly brought down a Dominion battlecruiser, Captain. Using another unorthodox use of tactics.” “Yes, sir.” “One that cost the lives of three pilots.” “How exactly did you come up with that, Captain?” Kovoth asked. “It was a tactic I used during the Resistance. It is highly dangerous, but also very efficient against Dominion ships.” “I see here that you flew under thir shields,” the Klingon asked, glancing down at his own padd. He looked back up and Ba’el would have sworn he saw a reluctant glimmer of respect behind his composed expression. “That must take some flying skills.” “Like anything, sir, it is as much luck as it is skill.” “Now, now, Captain, don’t be modest. The 789th Rule of Acquisition says…” “Not now, Admiral,” Sisko snapped. “Despite your claims to the contrary, it remains an impressive feat, Captain,” Kovoth said. “Thank you, sir.” “We're getting off subject,” Sisko growled. “The real reason this session was called was to discuss Captain Sarine's later actions, notably the order he gave to Lieutenant Jasto Dax. Captain, perhaps you would like to clarify why exactly you gave that order.” “It seemed like the most efficient way of stopping the Klingon ship at the time.” “Did you consider any other options?” “No sir. It did not seem that there was time.” “So you took it upon yourself to make a unilateral decision, based on poor information, and without consulting anyone else?” “With all due respect, sir, that is my job. As Captain of the Redemption, I have to make the tough calls in a combat situation, without the luxury of covering my own ass by requesting permission from the people who sit behind the desks and give us our orders.” Combs shot him a warning glance but Ba’el ignored it. “But that is the crux of the matter, is it not?” Sisko asked. “You were not officially captain of Redemption when you gave that order.” “Perhaps not under the letter of the law, no sir. But I considered that in that situation, the letter of the law did not apply.” “To you.” “Excuse me?” “Excuse me, sir.” Ba’el simmered, but he nodded an apology. “Excuse me. Sir.” Sisko nodded, apparently satisfied. “I said that you felt the letter of the law did not apply to you. Did it?” “Objection, sir,” Combs interrupted, getting to his feet. “You are asking Captain Sarine to perjur himself. Also, I would remind the board that according to Starfleet regulation 569, Captain Sarine was well within his rights when he gave that order.” “569 refers to a situation where the Federation is at war. We were not at war.” “With all due respect, sir, I think the Klingons would disagree with you. And I also think that the Federation High Court would find that the regulation does apply to undeclared conflicts as well.” “Be that as it may, Captain Sarine still placed the crew of Redemption, along with the whole Romulus system, in danger. His actions, taken without consultation, led to the death of an invaluable member of this fleet.” “And almost led to the captain's own death,” Combs reminded him. “Captain Sarine's bravery is not in question.” Ba’el placed his hand on Combs’ arm, then stood himself. “Then may I ask, what exactly is in question? Sir.” “Your total disregard for the chain of command. Your reckless actions and totally erratic decision making process.” Ba’el had had enough of this. “With all due respect, sir, I think this is about my actions at the Battle of the Belt.” Sisko shook his head. “Beyond the fact that your actions there were another example of you acting without authorisation and making a unilateral decision that affected an entire sector, I do not see the revelance.” “The revelance, sir, is that you are Bajoran and you cannot accept the fact that I am the one who destroyed the wormhole.” Silence fell over the room. Sisko glared at him, Kovoth seemed surprised by the allegation, while Qwert was considering Sisko as if seeing him for the first time. After a few moments, Sisko finally found his voice. When he spoke, his words were brittle. “You are way out of line, Captain. This review commitee is about you, Captain Sarine, and your total lack of...” “Excuse me but may I interrupt?” Ba’el turned his whole body around in his chair to see the door behind him. A tall human woman with white hair stood in the doorway, a small smile playing on her lips. A glance back showed that Sisko seemed more surprised than anyone. “Ambassador Benjamani? What can we do for you?” “Permission to approach the bench, Admiral.” Sisko looked uncomfortable, but he nodded reluctantly. Benjamani walked up the aisle of chairs, then