A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [32]
Then again, he thought, there’ll be plenty of speeches.
“It’s long past time we stopped making excuses for our so-called allies. Fifteen years ago, we signed a treaty with the Cardassians, yet we let their oppression of the Bajorans continue. We aided them in their conflict with the Klingons only to have them turn and join the Dominion behind our backs. And look at the Klingons—they continue to conquer worlds, indeed they make such conquest policy. Yes, they’re taking worlds in distant parts of space nowhere near Federation interests, but does that change what they’re doing? Do we not fight for the rights of Bajorans, of the Children of San-Tarah, of the Brenlekki, and of all the others who do not have the freedoms we enjoy because it’s convenient for us to be allied with their oppressors?”
Abrik certainly was grateful for the chance to right the many wrongs of the Zife administration. Their idiotic covert actions would serve only to hurt the Federation. Abrik left Starfleet because he couldn’t stand the secrecy, the compromises that he was forced into for the so-called greater good. What’s the good of being a free and open society if we still have to hide like rats in the shadows?
“We fought to preserve the Federation’s way of life. Did the people who died on this bridge sacrifice their lives for nothing? I say, no. The people who died on this bridge died because they were free. If it’s worth dying for, it’s worth fighting for, and as president I will guarantee that those deaths will not be in vain and those freedoms will not go undefended. My name is Fel Pagro, and I’m running for president of the United Federation of Planets.”
The crowd, a carefully picked group of Pagro supporters, had been cheering, building to a crescendo at the end that almost drowned out his final sentence. That’s not necessarily bad, Abrik thought. It’s not like there’s anyone here for whom the information in that sentence was news. The only ones not cheering were the press, of course, because they were supposed to remain objective—or at least neutral. That’s fine, as long as they send out the whole speech.
Waving to the still-cheering crowd, Pagro left the podium he’d been standing behind and approached Abrik.
“Good work,” Abrik said.
Pagro shrugged. “It was all right. I could’ve been stronger. I cut the bit on the holographic-rights issue. It didn’t flow right. Jino’ll probably be pissed.”
They started walking toward the shuttle that was going to take them to their Earth campaign offices in Vancouver. “I’ll talk to Jino. C’mon, we’ve got a staff meeting. We’ve got to see Bacco’s speech.”
Frowning, Pagro asked, “What for? She’s just some governor who pulled a cute trick with some energy beings. Big deal. She’s nothing. We need to focus on how we’re going to—”
Abrik put a hand on Pagro’s shoulder as they walked. “Fel, listen to me. Elections are volatile things. You of all people should know that. Until those votes are actually counted, you’re not president yet, and it behooves you to be completely familiar with the one person who stands in your way.”
“Please.” Pagro rolled his eyes. “She’s only in my way insofar as I have to step on her to get the presidency. We’ve already got the important endorsements lined up on the political side and the celebrity side, and Starfleet’s pretty much in the bag. I’m telling you, Jas, now’s the time to strike—we can finally make the Federation what it needs to be, what it was always intended to be. We can—”
“Fel,” Abrik said as the shuttle door opened at their approach, “save the speeches for the people that need convincing. Let’s get you elected first, then we’ll take care of the rest of it.”
Pagro made a dismissive gesture. “Fine, fine.” He took a seat on the passenger couch.
Abrik got in next to him. And then we can really get to work, he thought. A retired admiral he