“Nice planet,” Cammy Spencer said. A five man Away Team, consisting of Commander Doran, Ensign Spencer, Lieutenant AJ Thompson, and two security guards all beamed down from the Eagle Star to the outer most planet of the New Horizon system to survey the planet for mining operations. She continued, “Like our initial survey of the system.” “Sure is,” Kevin replied, “Little more blue and green from the sixth planet, but we’re not looking for a vacation spot, Ensign.” “Don’t remind us, Commander. We’ve already been reminded by Admiral Bolter several times,” AJ said, scanning with a tricorder, “I’ve got a vein of cormaline ore, about eighty meters to the north east.” Kevin turned, scanned, and replied, “Worth taking a look. Let’s go.” The trio strode to the source of the ore readings, which they found to be in a cave. Cammy gave the exact readings, several meters under the ground. A quick decision was to go in after it and see what they were up against, say if a full mining team was needed for extraction. Once below, they certainly found the veins of ore, but at the same time… “Commander, I’m detecting heavy equipment and strong power signatures,” Cammy said off of her tricorder, “The signatures match the power signatures the Captain and Mr. Sandarklan detected on the Avkar fighters four months ago.” “What?” “That’s what I’m reading, Sir.” Kevin tapped his comm. badge, “Doran to Eagle Star.” “This is the Eagle Star, go ahead, Commander,” Bruce’s voice replied. “Captain, we’ve detected an Avkar settlement on the planet. Request permission to investigate.” AJ raised an eyebrow at Kevin, thinking: What the hell are you doing? You can’t possibly be thinking about going down there? They’ve got to have more numbers and better weapons than we do. Kevin caught it as Bruce said, over the comm. line, “Proceed, Commander, but don’t take any chances. Any problems, you call for help. Understand?” “Aye, Sir.” Everyone except Cammy holstered their tricorders and drew their phasers; Cammy continued to scan. They continued down the cave toward the readings, trying to be quiet, but the sound of gravel crunching under their boots was enough to wake the dead. A short while later, the team scuttled along a precipice overlooking an underground communications relay, several Avkar technicians working on it. “Damn,” Doran said, in a whisper. Cammy adjusted a couple of settings on her tricorder and added, “It’s a high power relay, Commander. I can’t trace its location.” Suddenly an alarm blared. Kevin glanced down and the Avkar technicians were running about, several drawing weapons. A moment after the alarm started, the shooting began. Kevin banged his comm. badge between shots, “Eagle Star, we’re under attack! We need reinforcements!” “Stand by, Commander. They’re on the way,” Bruce said to the comm. system, then to Lieutenant Talkart, “Xanthus, assemble a security detail and get down there. Alert Dr. Al-Rashid to prepare for injuries.” “Understood,” Talkart sprinted for the turbolift. “Captain, I’m detecting Diabolus’ dreadnought coming into the system from the asteroid belt,” Dana said, off her console. Bruce wanted to swear, instead said, “Red Alert. Shields up and fire weapons.” Commandant Erik Diabolus’ dreadnought sped toward the planet, like a man running from a shop owner after stealing from under his nose. If they were this rushed to get to the planet, Bruce thought, then they’re running. They might even have an assault team on the ready to jump them as they attacked Diabolus. Ah, what the hell… Talkart’s security team, armed with phaser rifles, beamed down outside the firefight, but jumped right into the mess. The Avkar, outnumbered, began to retreat; beaming out in two’s and three’s. “Are they retreating?” Kevin asked Talkart.