round the table. Although she never once glanced at him, Ba’el couldn’t shake the feeling that she was aware of the slightest move he made. What is she doing here? When she reached the bench, Benjamani leaned in and began to whisper to the three admirals. From the frown on Sisko’s face, he did not like what he was hearing. He began to shake his head vigorously, looking over and glowering at Ba’el every few seconds. As the conversation progressed, though, both Admirals Qwert and Kovoth seemed to take Ambassador Benjamani’s side. Both men turned and began to argue with Sisko instead. Ba’el leaned in to Combs. “What is going on?” The JAG officer shrugged, his eyes never leaving the animated discussion playing out in front of them. Finally, Sisko seemed to give in. He straightened furiously and when his eyes met Ba’el’s, he could almost feel the hatred, like a living thing connecting them both. His voice shook with barely restrained fury. “In light of recent events that have been brought to our attention, this committee is hereby postponed until after the Redemption’s mission to Onyx Station is completed. Dismissed.” The dark-skinned Bajoran stood and strode out of the room, leaving a confused Ba’el to wonder what the hell had just happened. Starfleet Command Emergency Complex Beneath Ki’baratan Romulus Ambassador Benjamani tapped her foot on the floor whil she waited for Captain Sarine outside the wardroom. Her foot was the only outward sign of the turmoil boiling inside of her. Beyond that, she tried as best she could to project an outward shell of calm composure. To have had to intervene on behalf of that… that murderer had been infuriating to say the least. Finally, the door opened and Sarine stepped out, followed immediately by his advocate. When Sarine saw her, he stiffened, drawing the JAG officer’s attention to her presence. The young human straightened saluting. “Ambassador.” “At ease, Commander.” Ba’el’s eyes had never left hers. Now, he turned away, holding out his hand to his advocate. "Thank you Commander. You did a fine job." Glancing at the ambassador, the advocate shrugged. "I'm not sure how much I had to do with it... But thank you." "I promise that next time I'm before a court martial board, you'll be the first man I call." The lawyer smiled tightly, then nodded to both of them before walking off. As soon as he was gone, Sarine turned to face her. "Thank you for what you did in there, ambassador. Though I'll admit to being a little confused as to why you chose to intervene." "I thought you might be. That's why I wanted to speak with you directly." Sarine looked at her expectantly. "I just wanted you to know, I didn't do that for you. As far as I'm concerned, they should have found you guilty of every damned offence you were accused of and I would have added in a few more as well. I'd be perfectly happy if they locked you away and threw away the key. You're dangerous, Captain Sarine. I'm more sure of that now than ever." "Then why did you take my side? Why didn’t you just help them bury me?" "Because, someone else forced my hand. The Hegemony." “I don’t understand.” “I received a message from the Laurentii an hour ago. They have demanded that Redemption depart within the week or any proposed negotiations are off.” She stepped closer to him. “So you have one week to get Redemption out of spacedock and on it’s way to Laurentii space… or I swear I’ll make sure you’re right back here, facing a court martial for dereliction of duty. Ambassador Benjamani was used to most people, men and women, being unable to hold her gaze for long. Ba’el not only held her gaze, he glared right back. Finally, he nodded. "I guess I’d better get to work then." "You do that. Dismissed, Captain." Sarine saluted, turned and began to walk away. As he reached the nearest corner, Ambassador Benjamani called out to him. "Oh and Captain?" He turned back, an eyebrow raised. "Just so you know. The moment this mission with the Laurentii is over? I’m going to personally make sure you get everything you deserve." Sarine paused and then, to her surprise, he smiled. "I hope you do, Ambassador. I really do." Then he was gone, leaving Ambassador Benjamani to wonder what exactly he had meant.
Man, the good captain has about as many enemies as there are stars in the skies, doesn't he? Well, except of course for Turner. There's something else going on there between him and the plucky fighter pilot ... Great chapter and I can't wait once Ba'el finds out Kalara is back on Redemption. He's going to have kittens. So much fun.
