A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [74]
“It’s funny, I could’ve sworn this was going to be a civil debate. I mean, yeah, I was expecting a few cheap shots—and I’ll definitely give you points for the Cestus III jab. That was—to use one of those baseball references you seem to like so much—a fastball you blew right by me.” She turned to the audience. “But to take that kind of patronizing tone about my understanding of the realities of resource allocation is, to borrow from another sport for a minute, hitting below the belt. If my grandson talked to me like that, I’d wash his mouth out. It’s also bunk. Believe me, Special Emissary, I know from resource allocation. You see, back about ten years ago, a bunch of diplomats just like you decided it would be a good idea to give a bunch of Federation colonies to the Cardassians. I’m sure it looked great at the negotiating table, but the hard reality was that a lot of people had to leave their homes. About a quarter million of those wound up on Cestus III. Getting a twenty-five percent population increase all at once on a colony that has had a below-average population curve for a hundred years will tell you everything you need to know about resource allocation. So, Special Emissary, to use one of my down-home-style phrases, don’t teach this grandmother how to suck eggs.”
The room erupted into spontaneous applause. Abrik felt his stomach shrivel up. Looking back, he realized that Pagro had pushed a little too far.
However, recalling what the next question would be, Abrik breathed a sigh of relief. Ozla’s going to ask about the Klingons. Fel will nail this one.
Abrik walked over to the replicator in the far corner as he heard the moderator say, “The next question for Governor Bacco is from Ozla Graniv of Seeker. The question is: Governor, how do you respond to Special Emissary Pagro’s insistence that the Klingon Empire change its ways in order to preserve the alliance?”
Bacco shook her head and smiled. “You know it’s funny, I would’ve thought that a diplomat of Special Emissary Pagro’s standing would know better than to think that change can be effected at phaser-point. And make no mistake, that’s what we’re talking about here, because what he’s proposing is to threaten the Klingons. Thing is, change doesn’t come from threats—especially within the Klingon Empire. It also doesn’t come quickly, when you’re talking about societal norms that have been in place for thousands of years, unless there’s some kind of catastrophe associated with it. But you know what’s funny? Since the Khitomer Accords, the rate at which the Klingon Empire has conquered other worlds has decreased by seventy-five percent. Even if you slice out the first fifty years after the Accords, when the destruction of Praxis left the empire in pretty lousy shape, it’s still a sixty percent decrease. More humane medical practices are slowly becoming the norm within the empire, as well. Now, those statistics may not seem like much for ninety years’ work, but it’s a start, and it’s one that’ll have long-term benefits that won’t start another war—because that’s what we’re talking about here. Special Emissary Pagro’s threat will only serve to get more good people killed in a conflict that neither side should have to fight.” She turned to look at Pagro. “Frankly, sir, I’ve had enough of war, and I don’t see what’s to be gained by putting us in a position to fight another one. It’s, to put it mildly, a very bad allocation of our resources.”
More applause. Abrik found himself no longer interested in drinking the allira punch he’d gotten from the replicator, and he set it down on a side table. I have got to stop underestimating that woman. Get it back, Fel, get it back.
“Special Emissary Pagro, you have one minute for rebuttal.”
Pagro’s lips were pursed. After a two-second pause, he finally spoke in a much tighter voice than he’d been using up until now. “The Klingons conquer people. I don’t know how much more clear I can make that. They subjugate people to their whims, and make them into second-class citizens, almost slaves. Worse,