Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Raise the Dawn (Star Trek, the Next Generation)

by George III, David R.

  Kamemor had never been to Earth, although during her years as an ambassador, she’d thought that an opportunity would likely arise. But back then, the tensions among the Empire, the Federation, and the Klingons had been too great to overcome. While so many of her people had sought an alliance between Romulus and Qo’noS—specifically to empower them to attack Earth and the Federation—she had contributed to a different effort, one that she’d hoped would force the Romulan Star Empire to accept peace, if only grudgingly. After the Tomed Incident, peace had come, but in the form of Romulan isolationism. As praetor, she wanted more than that—much more.

  Kamemor looked around the office. Two men—clearly security officers—stood inside the room, silent and stoic. Although she understood the reasonable need for them, their presence somehow felt accusatory.

  The praetor gazed through the wall of windows that looked out on Paris. Twilight embraced the city and would soon draw deeper into the clutches of night. Already lights had begun to twinkle throughout the landscape. Paris did not resemble Ki Baratan or Ra’tleihfi or Villera’trel or any other city on Romulus, but had a character all its own. The iconic tower by the river—she’d seen it before in holopics, though she couldn’t recall its name—seemed to imbue its surroundings with a certain quality, a certain style that made it unique in her experience.

  Behind her, Kamemor heard the door open. She turned in her chair to see the president of the Federation enter the office at a brisk clip. Her chief aide, whose name Kamemor did not recall, followed. The praetor rose as a matter of etiquette, but Nanietta Bacco offered no greetings and made no reintroductions. She began speaking as she made her way behind her desk, and as her aide moved toward the chair beside Kamemor.

  “According to Admiral Akaar,” the president said without even making eye contact, “you made quite an entrance.”

  After Bacco sat, so too did the praetor and the president’s aide. “I hope you will excuse the subterfuge,” Kamemor said. “But my previous attempt to engage you met with rejection.”

  Bacco peered across the desk, her face a mask, devoid of any sense of fellowship. “I’m afraid that I wasn’t in the mood to talk with you after the crew of a Romulan warbird participated in an unprovoked attack on a Federation space station,” she said, her voice cold. “To be frank, Praetor, I’m not really sure that I want to talk with you now.”

  Kamemor understood the anger she felt from the president, but it disappointed her. She knew that the two leaders wanted the same things for their people, and she’d hoped that they could quickly return to the common ground they’d trod at the summit on Cort. The praetor realized, though, that it would take a great deal of effort to reestablish, even minimally, their political relationship. “I understand your feelings, Madam President,” Kamemor said. “I am very sorry for the loss of life in the Bajoran system.”

  “I’m afraid that your apology doesn’t mean much to the men, women, and children who were killed on Deep Space Nine,” Bacco said, her anger not abating, “or to the families and friends robbed of their loved ones.”

  Kamemor lowered her head, sincerely pained by the thought of Romulans taking such actions under her leadership, no matter that they’d done so without her knowledge or sanction. “It was a great tragedy,” she said.

  “No, it wasn’t a tragedy,” Bacco snapped back. “It was a crime. It was murder.”

  Kamemor raised her head and looked across the desk at the president. She saw eyes filled not just with the anguish of loss, but with venom. It hardened Kamemor. “Yes, apparently it was murder,” she said.

  “‘Apparently’?” Bacco fired back.

  It seemed to Kamemor that the conversation threatened to unravel even before it had really gotten started. She waited a beat, willing herself not to react to Bacco’s heated emotions. “Madam President,” she said, “when we met at the summit, when you and I and the other leaders negotiated to open the Typhon Expanse to Khitomer Accords vessels, and the Gamma Quadrant to Typhon Pact vessels, I did so with great hope. But I felt an even greater sense of accomplishment when you and I forged an agreement specifically between Romulus and Earth. The Federation has allies, and the Empire has allies, but we are the preeminent powers in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. We lead not just our own people, and not even the alliances of which we are a part; we lead this entire section of the galaxy. In the end, peace and war are our responsibility. And with our agreement to launch a joint project . . . a mission of exploration . . . to me, that epitomized hope. For we would not simply be exploring the universe, but each other.”

  Bacco did not reply at once, and the praetor thought that perhaps she had reached her. But when the president finally did speak, she still seethed. “Fine words, Praetor,” she said, “and yet the crew you sent on that mission of exploration faked the destruction of their own vessel.”

  “What?” Kamemor said, both surprised and confused by the president’s assertion. “Do you mean that the crew of the Eletrix is still alive?”

  Bacco blinked, as though she did not understand the praetor’s question. “No,” she said. “When the crew of the Eletrix was about to be captured by Starfleet, they destroyed themselves and their ship.”

  “But you said . . .” Kamemor tried to make sense of the president’s statements, but couldn’t. “I don’t understand. You’re saying that the Eletrix crew destroyed their ship and faked the destruction of their ship?”

  Bacco stood up so quickly that her chair teetered and almost toppled to the carpet, but then it thumped back down onto the floor. She pointed at Kamemor, and it seemed as though the president could barely contain her rage. “Do . . . not . . . lie . . . to me.”

