Star Trek: Typhon Pact - 13 - The Fall: Peaceable Kingdoms
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Moving to stand behind her desk, zh’Tarash nodded. “I know. Given his recent transition from starship command to headquarters, I believe he’ll offer a fresh view that might be lacking in his . . . How shall I say it? His planet-bound counterparts?” She held up a hand. “No disrespect to the admiralty, most if not all of whom have distinguished themselves, but I think Starfleet’s upper command structure benefits from the regular infusion of new perspectives. Since Jean-Luc Picard has elected to remain on starship duty and I won’t be benefiting from his counsel on a regular basis, William Riker is an able substitute.”
“Rumors are that Admiral Riker may be requesting a transfer back to full-time starship duty aboard the Titan,” th’Priil replied.
“I could not fault him for such a choice,” zh’Tarash said, “but perhaps we might persuade him to at least give the matter careful consideration before reaching a decision.” Settling herself into the chair at her desk, she gestured toward the door. “Am I correct in assuming the others are standing outside, waiting with anticipation and ears or other auditory organs pressed to the door?”
Th’Priil laughed. “Correct you are, Zha President.” He reached up to press the decorative pendant above his jacket’s right breast pocket, the accessory also serving as the housing for a personal communicator. “Dimitri, the president is ready for us.”
The doors leading from zh’Tarash’s office parted to admit other members of her senior staff: Dimitri Velonov, th’Priil’s deputy chief of staff; Leressi sh’Daran, the new administration’s communications director; and Sovek, her press secretary. As they filed into the office and moved to stand before her desk, zh’Tarash could not help smiling. “If anyone wishes to reconsider their appointment—th’Priil is already having misgivings about postponing his own retirement—now would be a good time to flee for your lives.” She paused for effect, while th’Priil made a show of turning to look at each of his companions. When no one moved or said anything, the chief of staff returned his attention to zh’Tarash.
“It appears as though we have nothing better to do, Zha President.”
“That is welcome news,” zh’Tarash replied, her smile widening, “as th’Priil keeps reminding me that there is much work ahead of us. However, there also is much to celebrate. With Andor’s return and my election to this office, I sense we have a new opportunity to remind every citizen—and anyone else who might be watching—about the importance of a strong Federation. In weeks and months to come, I want to demonstrate that the values and beliefs that drew every member world to join us are at the very heart of the bond that holds us together. Yes, we may disagree from time to time, and we may even test the limits of that bond on occasion, but after all the sibling squabbling, we reunite and stand together as we have since the Federation’s founding. That is what I want to emphasize. That is what I want to champion. I want that ideal to complement and bolster any other issue we might pursue during the next three years.”
“Don’t you mean the first three years?” Velonov asked, offering a knowing grin. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “That is, we hope it’s only the first three years.”
Shaking her head, zh’Tarash rose from her seat. “You have been with me long enough to know that I don’t make assumptions, and neither do I take anything for granted. What we know is that citizens of this Federation have seen fit to place me in the position of leading them for what should be the remainder of President Bacco’s term. Whether we’re given another opportunity will depend entirely on what we accomplish—and fail to accomplish—during this period. I have no interest in discussing how I might convince the citizenry into giving me another term; it’s my intention to demonstrate through word and action that I have earned that privilege, and that is something I cannot do without each of you.”
She moved around her desk and stood before it, removing from between her and her trusted advisors and friends not only the physical barrier it presented but also the position and power it symbolized. Reaching toward th’Priil, she placed her hand on his left arm. “Because of fear and paranoia engineered through lies and treacherous deeds, a very tragic mistake was nearly visited upon all of us. We, as a people, were prepared to sacrifice our principles in the quest for . . . what? Security, whether actual safety or some illusion engineered for us?” She sighed. “We stumbled.”
“Some would argue that we even crumbled under our own weight, Zha President,” said Sovek. “At least, for a time.”
“Perhaps we did. Now, however, we’ve regained our footing and, I believe, our balance. We’re ready once more to resume moving forward.” Gesturing to the press secretary and sh’Daran, zh’Tarash added, “That’s going to be your primary mission in the weeks and months to come. We need to emphasize our new, total commitment to the core values and beliefs that are the Federation’s very foundation, how they drew us all together, and how they continue to bolster us as we forge ahead. That attitude has to be present in everything we say, and everything we do.”
Sh’Daran, her hands clasped behind her back, seemed to straighten her posture as zh’Tarash regarded her, and she offered a simple nod. “Understood, Zha President.”
“Without question,” added Sovek.
Once more, zh’Tarash smiled. “You all know I have a deep respect for President Bacco and much of what she worked to accomplish during her tenure in this office, in peace as well as during times of immense crisis. I know she was not perfect, and she made her share of mistakes, but it was her outlook and her genuine desire to serve with honor and integrity that I still admire.”
She paused, regarding the people who had become almost as close and important to her as any member of her family. Each of them had chosen to forgo any semblance of a normal life, placing as secondary considerations their own families, to say nothing of their individual career aspirations, in order to commit themselves to a common, higher call to civic duty. It filled her with joy, gratitude, and confidence to know that people of such caliber and character would be supporting her in the months and years to come.
“Many challenges await us. There are wounds to heal, promises to keep, and legacies to preserve. In the days ahead, I’ll be making many, many demands of you, the first of which is this: Strive each day to meet the standard Nanietta Bacco established. This is not my presidency; these next three years belong to her. She left much good work unfinished, and it now falls to us to see her vision—her dreams—fulfilled. If we fail, I promise you it will not be due to lack of will or effort on our part.”
A knowing, satisfied expression brightened th’Priil’s features. “It most certainly will not, Zha President. We stand ready to serve.”
“As do I, so I suppose we should begin. The Federation is waiting for us, as is the future.” Zh’Tarash was buoyed by the energy and even eagerness radiating from the people she had asked to accompany her on this journey. A small group, possessed of purpose and determination; could they bring a new spirit of change and hope to the hundreds of billions of citizens who now would be looking to them—to her—for guidance and leadership?
There truly is only one way to find out.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my editors at Pocket Books for inviting me to contribute to The Fall. “Events” such as this are a challenge, requiring a great deal of coordination and cooperation between writer and editor as well as writer and other writer(s), and this was no exception. Thankfully, our editors were up to the formidable task of keeping all the trains on their respective tracks and just “being there” whenever I needed to hash out a bothersome plot point or three.
Tips of the hat and the glass go out to my fellow authors, David R. George III, Una McCormack, David Mack, and especially James Swallow. Each of them brought their A-game to this project, giving freely of their time and feedback as I strove (struggled?) to bring to a close everything they had established in their books. It’s been quite the ride, lady and gents.
Finally, I offer my sincere thanks and continued a
ppreciation to our readers. I mean, this really is all your fault, you know.
Until next time!
About the Author
Dayton Ward has been modified to fit this medium, to write in the space allotted, and has been edited for content. Reader discretion is advised.
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Cover design by Alan Dingman
Cover art by Doug Drexler
ISBN 978-1-4767-1899-6
ISBN 978-1-4767-1902-3 (ebook)
Contents
Historian’s Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author