A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [83]
Again, Alexander did not take the bait. “I’m also a Federation citizen, sir. In fact, I was born there. But I also lived in the embassy when I was a child before my mother died.”
Qolka squinted at Alexander, looking like he was making some kind of deduction. Then his eyes widened again and he grinned. “You’re Ambassador K’Ehleyr’s boy, aren’t you?”
Alexander smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“She was quite a woman. Only Federation ambassador I could stand being near for more than five minutes, including your father.” Qolka laughed. “And she and Worf actually mated? It is a strange universe.”
“I’ve noticed that, sir. If we can get to the business at hand
“
“That Wu person said you wished to speak with me about the Federation alliance.”
“Yes, sir.” Alexander paused to take a breath. “The Federation Council’s concerned about the state of the alliance.”
“Really?” Qolka grabbed another mug—Alexander was pretty sure this was the warnog—and held it near his mouth. “Then they should have allowed us to deal with Tezwa ourselves.”
“Sir, I assume you’ve read the reports from Tezwa.”
Qolka shrugged. “My aides have. What of it?”
“You’re aware, aren’t you, sir, that it was the crew of the Enterprise—which was the only ship to survive the Tezwans’ first attack on the fleet—who were able to destroy the Tezwan weapons. If they hadn’t, the second fleet that went in—a fleet which I was part of, by the way, on the Ya’Vang—wouldn’t have survived.”
“Of course they were able to destroy the weapons—they were Federation cannons that the Tezwans stole from Starfleet. Which is what I’d expect from a collection of weaklings. The Federation’s concept of security is pathetic.” Now he drank from the mug. Slamming it down after guzzling its contents, he said, “With each day, I see less and less reason to continue to be allied with a body of fools. And now your own leader calls for us to change our ways in order to be worthy of remaining aligned with you.” He laughed. “It is even more pathetic. If anything, the Federation should change its ways.”
Based on the lengthy meeting he had with Father and Wu the previous day, Alexander had expected something like this, so his answer was ready. “Fel Pagro isn’t the leader of anything, Councillor. He’s just a man trying to get elected. There are plenty of people in the Federation who think the way he does, and he’s hoping there’s enough of them that they’ll vote for him.”
“This is supposed to put me at ease?” Qolka asked with a snort. He picked up the prune juice mug.
“No, but this is: Pagro’s losing ground. The Federation News Service takes regular polls, and with each one, the number of people who say they’re gonna vote for Pagro goes down. His opponent—”
“—is a female,” Qolka said dismissively.
Alexander gritted his teeth. “So was my mother, Councillor.”
Smiling, Qolka said, “Which is why I could stand being in her presence. Your mother was quite the comely one.”
Resisting the great urge to respond with violence—mostly because he knew Qolka would stuff him headfirst into one of the drink mugs if he tried—Alexander instead said, “Well, Governor Bacco has negotiated treaties with the Gorn and the Metrons.”
That seemed to surprise Qolka. “Really? A female did that?”
“Yes, sir.” Alexander let out a breath. Klingons generally respected the Gorn, as much as they respected anyone, and they had a healthy regard for advanced beings like the Metrons, owing mostly to the empire’s experiences with the Organians a century earlier. “And she’s come out in favor of keeping the alliance strong.”
“That merely proves she knows that we will crush the Federation if we do go to war.”
“Really? You sure of that? Since the war, the Federation’s been rebuilding its fleet, and it’s getting stronger every day. In that same four-year period, the empire’s lost ships at battles