  “Madam President, I am not here to lie to you,” Kamemor said, distraught that she could not better control the flow of the conversation, but suddenly aware that she lacked essential details about exactly what had taken place in the Bajoran system. “I am here to try to save both the Empire and the Federation, to save our people from destroying each other.”

  “Then you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Bacco said, dropping her hand back to her side. “Do you know how many people here screamed for an armed response to your attack? Who wanted us to declare war right then and there?”

  “Why didn’t you?” Kamemor asked quietly.

  “I keep asking myself that,” Bacco said. “But believe me, there’s still time.”

  Kamemor peered up at the president and attempted to imagine how she would feel in her place. She tried to gauge what her own response would have been if Federation, Klingon, and Cardassian starships had made their way into the Typhon Expanse and destroyed a space station there. She would have felt betrayed, of course, but also angry and distrustful. Wouldn’t she have wanted to strike back? Maybe. Probably. But that could not be the answer. “The Romulan Empire does not want war.”

  Bacco raised her hand, and for a moment, the praetor thought she meant to strike her. She even heard at least one of the security officers behind her move, and realized that they thought the same thing. But then Bacco brought the flat of her hand down hard on her desk, making a loud slapping noise. “The Romulan Empire seems to do nothing but incite war,” she said, her voice rising. Her fury evident, she stalked out from behind her desk and across the office. When she reached the far side, she turned and demanded, “Why are you here?”

  Kamemor didn’t know what she should say, concerned about angering the president further. But she had traveled to Earth—had risked coming to Earth—for a reason, and she would see it through. “I am here because I am concerned that another attack on the Federation may be about to take place.”

  Bacco stared silently from across the room. From beside her, the president’s aide said, “Another attack? Where? When?” The aide had been so quiet that the praetor had forgotten that she was even there.

  “I don’t know,” Kamemor admitted.

  “You don’t know?” Bacco said, marching back across the office. “Then why come here? So that when
the attack occurs and more Federation citizens are killed, you can claim that you tried to warn me, and we therefore shouldn’t retaliate?” She returned behind her desk, but did not sit. “That’s not going to happen. If there’s another Romulan attack, you can say good-bye to the Neutral Zone.”

  Kamemor said nothing. She sat motionless and looked up at Bacco. The conversation had spun out of control. She had underestimated the president’s anger, probably because Kamemor knew her own good intentions, while Bacco saw only treachery. The praetor had to make sure that the president understood all that had happened so that they could move forward together. “Utopia Planitia,” she finally said.

  “What?” Bacco asked.

  “The plans for your quantum slipstream drive,” Kamemor said, “were stolen from the Utopia Planitia facility and taken to the Breen Confederacy.”

  “Yes,” Bacco said. She sat back down behind her desk. She looked tired to the praetor, as though her own anger had worn her down. Kamemor empathized; she knew the ire she felt for Sela, for Tomalak, for Admiral Vellon, and how much that had drained her energy and will. “Twenty-one Federation deaths in that attack,” Bacco said. “An attack in which a Romulan vessel participated.”

  “You reported it as an industrial accident,” Kamemor said.

  The president’s eyes burned. “Because if I had reported the truth,” she said, “then we would have gone to war.”

  “But that’s not the only reason,” Kamemor said. “You did not reveal what happened so that you could, with impunity, send a covert team into the Confederacy to destroy what the Breen had stolen from you.”

  “What the Breen and the Romulans had stolen,” Bacco said.

  “Yes,” Kamemor agreed. “But not on my order.”

  “You see, though, that doesn’t matter much to me,” the president said. “Because even if you didn’t order the attack on Utopia Planitia, it still happened on your watch. Whether you are willfully bent on perpetrating violence against the Federation, or whether you’re so weak and ineffective a leader that you can’t prevent your own people from doing so, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Because it all ends with the same result.”

  “I knew nothing of the assault on Utopia Planitia,” Kamemor said. She found the admission difficult to make, probably because of the president’s remark about her being an ineffectual leader—and more likely because, to some extent, that had been true. “When I learned about what happened, and about the likely use of a phasing cloak in the commission of the theft, I feared Romulan involvement. I had the matter investigated, and when I learned the identity of the starship commander who took part in the operation, he was removed from duty and sent to a military prison, where he still remains.”

  “That still doesn’t bring back the people who died at Utopia Planitia,” Bacco said.

  “Nor those who died in Breen space when their slipstream prototype was destroyed,” Kamemor said.

  “Don’t you dare try to turn this around,” Bacco said, raising a finger toward the praetor. Kamemor knew that she had risked the president’s wrath with her comment, but she needed to make a larger point. “I didn’t order an unprovoked attack. I was reacting to one and protecting my people.”

  “There are those who feel that acquiring slipstream drive technology,” Kamemor said, “is a means of protecting the people of the Typhon Pact worlds.”

  Bacco dropped her hand to the top of her desk with a thud. “They claim that the drive provides the Federation with a military advantage, is that the reasoning? Because you’ll notice that the Federation hasn’t used its ‘superior technology’ against the Typhon Pact.”