If the devil himself put together a starship crew for maximum sadistic impact on every member of that crew ... the crew of the Redemption would top whatever he came up with. What a mess. Great job!!! Nice touch with everyone trying to bail over the Borg, by the way. I wonder, is there any hope for Kane to win them over? He and Sarine seem friendly enough with one another. Liking the dynamic between Sarine and Turner ... Another excellent chapter!
The tangled web of alliances and agendas here is enough to make your head spin! Its amazing that with everyone here having so many contradictory allegiances anything at all manages to get done. Sparks between Ba'el and Turner, eh? That will be a relationship to watch for. And Benjamani has to intercede on behalf of a man she can't stand... that's got to stick in her craw. Wonderful stuff!
CeJay Yeah, Sarine does have a tendency to make enemies pretty fast... I think it will be nice to see him interact a little bit more with his new XO and chief engineer who actually like him! And yes, there is definitely something going on between him and Turner... Though that is likely to make him even more confused! Glad you enjoyed it - we'll be getting to Kalara's return in the chapter after next. kes7 Wow! I top the devil?! Cool Kane is a difficult person to handle. Ba'el and he get along because of their shared history, not because they are actually friends. We'll be seeing a little bit more of Kane over the rest of Volume II, but not too much. He'll be much more important over the next few volumes, though. Glad you're enjoying the Sarine/Turner dynamix. Gibraltar Hope you're not spinning too much! And yet they do manage to get things done! But they haven't left spacedock yet... You can bet Benjamani is going to make Sarine pay for having to intercede on his behalf!
Chapter 6 Colin Grove’s Apartment The Empire State Building New York Earth Colin Groves had yet to grow tired of the view from his new apartment. No matter how many times he watched the sun rise above the East River, he always felt a thrill whenever the rays revealed the curved glass buildings of the Federation Headquarters complex. Though there were larger towers and more elaborate buildings spread throughout the rebuilt city of New York, it was over in that cluster of seven buildings that the vast majority of the Federation’s government work got done. Where he got his work done. Cupping a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, he leaned against the balcony, his robe snapping slightly in the sharp spring breeze. Behind him, his apartment was dark and quiet, as was most of the city below him. A few aircars provided the only sound at this early hour. Most of Manhattan slept. Feeling a slight chill, he headed back inside. He carefully closed the door out to the balcony, not wanting to make too much noise. The woman he had met the night before – Calysta? Alynna? – was still asleep. He glanced at the bottle of wine lying on its side on his low table, resting on a pair of pink panties. He had a vague memory of pulling them off with his teeth. Shaking his head, he headed for the kitchen. It was funny how women reacted when they found out he worked for the President. Most of the women he had slept with since beginning his job as Deputy Chief of Staff to President Baxter wouldn’t even have looked at him up until three months before. Now they were throwing themselves at him. The woman from last night had just been the latest in a long list. Not that he was complaining, of course. Reaching the kitchen, he turned on a light and headed to the small fridge. Before he reached it, though, his attention was drawn to the comm system on the bar. A red light flashed on the panel, telling him someone had left a message. How did I miss that? Picking up the earpiece, he stuck it in his ear and pressed the button to bring the system online. “You have one new message,” the mechanised voice said.