“Looks like it.” Another couple of exchanges of phaser fire passed, a few more Avkar transported up, and Talkart tapped his comm. badge, “Eagle Star, this is Talkart.” “We’re a little busy, Lieutenant. Can we get back to you?” Dana replied. “The Avkar are transporting somewhere. Can you get a lock?” “We’re shooting at it right now, Xanthus.” The last two troopers disappeared and Kevin broke in, “They’ve gone, Eagle Star. Request beam out.” “The dreadnought is escaping, stand by.” A few moments later, the entire away team was back aboard the Eagle Star, casualties in Sickbay, Kevin back on the bridge. After Diabolus escaped, Bruce ordered the Eagle Star back into orbit and a stand-down from Red Alert to Yellow Alert. Chasing the Avkar out of the system three times in the course of five months, seemed to Bruce, frankly too much. It was time to do something about these incursions into territory which Starfleet got to first, ahead of the Avkar. “You look pissed off,” Kevin said. “Glad to hear it, ‘cause that’s the way I feel. This spy station right under our noses just irks the hell out of me. Why didn’t we catch it before this? How come the other taskforce ships didn’t catch this? Why the heck isn’t Bolter diverting anymore ships here?” “I can’t answer that, Captain. But at the same time, we’re doing the best we can and that’s all we really can do.” “No, its not,” a pause and Bruce said, “Dana, contact Admiral Bolter. Tell him I need to meet with him the minute we arrive. Crewman Sandarklan, set course for Deep Space Fifteen. Maximum speed.” Admiral Karl Bolter had just sat down at his desk, his morning coffee in hand, wondering what Bruce wanted considering the serious nature his communication expressed, when his door signal chimed. He said, “Come in.” Bruce stepped into the room, looking slightly flustered, but keeping it in check while in the presence of a senior officer. Bolter said, “Bruce, what can I do for you.” “Admiral, have you read my reports about the recent incidents in New Horizon?” “I have.” “Then you’ll take me seriously when I say, we need to move Deep Space Fifteen there.” In the outer reaches of the final frontier, new enemies lurk in wait. In the great unknown, darkness rises. Yet, one crew will stand against the dark and explore the unknown, mounting up with wings as eagles to the stars.
Episode #104 “Diplomatic Protocol” Written By Michael A. Slagenweit
Admiral Bolter swallowed the dregs from his coffee cup and stared at Bruce. He asked, incredulously, “Are you nuts?” “Last time I had a psych evaluation, the docs said ‘no’. Then again after the Fearless, who knows?” “Bruce, setting up a security and research facility in New Horizon was one thing, moving a Deep Space Starbase there is another. DS-15 was constructed as a stationary base. We don’t have the manpower or the resources to move her from Idran to New Horizon.” “Sure, we do. That is, if we bring in some of the Federation’s allies to assist us.” Bolter sat back in his chair, pondering Bruce’s words. He’d known Space for a little over a decade, in one function or another: cruising the decks of starships, butting heads with other admirals at Starfleet Command, even surviving a fist fight with a couple of Nausicaans in a bar on Devrais III. He wasn’t a person to just make something up on a whim, he had a reason. “I believe you, Bruce, but this is not just something we can whip together in a day or two.” “I trust then, that you can pull a few of those strings you have at Starfleet. I’ll pull a few the strings I’ve got at Command, and we’ll go from there.” Dr. Na’ila Al-Rashid finished working with one of the security officers who were in the firefight on the planet and moved on to the next. She found herself caught with the cyclical routine of the work. Scan the patient, diagnose the problem, recommend and administer treatment. She moved to the last biobed, where the last of Lieutenant Talkart’s team waited holding his shoulder. Na’ila could see the phaser burn under his hand. “Are you all right, Ensign?” she asked, pleasantly. “Yeah, took a shot in the shoulder just before beam-out,” he replied, “Are you going to treat it?” “Yes,” she said. She hadn’t exactly noticed the tone in his voice as he asked the question as she was preparing her instrument tray. “I would like another doctor, please.” Now, Na’ila looked up from what she was doing, a questioning look on her face. She said, “Why, Ensign? I’m right here and I’m almost ready to treat your wound.” “I can’t be treated by you.” “Ensign, there isn’t another doctor available. It won’t take long and I’ll be using standard treatment. We don’t have time for—” “I will not be treated by you. I’ll come back at a time when I can be treated by someone else.” The ensign got off the biobed and walked out into the corridor so fast that Na’ila could have sworn he stormed out. In the back of her mind, she kept wondering what that was all about. True, she was unconventional in her means of administering medicine, something which garnered her some praise if not respect from her colleagues at Starfleet Medical, but that should not warrant this type of behavior. She resolved to have a discussion with Lieutenant Talkart.
