Even before the towering, heavy doors to the chamber opened to allow her entry, the sounds of heated debate carried to Toqel’s ears. No less than five senators, she judged, were talking at rapid pace over and around each other. None of them seemed content to pause for the shortest interval in order to comprehend or even acknowledge what their peers were saying. This sort of discourse had dominated the past several sessions, and not for the first time, Toqel frowned in private disapproval. Accounts of such decorum, should they travel beyond the confines of the Senate and to the citizenry of Dartha, would almost certainly instill at least some uncertainty within the very fabric of Romulus’s capital city. How could those in power expect to hold sway over the populace if they could not even comport themselves with some small shred of discipline?
Is this how it was prior to our last war with Earth and its allies?
The question taunted Toqel as the massive doors opened and she, along with her assistant, Vice Proconsul Ditrius, stepped into the grand hall that was the Senate chamber. Once inside, she could not resist a moment’s distraction as she took in the room’s dignified splendor. Marble columns rose from the granite tile of the debate floor to support the translucent domed ceiling, through which the filtered light of the morning sun illuminated the gold and silver embellishments of elegant tapestries hanging around the room’s perimeter. For generations, this chamber had been a focal point for some of the Empire’s greatest minds and most fervent defenders. Many of the historic decisions and policies that had guided the Empire through prosperity as well as adversity had been born here. It was, Toqel believed, an almost divine place, worthy of solemn, unwavering respect.
Unfortunately, that grandeur was, in her opinion, spoiled by the unshielded, raucous dialogue that seemed poised to consume the storied hall. Seated at their ornate, ceremonial desks situated atop the raised dais that dominated the room’s northern wall, most of the senators, along with Praetor Vrax himself, listened as Levok, one of the Senate’s longest-serving and most accomplished members, stood before them on the debate floor. Stepping farther into the room, Toqel realized she and Ditrius were just in time to watch the veteran senator in the middle of yet another of his famed dramatic tirades.
“How much longer will we stand idle as our enemies intrude open our territory all but unchallenged? How many more incursions will we allow before one of their vessels finally reaches a vital target?” With what Toqel recognized as a practiced bit of zealous flair, Levok pointed toward the chamber’s debate floor. Inlaid into the tiles was an elaborate star map representing the area of space claimed by the Romulan Star Empire, along with the border separating it from the United Federation of Planets. “How long after that until our enemy finally gathers the courage to cross the Neutral Zone and launch an all-out offensive? My friends, hear me well: The longer we wait to put the humans in their place, the weaker we will appear.”
Seated at her desk on the dais, Senator Anitra said, “We know that the Federation has made their own significant technological advances since the war. That much has already been made quite obvious, just based on our most recent encounters with Starfleet vessels. It’s quite possible that they are already more formidable an adversary than we are prepared to face.”
Hushed murmurs filtered through the room, and Toqel watched as a few of the senators bowed their heads toward one another, exchanging remarks that were inaudible to her. Though younger than most of her colleagues, Anitra had in a relatively short period of time positioned herself as one of the Senate’s most vocal, formidable members. She had garnered a reputation for holding no fears or reservations so far as conflicts with neighboring interstellar powers were concerned, though she almost always championed a deliberate, pragmatic approach to such matters. Indeed, working with Levok on several initiatives since her election to the Senate had allowed the two of them to forge an impressive tandem, with her providing reasoned counterbalance to Levok’s more reactionary views and statements.
And, as it often had in the past, Toqel knew, the tactic once again was proving successful. Despite the seeming paranoia lacing the esteemed senators’ words, the views held by Levok and Anitra were shared by several of their colleagues. Even the Praetor himself placed credence in at least some of what currently was being espoused, though he often presented a tempered response to the more inflammatory opinions.
“There is another facet to this situation that must not be overlooked,” Levok said, his attention still focused on the Praetor and the other senators. “For some time, we have watched as the Federation and the Klingon Empire continue their efforts at extending their respective grips on the galaxy. Left unchecked, this growth may well result in our being surrounded by our enemies and at their mercy. While the Federation would entertain negotiations, I certainly do not believe the same to be true of the Klingons.”
Sitting to the Praetor’s left, Senator D’tran cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he straightened his stooped posture. “While I might agree with your assessment of the Klingons, Levok, much of the public outcry about Federation expansion would seem to be misplaced. Let us be honest here. In all our dealings with the humans, have they ever shown a propensity for initiating hostile action?” D’tran’s voice was subdued and gruff, owing to his extreme age. By far the oldest member of the Senate, he had always been a voice of wisdom and restraint even during the most tumultuous of debates. Toqel knew that his views on the Federation came with the credibility of direct, firsthand knowledge; as a younger man, while serving as an officer aboard a warship, D’tran had been one of the first Romulans ever to encounter people from Earth. As time passed, and given the overall lack of substantial information, D’tran and a few other individuals effectively had become the only real experts on humans, their worlds, and their culture. It was a distinction the elder senator had solidified thanks to his recent diplomatic work not only with the Federation but also the Klingon Empire.
