Available light, p.33
Available Light, page 33
Regardless of the agenda driving such publications, Louvois knew they would contribute nothing to the public discourse except uncertainty and distrust if left unchallenged. With that in mind, she saw it as her sacred duty to ensure that the truth—or at least as much as could be safely shared—was made available to that same public. If that meant she lost a lot of sleep while conducting interviews, then so be it. The truth deserved nothing less.
It did not, however, make her job any easier or less stressful, and it certainly did not make her any less tired.
Akaar said, “Zha President, all we can do is what we’ve been doing: conducting our investigation in as forthright a manner as we’re able. That comes with costs we all likely imagined, even if we didn’t anticipate just how high the price might be in some cases.” He paused, casting his gaze to the low, polished table between them. “I wonder if Admiral Ross knew.”
“He knew,” replied Louvois.
Clearing her throat, she looked away from zh’Tarash and Akaar and toward the windows behind the president’s desk. Even from where she sat, Louvois still could see the Tour Eiffel, reaching toward the cloudless blue sky. The ancient monument remained an inspiring sight, but it did little to soothe her as she recalled those last moments with Ross before Officer Margo Dempsey’s phaser beam cut down the admiral and Captain Rebecca Steeby. She mourned the woman, a dedicated officer given the difficult and thankless task of ensuring the man charged with a litany of heinous crimes against Starfleet and the Federation received the vigorous defense that was his right under due process of law. Louvois doubted Steeby, who swore the same oath as every other Starfleet officer, ever seriously expected to give her life in defense of that promise and the values it represented. As much as anyone, she deserved the unrelenting efforts of Louvois and everyone else to see that justice was done.
Returning her attention to the president and Akaar, she said, “Based on everything I’ve dug out of Ozla Graniv’s report and the information she released, Ross was one of the top figures—if not the top figure—within Section Thirty-One’s leadership structure. Despite it being decentralized to a staggering degree, far too many data points in various Thirty-One operations lead back to Ross. Maybe he didn’t even know he was the top dog, or as close to one as the Uraei program allowed while he was in Starfleet.”
“With him out of the picture,” said Akaar, “cooperation from people like Alynna Nechayev and Tujiro Nakamura becomes even more important. More than anyone else we’ve interviewed to this point, those two along with Ross looked to have been dug in pretty deep. This could get more serious as we start moving toward trials and courts-martial.”
While the civilians indicted by the Section 31 reveal would be tried in Federation courts, Starfleet officers were facing tribunals. Depending on the individual officer, the charges were such that determinations had to be made as to which type of legal proceedings the suspect would face. It was just one of numerous headaches currently plaguing Louvois.
“It’s because of what happened with Admiral Ross that the Federation Council is now considering holding its own independent investigations into the entire affair,” said zh’Tarash. “This isn’t public knowledge, of course, so I would appreciate you keeping this conversation between us. I have received reports from several council members expressing concern over what Ross’s assassination represents. They worry other prominent suspects we currently hold in custody might also become targets.”
“I suspect there are other motivations behind these concerns,” said Akaar. “Not to be indelicate or speak out of turn, Zha President, but not everyone on the council is your best friend. I’m betting at least a few of the people bringing these complaints see this whole affair as a means of advancing their own careers and agendas.”
Zh’Tarash rose from her chair, and in response Louvois and Akaar also stood. Waving them back to their seats, the president moved behind her desk until she stood at the window. Only a long wooden credenza separated her from the transparasteel barrier. Her attention seemingly on something neither of them could see, she said nothing for a moment. Then her shoulders seemed to sag, and she leaned forward until she could rest her palms on the credenza. Even her antennae seemed to droop as she leaned against the table.
“Investigations by my colleagues on the council do not concern me,” she said, without looking away from the credenza. “Neither does media scrutiny or public disapproval that we do not move fast enough for their liking. Finding the truth is all that matters.”