“New message received this morning at 0510 hours.” Colin glanced at his chrono – twenty minutes before. He winced. Only one person would call him at this time in the morning. As expected, his boss’ voice came over the comm system. And she sounded pissed. “Colin, where the hell are you? Call me.” Sighing, he pressed another button on the comm panel, putting through a call to a large office on the twenty-seventh floor of Building 1 in the very complex he had been looking at moments before. His boss must have been sat by her comm panel, because she answered almost immediately. “Colin! Finally!” He smiled as she sat down next to the bar. “Nice to hear from you too, Myri.” “Don’t give me that. Where the hell have you been?” “Asleep. Like normal people.” “Where are you now?” “At home.” “Why haven’t you been answering? I’ve called you five times.” Colin rolled his eyes. Myriam Jones, Presidential Chief of Staff, sometimes forgot that not everyone slept in their office. Or were awake at five o’clock in the morning. You were awake though, weren’t you? “I was out on the balcony. What’s up?” “Have you seen the news?” “No. Why?” “Turn it on.” He did as he was told, switching channels until he found the Federation News Channel. When he saw who was stood before the gaggle of reporters, he groaned. The tall Klingon in a Starfleet Admiral’s uniform had been a thorn in the Presidential staff’s side since day one of their mandate. “What is he doing?” “Just listen.” Colin turned the sound up in time to catch a question from Barbara Wilson, a fellow Brit who worked for the New London Times. A right bitch, as well, he thought. “Admiral L’mpec, are you saying that the Federation is not going to take any retaliatory action against the Klingons for the deaths of tens of thousands of Federation citizens?” Colin could hear the tension in L’mpec’s voice. They must have been badgering him. “No, Barbara, again that isn’t what I’m saying. What I’m saying is… Listen, all of you, if you feel that the Federation isn’t getting involved enough against the Klingon Empire when we should be, I’d be the first to agree with you. I’m not the man you should be asking about this.” Colin felt a cold finger run down his spine. Oh no. “Then who should we be asking.” Don’t answer that. Don’t answer that. Don’t… “Have you tried the President?” Son of a… There was a moment of silence from the gathered reporters, then the room erupted, men and women, humans and aliens talking over one another and pressing forward to the podium, as if they could force the answer from the Klingon. “Are you saying that President Baxter is dragging his heels?” “Has President Baxter refused an actual battle plan, Admiral?” “Is Starfleet confirming the rumours that President Baxter is scared of attacking the Klingons?” “Oh shit.” The FNC commentator’s voice over began while the holo images showed Starfleet press liaison officers almost dragging Admiral L’mpec off the stand. “These scenes were filmed an hour ago at the Starfleet campus in Moscow, where Admiral L’mpec was giving a press conference discussing the latest developments in the investigation of the Battle of Romulus. The Admiral seemed to imply that Starfleet has been pushing for military retaliation against the Klingon Empire, a solution that a recent poll showed 76% of Federation citizens approved. However, Admiral L’mpec also implied that any kind of military response had been officially vetoed by President Baxter. Starfleet Press Corps officers have refused to comment on the validity of Admiral L’mpec’s statement, while President Baxter’s office has…” “How soon can you be here?” Myriam asked him over the comm line. Colin was already getting to his feet. “Give me fifteen minutes.” “Make it ten.” “You got it.” Ending the transmission, Colin popped the commline out of his ear. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Today was obviously going to be one of those days. Chief of Staff’s Office Building 1, Federation Headquarters Complex New York Colin sat across from Myriam Jones as she read the press release he had written in the taxi on the way over. “A bit harsh, isn’t it?” she asked, her eyes still skipping from left to right. “After what L’mpec said? I don’t think anything could be harsh enough.” “The President deplores the political machinations that have led Starfleet Command to this unfortunate impass, and vows that calmer heads will prevail in the decision making process.” She looked up at him. “You’re basically calling L’mpec a manipulative hot-head out for blood.” “Isn’t he?” She snorted, then looked back down at the padd. With nothing else to do, Colin looked around the room. Located just below the President’s, the Chief of Staff’s office had been decorated in the same manner as Myriam Jones’ own home. Wood panneling on the walls, warm red carpet under foot, and three different book cases carrying everything from a full folio of William Shakespeare to three copies of the Teachings of Surak. Behind her desk was a panoramic view of the East River and the forested district of Queens on the other side. “I think we should have Jean-Luc take a look at it.” Colin screwed up his mouth. “Oh come