Captain’s Log – Stardate 59527.5 It’s been three days since I met with Admiral Bolter about the Avkar in New Horizon. Convincing him to move DS-15 from Idran to the system was a tougher task than I’d anticipated. Now convincing the Federation’s allies to help us with the move and the establishment of a permanent settlement in the system may prove an even more challenging task. The kind of challenge I enjoy. Bruce, Kevin, and Dana, a pile of padds scattered about before them on the conference table in the observation lounge, had been assigned the task by Admiral Bolter to determine the conference programme. Bruce, familiar with diplomacy, knew which ambassadors would be easier to convince than others. Still he wanted his less diplomatically inclined officers knowing the ropes, once they took the captain’s chair for themselves. “How many leaders did Admiral Bolter actually manage to pull in on such short notice?” Dana asked. “Twelve, but we did get all of the Federation’s major allies, which we can be grateful for. The Dominion has also agreed to send a representative.”
“I’ve been reading about Ambassador T’Konos from the Klingon Empire. He sounds like a very capable diplomat,” Kevin said, off the padd, “It says here he was once a cruiser captain, but retired to the Klingon Diplomatic Corps after he contracted Talkarian’s disease, a condition which impaired his ability to command his ship. Chancellor Martok, General Korg, and Commander Worf all speak highly of him.” “The Chancellor has an eye for the right person, that’s for sure.” Dana said, reading, “Proconsul Yeshva is unable to make it so she is sending ViceProconsul M’Tan to speak for the Romulan Empire. He sounds like somebody we should be watching out for. According to this, he was one of the most decorated officers in the Tal-Shiar. If the Romulans are sending someone, do you think they’re going to include the Remans?” “Unlikely, but we could end up surprised.” “Man, I tell you,” Kevin said, “We couldn’t get more distinguished people coming here.” Bruce replied, “Well, considering the Tholian/Breen war going on back in the Alpha Quadrant, it took quite a bit of persuasion just to get some of these delegates to agree to the meeting, let alone asking them for assistance.” “You realize that they’re going to want everything up front about the operation, Bruce, including the truth about Diabolus,” Dana said, “You’re not going to be able to get away with not telling them.” “Sure I can, as long as I make it a truth they want to hear.” “What about the Dominion? Is the Dominion attending the conference?” Kevin asked. “Yes, though, I’m not sure who will be representing them.” The conversation rambled on a bit more, Kevin and Dana eventually leaving Bruce alone to begin writing his appeal to the delegation. He’d finished a couple of paragraphs, got a cup of tea from the replicator, and sat back down at his desk to begin writing again when Dana paged, “Captain, I’ve an incoming transmission, coded personal.” “I’ll take it down here, Dana.” Bruce rose from the head of the table, pushed a couple of chairs aside so he could lean against the conference table. The schematic diagram of the Eagle Star blanked out, then replaced by the seal of the Klingon Empire. A moment later, the new ambassador to the Klingon Empire appeared on the screen. He said, “Greetings, Captain Space.” “My congratulations on your elevation to full ambassador.” “Thank you, Captain. I do hope that we will be able take a little time to catch up with each other.” “As do I, T’Konos.” “I do want you to understand, yourself, if not Starfleet Command, that I will commit to your efforts in the Gamma Quadrant, even if the Empire does not.” “The High Council is wary of commitment, though I do believe they will back you. I will have an answer when I arrive in three days.” Commandant Erik Diabolus paced about his barracks aboard his dreadnought, the cigarette in the holder nearly converted to a cylinder of ash, his mind racing. Bruce Space nosing about the system, again. Aggravating. He had to find the artifact; those whom he served would not tolerate failure. Only in this way would the League of the New Order accomplish their designs. Still, the Federation’s efforts would not succeed. The Avkar would overtake the Dominion and the Federation. In that way, the League of the New Order would establish dominance in the galaxy and he would be emperor of all. Beautiful… His door signal chimed. Diabolus whirled about, his cloak coming about in a snap. He grated, “What? Enter!” Sergeant Rizak, his Avkar right-hand, entered. Rizak, a tall individual, with distinctively brighter scales than his contemporaries, held a padd in his hand and said, “Commandant, the Federation is assembling for a meeting, concerning us.” Diabolus lit another cigarette. He’d amassed a collection of them which sustained him through centuries when smoking went the way of the dinosaur. They hadn’t killed him yet, so why quit? When material replication finally came along, a simple patter transfer and he could sustain his need forever. He took the padd, read, and replied, “I know, Captain Space is messing in