Straightening her posture, zh’Tarash turned from the window and crossed the office back toward them. “I believe staying the course we have set will allow us to weather this crisis, and perhaps even come away from it wiser and more protective of the values we cherish and have sworn to uphold. If there are those who see this as an opportunity to foment disruption or dissent, we will deal with them as appropriate, but not at the expense of the truth. Indeed, I believe when historians write about this tumultuous period, it is precisely how we conduct our search for that truth which will define our legacy.”
Simply listening to zh’Tarash speak, not from a prepared speech but here in this unguarded moment, was enough to make Louvois’s spirits soar higher and with more conviction than she had felt in far too long. It reminded her that she was perhaps too caught up in this business of searching for the truth and bringing to justice those responsible for this terrible crime against every Federation citizen. The necessity of the work had, for a time, blinded her to the reasons for it, not just in service to the law but also those for whom the rule of law provided the society promised to them and their ancestors more than two centuries earlier. Hearing zh’Tarash’s words reminded Louvois of the greater, far nobler purpose to which she had committed herself.
“The course we now chart impacts every Federation citizen,” the president continued. “Not just by what has been revealed but also by the actions we take going forward; yet we must also not lose sight of those who watch from afar and wait to see how we act. This is why I have brought you here today, my friends.”
Returning to her chair, zh’Tarash sighed. “What I am about to tell you I have not shared with anyone else, not even the Federation Council. I have no intention of keeping this from them, but before I enter that arena, I wanted your counsel on how best to proceed. I have received an encrypted message by just such an . . . interested party. Much to my surprise, we appear to have an ally in all of this, from the most unexpected of quarters.” Turning from Akaar and Louvois, she said, “Computer, replay encrypted message zeta-tango-two-zero-zero-one. Authorization: zh’Tarash, three-nine-five-five.”
On the wall opposite the president’s chair, a large viewscreen activated, displaying the Federation seal. After a moment, it was replaced by the imposing figure of a male Klingon. He wore a hybrid ensemble of military uniform and the robes of an elected official complete with a large assortment of awards and other vestments. His long mane of dark hair was streaked with gray, and his already intimidating countenance was enhanced by the patch of puckered, scarred flesh where his left eye used to be.
“Chancellor Martok,” said Akaar.
“President zh’Tarash,” said the leader of the Klingon High Council. “I offer greetings on behalf of the Klingon Empire. I trust this finds you well, but I suspect you are enduring a great deal of turmoil. Perhaps the trials the Federation now faces are outgrowths of its own hubris and naiveté, but one thing I know is that you are one who leads from integrity and honor. For that reason alone, I offer this: I stand with you.”
Louvois could not help saying, “I’ll be damned.”
“There are those within the Empire who do not see things as I do,” Martok continued, “just as I am sure you have your own dissenters. I believe they operate from positions of ignorance and perhaps even cowardice as they seek to reap personal benefit from this chaos. Whatever their motivations, they are detrimental to the greater good. For the Empire to move beyond the uncertainty this entire affair has wrought, so too must the Federation. Let us work together to accomplish that goal. I await the opportunity to meet with you, Zha President, and discuss how we best serve both our peoples.”
The message ended and Martok’s image faded, leaving Louvois and Akaar to stare in stunned silence at zh’Tarash. Akaar was the first to find his voice.
“He’s taking an enormous risk. It’s no secret he has enemies on the council. Someone there will use this as an opportunity to challenge his place as chancellor. This could have serious repercussions throughout the Empire.”
Louvois replied, “And yet there he is, pledging to work with us.”
“There will be members of the Federation Council who won’t like this,” said Akaar. Then, attempting a smile, he added, “I don’t think they’ll challenge you to a death match for your office, Zha President, but these days nothing would surprise me.”
Zh’Tarash returned the smile. “Let us hope things do not proceed to that point.” She gestured to the screen. “But, as you can see, our problems are much larger than even we thought. We are not merely acting in our own best interests, but also as an ally. Despite the troubles that have entangled the Federation and the Klingons, Martok was elevated to lead the High Council because he represents a bold new vision for the Empire.”