Bowing his head in deference to the veteran senator, Levok replied, “You are correct, D’tran. However, is it not reasonable to assume that in response to our own reconnaissance missions into their space, the Federation has decided that more direct action is in order? It’s likely that they remain as uninformed about us as we were about them. This might explain the rise of invasive incursions into our territory, yes?”
“Of course it might,” said Ditrius from where he stood to Toqel’s immediate left, his voice nearly inaudible.
“Silence,” Toqel said, chastising her assistant in a hushed whisper as her eyes scanned the senators to see if anyone else had overheard the ill-considered remark. It had not been the first time she was forced to remind Ditrius of his place, particularly when in the presence of the Senate, to say nothing of the Praetor himself. The vice proconsul was an ambitious officer, hungry for advancement and at times careless in word or deed. Toqel had found that mentoring her young protégé was but one more full-time facet of the already demanding set of official duties entrusted to her. Without that guidance, she was sure Ditrius would one day say or do something that would set him at odds with a superior, and that would be the end of his brief, albeit impressive career.
Tread softly, my determined young friend.
Despite her disapproval of Ditrius’s momentary loss of military bearing, Toqel released a small sigh, hard-pressed to disagree with his rash assessment. An effective and persuasive speaker, Senator Levok nevertheless was prone to stating the glaringly obvious, even if he tended to do so in grandiose fashion.
Though she was certain she had caught herself from reacting any further to Levok’s remarks and instead succeeded in maintaining her bearing, Toqel straightened her rigid posture when she realized that Praetor Vrax was looking past the senator and directly at her. Seated in his chair at the center of the raised dais, the elderly leader seemed to smile—if ever so slightly—as their eyes met, and he raised his hand, indicating her with a wave.
“Proconsul Toqel,” he said, his voice low and feeble. “Please, you
and Ditrius, join us.”
Toqel felt her stomach tighten as she withstood Vrax’s measured gaze, which seemed at odds with the calm, genial manner in which he addressed her. A casual observer might wonder if her reaction, fleeting though it might have been, had angered the Praetor, but Toqel knew better. Indeed, she was no stranger to his personality, having seen it firsthand all her life thanks to her late father’s association with him, which dated back to Vrax’s often tumultuous career as a senator. Despite his public persona and the cloak of mystery and even fear that came with the Empire’s highest office, Vrax had always fostered an air of spirited, diverse debate within the confines of the Senate chamber, even from appointed military representatives such as Toqel herself.
“My Praetor,” she said as she and Ditrius stepped to the edge of the dais, offering a formal bow as she observed the stringent, traditional protocols. “How may I be of service?”
His left hand toying with the polished wooden cane that had all but become an extension of his body as he inexorably succumbed to advancing age, Vrax regarded her with that subtle, amused expression Toqel had come to know all too well. “What is your assessment of this issue, which has consumed so much of the Senate’s time in recent days?”
Toqel clasped her hands behind her back before replying, “As I’m sure Senator D’tran will attest, the Federation has never shown a propensity for attempts at peaceful negotiation while simultaneously employing tactics of deception and betrayal. It’s possible, even likely, that espionage is being conducted, but at this time I suspect it’s of a limited nature. Whether any such clandestine activities continue or escalate will almost certainly be dictated by the outcome of various diplomatic initiatives currently under way.”
The most prominent of such overtures had only recently been set into motion, thanks to the efforts of Senator D’tran. Through means Toqel still did not quite understand, D’tran had been in contact with a Federation ambassador, who had convinced the aged senator that some form of aggressive diplomatic communication was required if the interstellar neighbors were ever to secure lasting peace. Responding in his normal, unconventional manner, D’tran had left Romulus on a personal mission, eventually meeting with the Federation envoy with whom he had been corresponding as well as an ambassadorial representative from the Klingon Empire. Together, the three politicians had forged the beginnings of an agreement to establish a joint colony on the third planet of the Nimbus system, located within the Neutral Zone separating Federation and Romulan space. As presented to the Praetor and the rest of the Senate by D’tran, the settlement was intended to demonstrate that the disparate governments could work together and reap benefits from such willing collaboration. Even now, a Romulan diplomatic cadre, as well as a group of scientists and colonists, was preparing for transport to the arid world that had been chosen for the historic, if atypical, endeavor.
Toqel had her doubts that the venture would succeed; however, she had chosen to keep such opinions to herself.
Leaning forward in his chair, Vrax said, “With all of this in mind, I’m confident that you’ve given the matter sufficient thought to formulate an approach that will serve us in the event these various high-minded undertakings should prove less than successful?”
“Indeed I have, my Praetor,” Toqel replied, stifling an urge to smile. She already had discussed this matter in his private chambers, soon after her promotion to Senate proconsul in the wake of her successor’s retirement from military service. It was during this privileged conversation that Vrax had given her authorization to conduct further analysis to determine the feasibility of the plan she would now explain. While she had yet to make significant progress, the Praetor had decided that the time was right to present her ideas to the Senate for consideration. “Though we have agreed to meet with the Federation and the Klingons in an attempt to broach a peaceful accord, prudence demands that we continue to ready ourselves in the event such efforts fail.”