areas he should not be. Losing the surveillance station on the outer planet was a loss, to be sure. However, we are not yet finished. The League of the New Order has just begun.” “Yet, the Federation maintains the upper hand.” “Not for long!” Diabolus snapped, “I will not allow the Federation to continue to nosing about our system and taking what is rightfully ours. We will also call in our allies and make a stand against the Federation.” The Jem’Hadar attack ship bearing only three people approached a designated set of coordinates just outside of Dominion Space. A day earlier, message was intercepted stating that a new league was forming, one which would possess the power restore the Dominion to prominence among the powers of not only the Gamma Quadrant, but also to those in the Alpha Quadrant. The message stated that the Dominion should send a representative accompanied by only two Jem’Hadar soldiers. Vinshar, Consul for the Founders of the Dominion, paced back and forth about the bridge of the attack ship. He did not relish meeting with this unknown entity, nor meeting with the Federation two days later. The prospect of restoring the Dominion to prominence; now that was idea which held appeal. His disgust with Odo’s reforms was well known among the Great Link. So much so, that he felt compelled to take matters into his own hands, though he could not as yet find a way to accomplish his ends without harming the Great Link. Still, a way existed, and he would find it. “Founder, there is a dreadnought entering sensor range. It’s one of Dominion design, but the armaments are not of the Dominion.” “Combat readiness, First. I—” Vinshar couldn’t complete his order as he was whisked away in a transporter beam. Vinshar found himself in a holding cell, trying to complete his order, but on first glance of where he was, trailed off, “— don’t want to…” His mind working immediately, he began to probe the walls, searching for a way of escape or a means to use his shape-shifting abilities to gain communications with his ship. He quickly finished two walls when a door slipped open and two Avkar soldiers entered the room. “Stay where you are, Changeling,” one said, his voice a low growl. “What is the meaning of this?” Vinshar asked. “You will find out soon enough when Commandant Diabolus summons us.” Vinshar was not about to wait for their Commandant to do anything. He tried to morph into a liquid state and get past these Avkar fools. When he found himself unable to change form, he shot a questioning look at the guards. “We have an inhibitor field active, Changeling. It is preventing you from changing form.” A buzz sounded; the signal the guards waited for. They pointed their weapons at Vinshar, steering him down the corridor of the dreadnought. At the end, a large door slid open revealing an opulently decorated conference room. A man, a human, stood at the head of the conference table, dressed in an Avkar uniform with a black cape spread across his shoulders and a silver mask covering part of his face. “Good evening, Consul Vinshar, do come in” said Erik Diabolus, “The League of the New Order extends its welcome to you.” “The League of the New Order? Who’s order?” “The Order of the Avkar Solidarity. The people of the Avkar who were once slaves of the Dominion and are now freed of its strangle hold; the people once dishonored, like yourself, who will now stand in an honored place in history.” He indicated the other men stiffing around the table with his cigarette, “May I also introduce Minister Fakal of the Cosal, Shashlar-Zamir representing the Xaltav, and Counselor Erisar who speaks for the Telkeit. All these men have sought an alliance with the Avkar to drive down the ashes of the past and gain new glory.” “The Avkar,” Vinshar interrupted, smiling, “The Avkar are nothing against the Dominion. And you, a human, working with them? Who are you?” “I am Erik Diabolus, commandant of the Avkar battleship Executor and chief military officer of the League of the New Order. The New Order which will liberate the oppressed peoples of the Dominion as well as the Federation. These men, before you, dishonored by their
respective corrupted governments have generously consented, each bringing varied and unique talents, to be my allies and carry out the liberation of the oppressed.” Vinshar continued to smile, “You’re a fool, Diabolus, or whatever your name is. You cannot destroy the Dominion. We will always be stronger than your pitiful Avkar.” “Ah, but that is why I have asked you to come here, Consul Vinshar. I like beings of strength, which you are. Why destroy the Dominion in needless battles when simple subterfuge is needed to bring it to its knees.” “I will not assist you in your plans.” “You have no choice, Consul. You will work with us or be compelled to work for us,” a long pause, “I believe that these will interest you, Consul. Come, sit, and observe.” Diabolus indicated an empty seat at the table. Vinshar came close, though he did not sit. Diabolus took his place at the head of the table, placed his cigarette in an ashtray, and then said to Sergeant Rizak sitting at his right hand, “Bring the artifacts in.” Rizak rose and opened a cabinet concealed within a statue of a former Avkar military hero. From it, he set a tray with an object on it, covered by a silken sheet before Diabolus. Vinshar, looking at Diabolus as if he were mad, said, “What foolishness is this?” Diabolus pulled the sheet off the object, which happened to be two objects, revealing two captured Spires. “Simple archeological artifacts?” Vinshar asked incredulously. “More than simple archeological artifacts!” Diabolus hissed, “These artifacts are enhancers. They can amplify specific types of power and energy. Individually, they are not very effective, but with others of their kind, they have the potential make the man who commands them invincible.” “What do you want from me?” “Simple, Consul Vinshar. You are attending a conference held by the Federation, a conference called by my enemy, Bruce J. Space. You are not to help him, keep him away from Section AC-21.