“Of course he’d pledge his support now,” said Louvois. “He’s always championed a stronger alliance between us, and that has placed him at odds with hard-line traditionalists on the High Council. Our biggest concern all along was how the Klingons would respond now that the truth about Zife and Tezwa is public, but Martok’s telling us he stands with us, and he’s fighting to get his people to go along with him. He needs our help as much as we need his.”
“Coming to the aid of an ally who was once our sworn enemy,” said zh’Tarash, and to Louvois’s surprise the president smiled, and her antennae even perked up. “What better way to demonstrate our values and how we have learned to put aside differences in pursuit of common prosperity can there be? Is that not the very essence of what those who founded our Federation envisioned all those years ago?”
“I admire your optimism, Zha President,” said Akaar. “Of course you know you can count on my full support.”
Her expression warming, zh’Tarash turned to Louvois. “And you, Madam Attorney General. What do you think?”
“It’s a bold goal,” replied Louvois. “For both our peoples. It’s certainly easier said than done, but anything worth doing usually is.”
How that was to be accomplished was anyone’s guess, Louvois knew, but any day that began or ended with the Klingon Empire declaring itself a friend rather than a foe had to be a good day, right?
So much for today, she thought. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
35
The coliseum was immense, reminding Picard of venues on Earth and other planets where large numbers of spectators assembled to watch sporting events or other entertainments. Tiered viewing stands encircled the bowl-shaped structure, descending toward a lush green field that was unadorned except for the large circular dais at its center. It was here that Picard stood, trying not to feel too much on display before an audience of more than sixty thousand Nejamri.
“Captain Picard,” said Alehuguet. “On behalf of my people, I thank you for agreeing to meet with us today so that we may offer you our sincere gratitude for all you have done to assist us. If all the people of the Federation you represent are like you and your crew, then we hope we are taking but the first steps along a long, enduring path of mutually beneficial and prosperous friendship.”
When she spoke it was in a normal tone, and she made use of no visible microphone or other device to augment the volume of her voice. Nevertheless, applause and cheers erupted from all around the coliseum. Turning in place to review the massive audience, Picard saw most if not all of the Nejamri rising to their feet. Though this was not his first time standing before a large gathering, rarely was the occasion when he was the focus of attention on this scale. Even with Geordi La Forge, T’Ryssa Chen, Dina Elfiki, and Beverly Crusher with him, he still felt more than a bit overwhelmed by the circumstances.
“Everybody loves a hero,” said Beverly, gently poking him in the rib cage.
“Aren’t you glad you came?” asked Picard, sharing a playful look. “And you were so worried.”
Only upon Alehuguet’s insistence did Picard accept the Nejamri leader’s invitation to partake in these proceedings, despite the unusual logistics involved. With sixty thousand people hoping to show their gratitude to Picard and the Enterprise crew, few ready options presented themselves. Though the Osijemal’s power issue was no longer a dangerous concern, and with repairs to the ark ship’s primary energy generation facilities now well under way, it simply was not practical to transfer the entire Nejamri population back to their physical bodies. Complicating matters was the simple if amusing fact that despite the Osijemal’s size, there existed no single area within its confines capable of accommodating the ship’s entire complement.
It had taken some convincing on the part of Chen and Elfiki, but eventually Picard relented, accepting Alehuguet’s invitation to transfer into the Haven. Doctor Crusher had voiced her expected objections and reservations, but her scans of both Chen and Elfiki revealed no detrimental effects resulting from their own experiences within the virtual realm. Now that the Nejamri had complete information on human physiology—and human-Vulcan variances, thanks to Chen—any uncertainty of the Haven being able to care for them had vanished. Other species represented by the Enterprise crew would take a bit longer, but for now the progress allowed Picard and a small contingent to join the Nejamri. With her concerns addressed, Crusher declared there was no way she was letting her husband have all the fun, and insisted on accompanying him.