  “It is my understanding that in extracting your covert operatives from Breen space,” Kamemor said, “a slipstream-enabled vessel was utilized.” Bacco opened her mouth to reply, but the praetor pressed on. “But that is immaterial to me,” she said. “I don’t agree with those who see the Federation as a threat because of slipstream. I don’t believe that your government will ever launch a preemptive strike against the Romulan Empire or any other of the Typhon Pact members.”

  “That’s not who I am,” Bacco agreed. “That’s not who we in the Federation are.”

  “I believe that, Madam President,” Kamemor said.

  “All right,” Bacco said. “So why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because I want you to understand that I didn’t know about the attack on Utopia Planitia,” Kamemor said, “and that I took measures afterward to prevent something like it from happening again.”

  “By imprisoning the commander of the Romulan vessel,” Bacco said.

  “Yes,” Kamemor said. “And it was a simple matter to characterize the entire operation as one orchestrated by my predecessor before her death, and set in motion well before I became praetor.”

  “That still doesn’t absolve you of blame,” Bacco said.

  “No,” Kamemor allowed. “But these are still relevant facts of which you should be aware.”

  “They’re not that relevant,” Bacco said, “considering what happened at the Bajoran wormhole.”

  “That was another attack by rogue elements,” Kamemor said. “At least, rogue elements from the Empire. I have so far been unable to ascertain whether the crews of the Breen and Tzenkethi ships were acting as agents of their respective governments or on their own. But the attack was clearly meant to undermine the burgeoning détente among the worlds of the Typhon Pact and the Khitomer Accords.”

  Bacco squinted for a moment, as though attempting to better see the praetor. “That might be one reason for the attack,” she said.

  “You believe that there was another reason?” Kamemor asked.

  “It’s what we’ve been talking about,” Bacco said. “It was another attempt to acquire technology to help develop slipstream.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Kamemor said. In a way, it pleased her that the attack had possessed a purpose—albeit a misguided one—other than just to sow terror and distrust. “I didn’t know that Starfleet had a slipstream production operation at Deep Space Nine.”

  “There was no such operation at the station,” Bacco said. “That’s not what happened.”

  “Forgive me, Madam President,” Kamemor said, frustrated, “but I don’t know what happened. I came here to find that out, so that I can stop it from happening again.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Bacco asked.

  “At this point, you probably shouldn’t,” Kamemor said. “But whether you do or not, would it make a difference to tell me what you know about the attack in the Bajoran system?”

  The president looked to her aide. “I don’t see any reason not to tell her,” the woman said.

  “All right,” Bacco said. “When the Enterprise and the Eletrix were engaged on their mission in the Gamma Quadrant, the Romulan crew staged the crash of their vessel, with a complete loss of life. They did this so that they could then sneak into the Dominion and steal equipment that would allow the Breen to develop slipstream drive.”

  “How do you know this?” Kamemor asked.

  “We know about the staged crash because the Enterprise crew found it when they responded to a counterfeit distress call,” Bacco said. “And we know about the theft of the equipment from the Dominion because we spoke with a Founder after it happened. We believe that the crew of the Eletrix destroyed their ship so that Starfleet would not discover the equipment they’d stolen.”

  “Are you certain that the equipment was stolen from the Dominion,” Kamemor asked, “and not given by them?”

  Again, the president looked to her aide. “We’re as sure as we can reasonably be,” the woman said.

  “That’s good,” Kamemor said, “because an alliance between the Dominion and the rogue elements of the Typhon Pact would be extremely dangerous.”

  “The possibility did concern us,” said the aide.

  Kamemor nodded. “Madam President,” she said, “since the attack in the Bajoran system, we have identified the people
in my government and in the Imperial Fleet responsible for plotting that action, as well as the theft at Utopia Planitia. I am taking steps to permanently remove their ability to mount additional such acts.”

  “Didn’t you say you’d come here because you were concerned that there might be another attack?” Bacco asked.

  “Yes,” Kamemor said. “A Romulan warbird has disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Its commander was an officer aboard the Romulan vessel at Utopia Planitia.”

  “So you believe that this commander will make another attempt to acquire the slipstream drive?” Bacco asked.

  “No, I didn’t, because I didn’t know that the attack in the Bajoran system had anything to do with slipstream,” Kamemor said. “But that seems like a logical conclusion.”

  “But you don’t know where or when this commander might attack?” Bacco asked.

  “No,” Kamemor said. “But I believe that there is somebody on Earth who might know.”

  “Are you accusing somebody in my government of complicity?” Bacco asked.

  “No,” Kamemor said. “I am accusing somebody in your custody.”

  “Tomalak,” Bacco said.

  “Yes.”

  “Your former proconsul.”

  “I never agreed much with Tomalak,” Kamemor said, “and I certainly didn’t know of his hidden agenda, but I kept him on as proconsul because I value opposing perspectives.”

  Bacco leaned back in her chair. “So you want to speak with him?” she asked.