Captain’s Log – Stardate 59528.4 The Klingon delegation arrived at DS-15 this morning and the Romulan delegation is scheduled to arrive this afternoon. Ambassador T’Konos seems to have an open mind, which puts me a little more at ease. Unfortunately, when it comes to the Romulans and the Dominion… I’m not at all at ease. Bruce, Kevin, Admiral Bolter and DS-15 security detail arrived in the Docking Ring; Bruce running his fingers under the collar of his dress uniform trying to loosen it. “I keep telling you, we need to get that uniform to a tailor and get it altered to fit you better,” Dana said before he left the Eagle Star. She’d had her dress uniform tailored three times since it’d been fabricated for her. Therefore, she maintained good cause to get on her husband to have his uniform tailored as well. “We haven’t got time to do it now,” he’d replied. Upon arrival, Ops paged, “Admiral, the Vice Proconsul’s shuttle has docked.” The airlock doors slid open and a moment later, a Romulan of medium height stepped out into the corridor, flanked by a Reman. Bruce felt his skin crawl at the sight of him. He remembered a nightmare he’d had of the Remans after the loss of the Fearless. Bolter said, “Vice Proconsul M’Tan, welcome aboard Deep Space Fifteen.” “Thank you Admiral Bolter,” M’Tan replied, then turning to Bruce, “This must be Captain Space of the Starship Eagle Star. I’ve heard much about you. This is Deputy Zakat, representing Reman interests in this conference.” He indicated his companion and Bruce nodded to him. Purely as a measure of diplomatic courtesy, he thought then added, chiding himself, be civil, Bruce. Bolter said, “Lieutenant Harrison will escort you to your quarters.” The Romulan/Reman delegation followed the security detail down the corridor, while Bruce turned to Kevin and said, “Well this just makes things a hell of a lot more interesting, doesn’t it?”
“There’s an old Vulcan proverb, Bruce,” Kevin replied. “’Patience is the virtue of logic’?” “No. ‘Only Nixon could go to China.’” Bruce raised an eyebrow at his executive officer. He understood the background of the proverb. He even knew the reason as to how the Vulcans knew about Richard Nixon’s trip to China in 1972. He was just a kid then, but later in life understood that only a conservative president with an established hostile attitude toward economic communism could develop diplomatic relations with a communist country. Similar histories had been written about Captain James T. Kirk and the first Khitomer accords. Now Bruce was the Nixon in this equation and the visiting Remans were the Chinese. Only Bruce J. Space could go to the Remans and ask them for help. Bruce was still mulling over the Remans when Tricacious’ comm. voice broke his reverie, “Ops to Admiral Bolter.” “Go ahead, Tricacious,” Bolter said. “We’ve received another signal, Admiral; the Dominion representative has arrived and is requesting to be beamed aboard, immediately.” “Reply that we’re locked in and ready for transport in Transporter Bay Six.” “Aye, Sir.” The trio walked up the corridor to the transporter bay. As they entered, Bolter said, “Energize, Chief.” The transporter chief worked his console. A pale man materialized, with a rather unformed face and dark hair. He spoke with a rasp, “Admiral Bolter?” “I’m Admiral Bolter, commander of Deep Space Fifteen.” Bruce recognized the man for what he was, a changeling. The man continued, “I am Consul Vinshar, I speak for Odo and the Founders on behalf of the Dominion.” “It is good to have you here, Consul,” Bolter replied. “I will be in attendance tomorrow morning at the conference. I am not to be disturbed until then." “I see to it.” He tapped his combadge, paged Tricacious and had a security officer sent back to the transporter room to escort Consul Vinshar to some quarters. When Vinshar left, he and Bolter started back for the Eagle Star. Bruce said, in a fake British accent he used when wanting to break a dark mood, “Lovely fellow.” “You got that right. Just the facts, sir; sit down, say your piece, and shut up. No time for small talk.” “I asked for diplomats, Karl. What do I get? People who can’t stand each other.” “They might yet surprise you, Bruce. Be patient.” “Are you going to be at the reception this evening?” “I will. I trust you’ll be there?” “Wouldn’t miss it. It’ll give me a chance to take a good look at this collection of diplomats, the Dominion ambassador not withstanding.” Though