“Thank you,” he said, remembering that he also did not need to raise his voice. As Alehuguet explained, the Haven took care of ensuring everyone in the coliseum heard his words as though he were standing directly in front of them. There was not even the echo of his voice being channeled through a public address or other communications system. The effect was to give the entire experience just enough of a surreal quality to remind him that he was not occupying physical space.
“It is a great honor to be with you today. We know that you have already made a long and dangerous journey, and that you still seek a new world to call your own. Members of my crew, working with your own representatives, have reviewed our star charts. We believe we have identified several worlds that show great promise. According to our information, all are uninhabited, and all possess environments similar if not identical to the world you left behind. Once your repairs are complete, you will be ready to resume your voyage, and it is my sincere hope that one of these planets will suit your needs.”
He paused, taking a short respite from his prepared remarks as the audience offered more cheers and applause.
“The man knows how to work a room,” said La Forge, earning him chuckles from Crusher as well as Chen and Elfiki. Picard’s only response was to offer the other man a sidelong glance.
Recovered from his injuries, the chief engineer had stepped away from overseeing the remaining repairs to the Enterprise in order to get his own look at Haven. More than any of the others, Picard wondered how the transition had affected La Forge, given his ocular implants and their substitution for his lack of “normal” vision. As it turned out, the answer was as interesting as the question.
“Who needs eyes when the computer generates everything for your mind to see?” he said upon their arrival. His excitement only grew as he explained to his companions that the Haven was giving him the equivalent of normal sight, at least so far as his brain was concerned. With no need for the data received by his implants to be interpreted and processed so that he could “see,” the Haven merely did what it was doing for everyone else: it tied his neurological activity directly to the computer’s matrix so that he saw and interacted with the environment the same as his companions.
Once the crowd settled again, and at Alehuguet’s prompting, Picard continued, “To reiterate Alehuguet’s words, I hope that this is the first of many meetings between our two peoples. The mission my crew and I have accepted is to venture forth from the confines of the Federation and seek out new civilizations with whom we hope to form lasting friendships. We cherish individual liberty and diversity, but we also see the value in common pursuits. The universe is vast, with room for all of us, and we believe it is the right of all beings to live without fear of enemies. However, the reality is that enemies do exist, but by coming together we are stronger than if we faced adversity alone. In time, after you find your new home, it is my hope that we might welcome you into our Federation, which represents hundreds of worlds and billions of people. We stand ready to greet you with open arms and add your voice to ours. Until that day, I wish you a safe and prosperous journey. Thank you.”
Renewed applause greeted his words, and Picard said nothing. So intense was the outpouring from the audience that it almost felt like a physical force pressing against him from all directions. It was humbling to be the focus of such attention, and despite his best efforts, he was unable to prevent the heartfelt emotion driving the crowd from affecting him. He could only hope that the future brought with it fulfillment of his fervent desire for the Nejamri to begin their civilization anew, and for them to realize the potential of what he had promised.
It took Picard a moment to realize the applause and cheers were fading, along with the coliseum itself. Everything around him was disappearing into blinding white light. Seconds later, he found himself standing with his officers and Alehuguet in what she had termed a transit station, one of the platforms employed to transfer Nejamri to and from the Haven. Though it bore a superficial resemblance to a transporter such as those on the Enterprise, the platform possessed a ceiling but was open on all sides, with a curtain of energy generated by power nodes above and below where a transferred subject stood. Picard and his people along with Alehuguet fit onto the platform with more than enough room to spare, and there was nothing indicating an individual pad on which to stand. This suggested the platform could handle many more subjects than the “normal” transporter systems with which he was familiar. The transfer completed, the cylinder of energy encasing the platform dissolved, and Picard could not help placing a hand on his stomach as though to verify that his entire body had made the transition.
