Articles of the Federation - Keith R. A. DeCandido [46]
“Apology accepted, Madam President. May I ask who else will be participating?”
“Jas Abrik, Raisa Shostakova, and Starfleet’s sending Admiral Akaar over.”
“I would recommend that Starfleet send a different admiral, Madam President.” T’Latrek spoke with as much disapproval as the president was ever likely to hear from the councillor.
“Why is that?”
“Admiral Akaar has a personal relationship with Ambassador Spock. The ambassador was instrumental in saving the admiral’s mother when the latter was pregnant with him. I do not believe he will serve as an objective judge of Spock’s words.”
“Maybe not, but that’s not what I want from him. He’s been Starfleet’s point man on this from the beginning, and I want him in there. However, if you want a blunt assessment, why don’t we bring Molmaan into it?”
“A reasonable compromise. Thank you, Madam President.”
Standing up, Nan held up her hand and parted her two middle fingers in the Vulcan salute. “Thank you, Councillor. Peace and long life.”
T’Latrek rose and returned the salute. “Live long and prosper, Madam President.”
Chapter Ten
KANT JOREL TRIED not to grind his teeth while Artrin made his resignation speech. He said all the right things and apologized for what he’d done-though, to Jorel’s surprise, Artrin limited his apology to the victim of his decision. The councillor was forthright and eloquent.
Jorel knew it would go badly once he was done.
Reluctantly, he had to give credit to President Bacco for doing it this way-and for letting Jorel see the resignation first. He had made a couple of changes, softening some of the language to make Artrin look more contrite, which he’d accepted. By doing it in the room, by preempting the story before somebody could break it, Jorel got to control the story, at least initially.
The apology, however, had been ad-libbed. Jorel worried about the reaction to that.
Not nearly as much as he worried about the subsequent press questions that he would get when Artrin was done.
When the councillor finished, he opened the floor for questions. Earlier, Jorel had told him to call on Regradnischrak from Sebrotnizskeapoierf first. A lightweight from Antares, he wouldn’t ask a substantive question, and it would give Artrin a chance to get his bearings.
To Jorel’s surprise, Regradnischrak asked a better question than Jorel would have credited him with. “Councillor, why did you limit your apology to this chameloid you wrongly imprisoned?”
“Because he is the only one to whom I owe an apology.” He pointed to Regia Maldonado of FNS.
“I’m surprised you feel that way, Councillor,” Regia said. “Don’t other people deserve an apology? The people of Triex, the people of the Federation, your fellow councillors and the president-don’t they deserve an apology?”
“No. Triexian law states that classified judicial sessions may not be spoken of in the presence of anyone who did not participate in the session, unless one is instructed to by a superior. If I had told them, I would have violated the law. I have nothing to apologize for on that front.”
“So why talk about it now?”
“I am-or was-a Federation councillor. My superior-the president of the Federation-ordered me to speak of it. Let me repeat that I deeply regret the decision that I made and the damage it did to Wusekl’s life. What I do today is all I can offer him in recompense. But he is the damaged party, not the people of Triex, not the people of the Federation, not my fellow councillors, and not President Bacco.” He then pointed to the new reporter from Seeker, whose name Jorel couldn’t remember. Idly, he wondered when Ozla would be coming back from Tezwa-and why she thought going to that hellhole