Part 35 (2/2)
”That our governments jointly support MOE-or HapHoch, or whatever it winds up being called-and give them every chance to do what they want to do, and do it right. Let's give them support from Starfleet and the Defense Force. And let's show that we can work together on this and move forward on this and not let outmoded prejudices get in the way of doing the right thing.”
Martok threw his head back and laughed. ”It has been a long time, Madam President, since I was able to convince anyone on the High Council to admit their prejudices were outmoded-much less that they should do the right thing. However, I will bring this to them and make it clear that I wish it to be so.”
Bacco smiled now, for the first time since she brought this up. ”Thank you, Chancellor. I think the best thing for all our people is to work together as much as possible. The galaxy's gotten too small for us to keep hiding behind neutral zones and ethnocentric biases. And I think, my friends, that that's it.”
Tal'Aura then spoke. ”I'm afraid there is one more thing that I must discuss with you both.”
Looking at Martok, Bacco said, ”Well, I already went off the playbook, so I'm in no position to argue. Chancellor?”
Martok's instinct was not to care what the Romulan had to say, but she had also been very subdued throughout this entire summit, partic.i.p.ating only as much as had been necessary. Given how hard her people had worked to get her here, it seemed odd to Martok that she would then have declined to involve herself in the goings-on of the summit itself. He suspected that the answer to his unspoken question would come from Tal'Aura now, so he nodded his affirmation.
Tal'Aura took a moment before she finally spoke. ”Within a few days, an announcement will be made on Achernar Prime by Commander Donatra. She will be calling herself Empress Donatra, actually, and she will declare Achernar Prime, as well as all the worlds in that star system and three or four more besides-including Xanitla, Ralatak, and Virinat-to be the Imperial Romulan State under her rule.”
”And how does this concern us?” Martok could have answered his own question-it was a cause for celebration. Tal'Aura had been holding the empire together with her teeth, and now two large morsels had slipped through.
”Those three worlds are our primary farming planets,” Tal'aura snapped in a voice that sounded even more like Sirella.
”Does she have the support of the rest of the military?” Bacco asked.
”No-many are still loyal to me. However, the s.h.i.+ps she has are guarding those three worlds.”
Bacco nodded. ”She's holding the empire's food supply hostage?”
Tal'Aura nodded. ”I have managed, over the past year, to unite at least some of the factions. The Tal s.h.i.+ar, Durjik and his radical sect, and several admirals and commanders have all pledged their loyalty to me. But Donatra has fought me every step of the way. Now she has seceded from the empire.”
”I'm afraid,” Bacco said, ”that I'm with Martok. What is it you want from us?”
”To not recognize the Imperial Romulan State. To refuse to trade with them, to impose sanctions upon them, and to aid us in retaking their worlds for the Romulan Empire.”
Martok snarled at her. ”You wish me to commit Klingon warriors to fight for a united Romulan Empire?”
”Donatra will reach out to you as an ally, or at least as a trading partner, offer you the resources she is now denying us in order to build her strength. And then, when she is powerful enough, she will try to succeed where s.h.i.+nzon failed. Remember, Donatra was on s.h.i.+nzon's side.”
”So, Praetor, were you,” Martok said in an even tone.
Bacco had been unusually quiet. In a soft voice, she said, ”You're giving us a lot of hypotheticals here, Praetor, but none of this has even happened yet. Either way, though, I can tell you this: Like Chancellor Martok, I can a.s.sure you that there's no way in h.e.l.l I'm committing any military resources to help you out.”
”If you don't, our people will starve.”
”There, we'll be happy to help you. If your people need food, we'll provide it. But we're not gonna take sides in your little internecine conflicts.”
Sneering, Tal'Aura said, ”You are condemning the Romulan people to a slow and miserable death.”