on, Myriam. By the time he’s through with it, we’ll be thanking L’mpec for his input. J-L’s a - -” “Did I hear my name used in vain?” Colin groaned as Jean-Luc Biseau walked into the office. Dressed in a fine tailored suit, with his hair impeccably brushed back from his forehead, he carried himself with the air of a French nobleman. The fact that he had been born on Mars didn’t seem to come into the equation. “Morning Myriam.” “Thanks for coming in J-L.” The President’s Communication’s Director sauntered over to the desk and took the seat next to Colin’s. Colin caught a whiff of some foul cologne as the other man sat down and started to cough. “Damn, J-L, how much of that did you put on this morning?” J-L sniffed and turned back to Myriam. “What have we got so far?” Myriam handed the padd with Colin’s draft press release over. J-L had hardly read three lines before his eyes began to bulge. “You can’t seriously be considering sending this out?” “What’s wrong with it?” Colin demanded “Apart from the fact that it is amateurish, it’s inflamatory, conflicting and full of spelling mistakes.” “There aren’t any spelling mistakes,” Colin said in disgust. “Children, children. Let’s not do this now.” She sighed. “We need to have a press release ready in the next hour. The longer we wait, the weaker we look. J-L, use Colin’s draft as a starting point. Colin, I want you to get on to your contacts at Starfleet Command. I want L’mpec’s retraction on my desk or his head on a plate, you got me?” “Yes boss,” both men said. “Good. Now get out of here.” Nodding, they stood up and filed out of the room. As they stepped into the corridor, J-L took a step closer, the smell of his cologne making Colin gag. Leaning in, he whispered in Colin’s ear. “Conciliatory is spelled C-O-N-C-I-L-I-A-T-O-R-Y, not C-O-N-S-I-L-I-A-T-O-R-Y.” “Oh, shut up,” Colin murmured and walked down the corridor to his office. Deputy Chief of Staff’s Office Building 1, Federation Headquarters Complex New York “I don’t care if he’s meeting with Kahless himself, I want to talk to Admiral L’mpec.” Colin glared at the Bolian Lieutenant-Commander on his screen, trying not to scream. “I’m doing everything I can, C, really I am. But no one will talk about what happened this morning.” “Dammit, Hor, we’re friends. Buddies. You know you’d never have passed Basic Klingonese in the Academy without me.” “Don’t throw that in my face again! It’s been ten years, C. Get over it.” “Listen, Hor, do you have any idea what a hornet’s nest L’mpec has kicked up? We’ve had every major power in the Federation on the line today demanding to know what the hell the President is playing at. We agreed in the last briefing that for now we were going to try and find a non-military solution to this mess. Officially, the Klingons claim they had nothing to do with attack, that K’mpak was a rogue element. We can’t have Starfleet Fleet Officers spouting off about - -“ The Bolian glanced at something off screen and Colin would have sworn his blue skin began to turn white. “Listen C, I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up later, ok?” “Don’t you dare hang up on me you…” He trailed off as the screen went blank. He hung up on me. Son of a… “Not going so well?” He looked up to see Elyra Li’tal, the Romulan Deputy Communication’s Director, stood in his doorway. He smiled wanly, collapsing back in his chair. “Not so much.” Elyra slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Colin tried not to stare at her shapely figure, barely restrained by a very tight pant suit. The red brought out the green of her eyes. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes, pretending to be thinking about anything else but the night they had spent together after Election Day. “None of my contacts will talk to me, Elly. They’ve all clammed up.” “Well, what did you expect? You’re not one of them any more.” “What?” He opened his eyes to see her sat in the chair on the other side of his desk. “What do you mean?” “You’ve gone native, Colin. You may have passed the same Academy courses, have served on the same ships, but now you’ve turned your back on the service. You’re not one of them anymore and so they don’t trust you. Especially not with the President’s office and Starfleet Command at loggerheads.” Massaging his temples, Colin tried hard not to scream. “I’m serving the Federation, dammit. Maybe not on a starship, but I’m still serving.” “Not as far as they’re concerned. You need to understand that, Colin. If you keep on acting like you’re still one of them, or like they owe you