As she spoke, Toqel moved from where she stood before the dais, pacing from side to side and crossing before the assemblage of senators, making eye contact with each member of her audience. “Extended analysis of both Starfleet and Klingon starships indicates that from a tactical standpoint, we are at best evenly matched. Our cloaking technology gives us some advantage, but as we have seen from recent and costly examples, it is not a full-proof measure. Despite our advances, the technology must be further improved.”
“It’s my understanding,” Levok said from where he had resumed his seat on the dais, “that a new generation of the cloaking technology is currently in development.”
Toqel nodded. “Quite correct, Senator. However, our studies have shown that in order for the cloak to achieve true stealth, the new prototype requires more power than can be generated by the majority of our vessels. New classes of ships are also being designed and a few are even under construction, but a test craft will not be ready for some time.”
The last words caught in her throat, but Toqel was able to maintain her composure even as she thought once more of her daughter, Sarith, who had commanded one of the very vessels that had proven inadequate to the task of providing for its cloaking device’s demanding power requirements. Her ship, the Bloodied Talon, had been dispatched to a distant region of space known as the Taurus Reach, in which the Federation had taken an unusual interest. Sarith and her crew had been ordered to determine what had attracted such attention, not only by Starfleet but also the Klingons and the Tholian Assembly. In the midst of its investigation, the Talon had suffered massive damage after being caught in the shock wave of a planet destroyed by a heretofore unknown weapon, the nature of which remained the subject of much consternation within and beyond the boundaries of the Romulan Empire. Adrift in space and with no reasonable hope of rescue, Sarith had eventually been forced to destroy her own ship once it became obvious that its presence had been detected by a Klingon battle cruiser.
Might she and her crew have avoided that fate? Toqel had pondered that question more than once, wondering perhaps if Sarith and her crew could have found a way to survive until rescue arrived, had the Bloodied Talon been equipped with a more efficient cloaking device. As a military liaison to the Senate, Toqel had always been committed to using her influence as a means of seeing that those who served the Praetor in uniform were provided the proper resources to ensure the safety and security of the Romulan people. In the time since her daughter’s death, her resolve had only strengthened in this regard.
Despite her convictions, Toqel knew that the Senate’s more conservative members would likely view her next words and the ideas they conveyed as controversial, to say the least. Glancing to Vrax for affirmation, she saw the Praetor offer a slight nod for her to continue
“The truth of the matter is that while the Klingon Empire may well prove to be the more formidable enemy, besting them yields no tangible long-range results. We all know that their warrior ethos demands that they subvert weaker enemies to their rule, but the harsh reality is that the Klingons pursue their program of subjugation simply to survive.” It was common knowledge that the space currently controlled by the Klingons was lacking in planets with sufficient natural resources to sustain enduring growth, and their efforts at expansion had been hampered by the Federation. As with the Romulan Empire, the Klingons also faced the prospect of having to combat the Federation as both sides continued to move toward the denser regions of the galaxy, where allies and resources awaited whoever should make it there first.
D’tran held his hand to his mouth in order to stifle a raspy cough before asking, “You’re suggesting the Klingons may have more in common with us than the Federation, and less reason to fight us if we were to reach some form of agreement?”
“Not simply an agreement, Senator,” Toqel replied, unable to keep a slight hint of satisfaction from creeping into her voice. She then smiled, if only slightly. “I’m proposing an alliance. According to data obtained by spies we’ve placed within the Empire, their newest class
of battle cruiser is capable of meeting the power requirements for our new model of cloaking field generator. If a pact can be reached, we might avail ourselves of such vessels, at least long enough to study them and use that knowledge to design ships to meet our own needs.”
“Why would the Klingons enter into such a pact?” Senator Anitra countered, her expression one of undisguised skepticism. “What do they gain from it?”
Before Toqel could reply, Ditrius interceded. “We will of course have to offer something of value to them, Senator. It may be something as simple as unobstructed passage through our space to an area they wish to explore for potential conquest. They may well want access to our cloaking technology.”
“We have not yet refined this part of our proposal,” Toqel said, suppressing the urge to rebuke the vice proconsul for his brash interjection in front of the Praetor and the Senate. “But these are Klingons, after all. Surely we are capable of standing up to them at the negotiating table?”
“Take care, Proconsul, that you don’t underestimate our enemy,” Levok said, making no effort to hide his disapproval at what he was hearing. “Such thinking led to our defeat at the hands of the humans during the war. By sharing such a major tactical advantage with a sworn enemy, what does this mean for the security of Romulan territory and interests? The Klingons are conquerors, not collaborators. It is what they’ve always been. Mark my words, Proconsul; time and history will bear this out.”
Star Trek: Seven Deadly Sins Page 2