Bacco stared intently back at the praetor. Then, speaking with more iron than Martok would ever have expected from a frail-looking, elderly human woman, she said, ”No, Praetor, you did that when you left a thalaron bomb in the senate chamber on s.h.i.+nzon's behalf. That is what put you on this course, and if you find now that you can't turn around, then I will pity you, and I will help you in whatever way I can, but I will be d.a.m.ned if I will let you try to foist the blame on me. You got into bed with a lunatic, Praetor, and now the people you claim to lead are paying the price for your stupidity. If the Imperial Romulan State does indeed declare itself a sovereign ent.i.ty, then the Federation will carefully consider whether or not to recognize it as a legitimate government. I can tell you this for d.a.m.n sure: Our decision will take a lot of factors into account, but what makes your life easier will be extremely low on that list.”
Tal'Aura turned her gaze to Martok. ”I a.s.sume that the Klingon Empire, as usual, trails behind the Federation like a pet eager for approval?”
”No.” Martok smiled. ”The Federation may require time to make that decision, but the empire's is already made. We will recognize any political ent.i.ty that fractures the Romulans further.”
That obviously did not please Tal'Aura, which only pleased Martok more. After a brief silence, she rose from her chair and left the meeting room, the two centurions trailing behind her.
Bacco looked at Martok. ”Can't say as that was much of a shock. Honestly, I'm amazed the empire's held together as long as it has. I figured they'd start falling to pieces once you guys took the Remans to Klorgat IV.”
Martok nodded. ”That was, in fact, our hope.”
Chuckling, Bacco said, ”Yeah, we kinda figured that.” Growing serious again, she said, ”I meant what I said, Chancellor. We won't get involved in the Romulans' internal politics, but we're not just gonna stand around and let their people die.”
”I would not expect you to do anything other than what you have always done, Madam President,” Martok said.
Bacco rose from her chair. ”I'd say this summit is concluded, Chancellor.”
”Indeed, Madam President.” Martok also got up.
”I think we've done some good work here today, Chancellor. I hope this isn't the last time we do this.”
”I can promise nothing, Madam President. If I have learned nothing else in my five years as chancellor, it is that predicting the future is unwise.”
”Wasn't asking for a promise, Chancellor-was just asking for hope.”
”My only hope, Madam President, is to die in battle and cross the River of Blood to Sto-Vo-Kor. Whatever happens on that journey happens, and we can do little else but fight it to the end.”
”Well, I'm a little more concerned with getting the most I can out of this life.” She smiled. ”But I think we've done a pretty good job on both ends.”
She held out her hand. Recognizing the human gesture, Martok accepted the handshake.
As they shook hands, Bacco said, ”Qapla', Martok, son of Urthog.”
”Qapla', Nan Bacco.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven.
DR. REBECCA EMMANUELLI had been to many dangerous places in her seventy years of life: the brutally hot sands of Vulcan's Forge, the treacherous fire caves of Bajor, the uncertain mists of Berengaria, the toxic Mayak swamp on Ferenginar, and the hideously dense petrified forests of Selmak. Plus, of course, there were the four years she'd spent on Tzenketh, but she tried not to think about that.
None of those places made her as nervous as she was right now as she sat outside the president's office in the Palais de la Concorde.
An elderly Vulcan sat at a workstation, giving her the occasional disdainful look. She wondered if that disdain was a direct result of what she had been refusing to do for the past two weeks and would continue to steadfastly refuse to do, no matter what it was that President Bacco said to her when she went into her office.
She knew what was going on, of course; given the fact that the patient in question was in Starbase 1's infirmary, it would be impossible for her, as the head of that infirmary, not to know. The son of one of the Tzelnira-the people who'd ordered the attack on Starbase 55, during which Emmanuelli had been captured; the people who'd ordered her to be declared dead so she could remain on Tzenketh and treat their sick and wounded-was now in one of her biobeds, awaiting an operation that only she could perform and that she swore she would never perform again as long as she lived.
The door to the office slid open, and Rebecca saw the face of the president herself. Under any other circ.u.mstances this would be a thrill. It had been a big enough deal, talking with the chief of staff back in August during that mess with the Trinni/ek, but now...
”Dr. Emmanuelli, please come in.”
The Vulcan looked at the president. ”Is the intercom no longer working, ma'am?” he asked in an arch voice that made Rebecca realize that the disdain was more general and not directed necessarily at her. For some reason, that relieved her.
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