something, you’ll end up losing every contact you have.” She stood up. “Now, come on.” “What? Where?” “The President wants to see us. Everyone else is already in the Room.” “Already? Great. Just what I need.” Closing down his comm screen, he followed Elyra out the door into the outer chamber where his Ferengi secretary was working on getting another one of Colin’s contacts on the comm. Looking up as his boss stepped out, he grinned, revealing a tight row of sharp pointed teeth. Even after three months, they still made Colin uncomfortable. “Nargle, I’m going in to see the President. Try and get me Captain U’lar Batan aboard the Glory on the comm, ok?” “You got it boss,” the young up-and-comer said, grinning wildly. Colin forced himself to smile back, then stepped out into the corridor. He followed Elyra to the special turbolift and together they pressed their hands to the security panels, sending the capsule up one floor to the twenty-eighth, where the Office de Concorde – the President’s personal office – was located. Three members of the Secret Service stood on either side and in front of the turbolift doors. Colin and Elyra flashed their badges, and were waved through to the outer chamber. A dark-skinned Betazoid male sat at his desk just outside the President’s office. The President’s personal assistant, Baral Grax also served as a last line of defence – his empathic skills would allow him to detect anyone with bad intentions. He smiled wearily now and waved them through. “He’s waiting for you.” Wonderful, Colin thought. When the doors to the Office de Concorde opened, the President’s voice boomed out into the outer chamber. “- the hell do they think they’re doing? Tell me. What do they think they’re doing? I don’t have enough to deal with? I don’t believe these bastards. I want a retraction, Myriam. I want one yesterday.” Colin reluctantly followed Elyra into the semi-circular chamber, built to reflect the former presidential offices in the Palais de la Concorde. A large desk dominated the room, apparently the same desk where President Jaresh-Inyo had signed the Articles of Surrender at the end of the Dominion War. Behind the desk was an even more breathtaking view, this time of the forest of towers and spires of Manhattan. Seated on the large sofas or the several chairs that dotted the room were the majority of the President’s policy advisors, as well as Myriam, J-L, Press Secretary Gar’ka, a tall imposing Klingon woman, and Jatel Linak, the Cardassian Deputy Security Advisor. Stood with his back to the view, glaring at all of them, was President Morgan Baxter. “Mr President, we’ve been trying to get a retraction all morning,” Myriam was saying. “I’ve had my best people on it but as of this moment…” She glanced at Colin who shook his head slightly. She glared at him before turning back to the President. “We have nothing.” The President turned on Linak. “What the hell is Starfleet Command playing at, Jatel?” The young Cardassian looked very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have no more information than you do.” “How brave of Admiral Barker to send you in to play the sheep.” Turning away with disgust, the President’s eyes fell on Colin. “Colin, these were your people. What the hell is happening?” Stepping over to the nearest chair and sitting down, Colin refused to drop the President’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mr President, but I’m getting stonewalled. No one will talk to me. If you ask me…” He trailed off at a sharp gaze from Myriam, but it was too late. “If I ask you, what?” “If you ask me, I think L’mpec panicked up there. He didn’t mean to say what he did. Now Command is panicking. They don’t know what to do.” “And what are we going to do?” “Mr President, we have prepared a statement,” Myriam said, glaring at Colin again. She stood and handed the President a padd. “We have tried to show strength and yet be conciliatory at the same time.” “I don’t want to be conciliatory,” President Baxter grumbled, but he started to read the padd anyway. Everyone else stayed quiet until he had finished. Once he was done, he grunted. “This isn’t bad. Allows us to reiterate our position while still giving Starfleet a way out. Well done, Jean-Luc.” Colin looked away as the French Martian began to preen. “Still, I’d rather we steer clear of any reference to negotiations with the Klingons. Not until we know where exactly the Empire stands.” “Where does the Empire stand?” Colin spoke up. “Have we heard anything from the Ambassador?” “Unfortunately, Ambassador