not making it an order, Bruce did make it evidently clear he wanted his senior officers at the reception for the visiting diplomatic delegations. The Eagle Star officers, all in dress uniforms arrived in Deep Space Fifteen’s reception hall, just as the station’s galley crew was uncorking the replicated champagne. Though no fan of replicated food, Bruce appreciated the serving of synthehol champagne; he’d been in enough situations in which alcohol had been a major player. Once with drinks in hand, the Eagle Star crew began to mingle about. Dr. Al-Rashid looked around the crowd in the reception hall, trying to find Lieutenant Xanthus Talkart. She’d been trying to get a hold of him for four days now, but kept getting someone telling her that he was indisposed with security matters for the diplomatic conference being put together by Captain Space. This reception, she reasoned, would be the best opportunity to catch him and talk for a couple of minutes. She’d pondered over the incident in Sickbay four days ago a hundred times, failing to find a rational answer. She didn’t know the ensign and attempts at getting his name went almost nowhere as much of the crew were still unfamiliar with each other. She did learn, he’d come back
to Sickbay after her duty shift was over, to be treated by Dr. Crowson, the assistant Chief Medical Officer. When she spotted him, she excused herself from the conversation she’d got into with Lieutenant Commander Tricacious and the Son’a representative on Borg medical technology. She said, “Lieutenant Talkart, may I talk to you for a moment?” “Of course, Doctor.” Talkart replied, “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Things just have been busy.” “I understand. It’s about the ensign who got shot in the shoulder during that phaser fight back at New Horizon.” “Yes, I know the one you’re talking about.” “You do?” “Yes. That’s Ensign Alec Mordechow; he’s fresh from the Academy.” “Why wouldn’t he allow himself to be treated by me?” “Ensign Mordechow is Jewish, Doctor. He came to see me afterward, when I asked him if he’d come to Sickbay to see you, he said that he had but on learning who you were, he refused treatment until he could be treated by Dr. Crowson.” “So,” Na’ila said, taking a pause, “He refuses to be treated by a practitioner of Islam.” “That’s basically it.” “You would think, Lieutenant, we could have let disparity based on religious practice stay where it belongs; in the past.” “You would think that, but somehow Ensign Mordechow doesn’t want to let it go.” “So what happens, Lieutenant when we get into a situation when he won’t live without medical care and I am the only doctor available? That has been known to happen aboard Federation starships. If he has refused my treatment, I am under ethical obligation to honor that request, even if it goes against my training as a healer.” “Give it some time, Doctor. He may come around and let go of old wounds.” “Then again, he may not.” Xanthus gave a long pause and then said, “I’ll make a strong recommendation to him that he try to resolve his personal conflicts with the ship’s counselor, otherwise to pull his head out of his ass and recognize when someone is trying to help him.” Na’ila smiled. She knew she’d liked Talkart from the first time he came into Sickbay, “I appreciate that, Lieutenant.” “Is this a private conversation or were you just avoiding the party?” Lieutenant AJ Thompson asked, striding up to Xanthus and Na’ila. Bruce spotted Cammy pulling away from Vice Proconsul M’Tan and Deputy Zakat. He said, “Having a good time, Ensign?” “Sure am,” Cammy replied, “The Vice Proconsul is rather charming.” “Don’t forget, the Romulans are as delightful as they are treacherous; especially once the Romulan Ale starts flowing.” “I haven’t,” Cammy glanced about the room, finding Ambassador T’Konos standing along the wall alone, she said, “Captain, I don’t mean to dampen the mood, but Ambassador T’Konos looks bored.” Bruce caught it, “That’s because the ambassador prefers to socialize in his native language, saving his English for the actual diplomacy. Cammy, do you speak Klingon?” “Andorian.” “I thought you spoke Klingon?” “Nope, Andorian.” “Damn it. Where’s Dana when I need her? I got a ‘C’ in basic Klingon at the Academy,” His wife was conversing with Admiral Bolter and the Vulcan representative. Wondering if anyone else might be a likely linguist, he saw AJ Thompson, Dr. Al-Rashid, and Lieutenant Talkart standing together in a clutch. He walked over to them asking if any of them spoke Klingon, not expecting any of them to. Fortunately, he got lucky. “I took a Klingon as my language at the Academy,” Dr. Al-Rashid replied. She strode over to the Ambassador, greeting him in the guttural language. Soon enough they were