Kurak has refused all of my calls,” Mike Hannigan, the Federation Secretary of State replied. “They’re still holding to the party line – K’mpak was a renegade, his actions totally without the Empress’ approval, blah, blah, blah.” “How lucky for them that he’s dead,” J-L said. “And how the hell did Starfleet let that happen?” the President demanded. “Surely they should have been trying to capture him?” “The Klingon ship was destroyed while it tried to ram the Redemption, sir. The Laurentii mission ship.” “Have we heard anything from the Hegemony?” J-L asked. “Not since the attack,” Hannigan replied. “They passed on their condolences through Ambassador Benjamani on Romulus and…” “People, back on message,” Myriam snapped. “What would you like us to do, Mr President?” President Baxter turned and looked out the window. Colin watched his shoulders rise and fall as he breathed in and out, calming himself. The President might have a short fuse, but he also had the fortunate talent of being able to control his temper when he needed to. Finally, he turned back to the room. “Release the statement, minus the bit about Klingon negotiations. And I want Admiral L’mpec’s letter of resignation on my desk by the end of the day.” “Sir, I - -” Colin began, but was cut off by Myriam. “We’ll get it done, Mr President.” Before anyone else could say anything, the President’s comm line buzzed. Walking round his desk, the President pressed the button. “Yes, Baral?” “The Eugenics lobby is here to see you, sir.” Colin saw the President’s jaw clench. Through his teeth, he told Baral to let them in, then looked at the gathered advisors and staff members. “Thank you everyone. Keep me informed.” Everyone thanked the President, then stood and filed out. Colin was one of the last ones out. As he stepped into the outer chamber, he automatically studied the group of genetically engineered humans who had come to lobby the President over Eugenics’ rights. He immediately recognised the man stood out in front – Councillor James Kisburn, the charismatic leader of the Eugenics’ faction, and the first genetically engineered man to be elected to a government position. He scanned the others, and when he saw the woman stood near the back, his feet stalled and stopped. Myriam came up behind him, grabbing his arm and steering him towards the door. “Come on Starfleet,” she growled in his ear. “We need to talk.” He didn’t hear her, but he allowed her to lead him away anyway. All he could think of was that blond hair and those brilliant blue eyes. The same brilliant blue eyes he had gazed into over a bottle of wine the night before. Oh this is bad, he thought. This is so, so bad.
Wheels within wheels . . . Love the political machinations! You've added another great layer to this story along with additional great characters. The infighting amongst the president's advisors seemed all too plausible as did the clash between Starfleet and the president. Also enjoyed the review board scene with Ba'el. Very nicely done. Obviously Admiral Sisko hates Captain Sarine. The Ambassador's forced intervention just added more fuel to the fire. Glad that the good Captain has at least two friends (and a possible romantic interest? . . .) More, please!
Wonderfully layered political infighting which demonstrates how tenuous the new Federation government is, and how fractured their relationship with Starfleet has become. I liked all the characters, most especially the immaculate J-L and Colin, the ex-Fleeter. Keep it coming!
That chapter gave me a headache, which is a good thing. It means it was realistic. (Trust me, I know what I'm talking about -- but I think we've discussed this before.) Aren't politics lovely?
TLR Glad you liked both chapters, especially the political stuff in the last chapter. I love West Wing and any kind of political thriller, so I really wanted to work some of that into this chapter and the upcoming other chapters that will deal with President Baxter's administration. Yes, Admiral Sisko has it in for Ba'el for something Ba'el did during the war. I'm working on the next chapter, hope to have it up tomorrow night. Gibraltar So glad you enjoyed this. I was pretty nervous, since I wanted it to be good. Although Colin was planned out, all of the others kind of popped up as I wrote, so glad you liked them as well. kes7 I've answered you on your pm, but thanks for the comments!
For "popped up" characters you did real good. Liked Colin and J-L, enjoyed the court-martial. Now, what's this about Eugenics? Doesn't that still carry dirty connotations?