conversing freely, leaving Bruce thinking, another happy customer. Tomorrow, on the other hand, would prove much harder. Bruce woke in the morning to find a full breakfast waiting for him. He’d definitely gotten a good night’s sleep, partially due to the drinks he had at the reception the night before and then a comfort massage from his wife afterward; something that seemed another reason to confirm his wife might possess the ability to read his mind. The Eagle Star senior officers had seats to watch the proceedings from the viewing gallery in the main conference center aboard DS-15. Though not a Starfleet officer, Bruce pulled one of his strings with Admiral Bolter to allow Sandarklan to watch with the rest of the senior officers. The delegates were given main floor seating, so as to allow them direct access to the speaker on the dais, where Bruce and Admiral Bolter stood, Bolter at the podium. “Delegates,” Bolter said after his welcome and greeting, “I will now turn this meeting over to Captain Bruce J. Space, commander of the Starship U.S.S. Eagle Star.” The twelve delegates rose and applauded, quietly, as Bruce took the podium. He set the padd on the podium and began, “Thank you, Admiral Bolter. Delegates, you come from many worlds. Many of which were once enemies of the Federation. I made a realization not too long ago, that I would have to reconcile with my enemies to forge a new frontier of exploration here in the Gamma Quadrant.” M’Tan interrupted, “Come to the point, Captain Space, what is it that you want from this body?” Bruce set his eyes directly on the Romulan’s face and replied, “Cooperation, Vice Proconsul. The Federation does not have enough resources out here to maintain the security of our outpost here, considering the war with the Tholians back in the Alpha Quadrant.” “Captain,” Vinshar broke in, “Many of the delegations here have already provided assistance to the Federation’s efforts to the war. Now, you ask for more?” “Starfleet Command feels that this outpost is worth the effort of defending. The Gamma Quadrant has much unexplored territory of which we may well benefit from though exploration.” “At the same time, Captain, the Federation Starfleet has not been the most forthcoming with its allies in the past few months. Why merely protect a distant outpost? Why not suspend its operations and return to it when the current conflict has passed?” “Consul Vinshar, would the Dominion do such a thing? Especially in light of their current conflict with the Avkar?” Ambassador T’Konos cut in, “I believe we are owed a point of clarification, Captain Space. Who are the Avkar? What sort of threat do they represent?” Bruce shot a quick glance at Vinshar, as if expecting the Dominion ambassador to interrupt with a protestation of the question or to say that any explanation of the Avkar was irrelevant to the matters at hand. The Changeling gave no such response. Bruce said, his voice controlled, “The Avkar are a technologically advanced race, which once were part of the Dominion. Ever since being conquered, they have been a thorn in the Dominion’s side, as they have maintained a resistance to their occupation. Since the Federation defeat of the Dominion, and the beginnings of reform, the Avkar have finally managed to drive the Dominion from their world, with the help of a human.” “A human?” “Commandant Erik Diabolus. He is a master manipulator as well as a cunning strategist. He wants the secrets of the New Horizon system.” Vinshar asked, “What sort of secrets, Captain? That section of space used to be under Dominion control.” “Secrets we have not yet uncovered, Consul. We have an artifact in our possession which Diabolus and his Avkar allies have been after for an undetermined reason. I suspect it has some properties which might make it a potential weapon, but this is pure speculation.” The questioning continued throughout the morning. Bruce answered the questions as best possible. He made it very clear, or at least he thought he did, that the Avkar posed a threat to all parties at the conference, whether they resided in the Alpha Quadrant or the Gamma Quadrant.
After the conference ended for the day, Bruce summoned Sandarklan to his ready room aboard the Eagle Star. Bruce asked, “What is your impression of Consul Vinshar, Crewman?” “I created no impression, Captain. Consul Vinshar is a Founder; the Founders are gods.” “Surely, Mr. Sandarklan, you must have an idea. What kind of…” Bruce struggled for a word, “Vibration does he give off? “ “I detected no vibration as you put it.” Bruce, exasperated, put his hands into the air before him, and then said, “Surely based on body language, posture, tone of voice, you must have developed an opinion of the man before you.” Sandarklan took a long time to respond, “The Founder seemed preoccupied, Sir.” “As if he already made an agreement with the Avkar and was playing us for a fool?” “I cannot say, Captain, as it is not my place to judge a god.” “You’re not judging him, Sandarklan, you’re speculating as to his actions.” “Then I would speculate that you are correct, Captain. The Founder may have made an agreement with the Avkar prior to coming here.” “Damn it! I knew someone would stab us in the back, but I expected M’Tan or Zakat would be the ones to do it, rather than Vinshar.” “The Founders do not make agreements, Captain. It is against their nature to make an agreement with the solids. However, they will make tactical alliances to gain what they want.” Bruce shifted his gaze to the window, looking out into the stars, taking in Sandarklan’s words. He felt a familiar tingle in the back of his mind, “Diabolus is doing the same to the Dominion that they are doing to him; a manipulation game.” “The question is, who will prevail?” “If I have anything to say about it, we will.” When Bruce arrived in the conference room in the morning, he expected to find all the delegates awaiting him with a great big “no”, T’Konos not withstanding. Their reasoning: this was a personal vendetta by a Starfleet Captain against an enemy from the past, which had no bearing on present political events. He would have to deal with Commandant Diabolus himself, seeing as how the Avkar had not posed a significant threat, more an annoyance to Federation interests. It was M’Tan who spoke when Bruce arrived, “Captain, though we cannot presume to understand your conflict with Commandant Diabolus, we do recognize the necessity of establishing a more secure position in Section AC-21.” Vinshar broke in, “The Dominion considers the Avkar to be a threat to the stability to this part of the quadrant. Even though the Dominion is capable of handling their constant insurrection, the Founders welcome any assistance of which the Federation and its allies might provide to us. In return, we will provide safety and defensive systems for the establishment of a permanent facility.” Bruce, a bit dumbstruck as he listened to the two ambassadors who he thought would prove the voices of descent amongst consensus, now stood shocked. He tried to think about how to respond, but words tripped in his mind before they made it to his voice. What eventually came out was, “I thank you for your support of our efforts.” M’Tan replied, “We remind you though, Captain, this personal grudge between Commandant Diabolus and yourself, may not interfere with this mission or it will jeopardize this alliance.” “I understand. How shall we proceed?” T’Konos spoke, “These are discussions which will commence immediately, Captain. Yet, as our allies have said, the necessity of establishing a secure position in this part of the quadrant is vital to us all.” “Then let’s get started.”
To be Continued…
Star Trek: Eagle Star Episode #104 “Diplomatic Protocol” Written By Michael A. Slagenweit Based on “Star Trek” Created By Gene Roddenberry Star Trek®, Star Trek: The Next Generation®, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine®, Star Trek: Voyager®, Star Trek: Enterprise®, and all associated marks are registered trademarks of Paramount Pictures Incorporated. All rights reserved. No infringement is intended. No profit whatsoever is coming from the use of "Star Trek" by this fan fiction. No part of this fan fiction may be reproduced or otherwise copied without express written permission of the author.