• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Spock said, “The Intrepid also has shuttlecraft and runabouts, all of which are capable of warp speeds far in excess of what the Vkruk can achieve. Such craft are notoriously difficult for some starships to hang on to.”

Esperanza squinted at the viewer. “You realize what you’re suggesting, Mr. Ambassador?”

“Yes. I am suggesting a way to keep the Remans alive without damaging our relationship with the Klingon Empire.”

The president put her hands on her hips. “Mr. Ambassador, for the record, I have to say that I’m ashamed of you, and find your suggestion that we allow the Remans to steal from the Intrepid to be repugnant in the extreme, and unworthy of your position as a Federation ambassador. That’s the sort of thing that would make us look like idiots.”

“Yes, Madam President.” Spock spoke the words in his usual deadpan.

After a few moments’ silence, the president then said, “Commander Bowles, I assume you recorded everything that Ambassador Spock and I just said?”

“Yes, ma’am, and I’d say I feel about the same way you do.”

“Glad to hear that. I certainly wouldn’t want to look like an idiot more than seven or eight more times in my administration.”

Bowles smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“All right, I want regular updates on the situation. Ambassador Spock, Ambassador Rozhenko-keep working on the High Council on the relocation notion. Since they do like that, we may as well keep their focus there.”

“It may not matter,” Shostakova said, “if they take umbrage to not getting the Remans.”

“One step at a time, Raisa,” the president said. “I want hourly updates, people. Let’s make this work.”

Zhres was running late for the afternoon meeting, but when he saw Krim, he had to stop to talk to him. “Excuse me, Councillor?”

Krim, who had been walking down one of the hallways on the second floor of the Palais, stopped at the Andorian’s words. Zhres walked briskly down the hallway to catch up, admiring the complex earring that dangled from the councillor’s right ear. It’s certainly more impressive than Jorel’s.

“What can I do for you- ” Krim paused. “I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name. You’re Kant Jorel’s assistant, yes?”

“Yes, sir-please, call me Zhres. Do you have a moment?”

“I was just heading for the transporter bay. I have a reception to attend.”

“Right, the London Dinner.”

Krim frowned. “Is that what you wanted me to talk about?”

“No.” The London Dinner was an annual reception for selected members of the Federation Council. This year, Krim’s name had come up for it for the first time since he’d joined the council three and a half years earlier. “We’ve gotten a request from FNS to do a feature on you.”

At that, Krim smirked. Zhres had noted that the man rarely smiled. “Why would they wish to do that?”

“Well, Councillor, yours is an interesting story. You went from supporting a political movement on Bajor that favored breaking all ties with the Federation, and now you represent Bajor to the Federation. Not to mention your service both to the Resistance and the Bajoran Militia.” Zhres then smiled at Krim’s slightly irritated look. “That, at least, is how Alhara sold it to me.”

“And Alhara is whom, exactly?”

“The producer at FNS who wishes to do the feature.”

“Does Kant think this is a good idea?”

“Yes, Councillor.”

Fixing Zhres with a stare that he had no doubt perfected as a Bajoran general, Krim asked, “Do you?”

“Absolutely,” Zhres said. “FNS is the most comprehensive news source I’ve ever encountered, and the one with the most journalistic integrity. I firmly believe that it should be rewarded wherever possible, and this feature not only does that, but helps us.”

“In what way?”

“I think it’s good for people to see the real face of politicians.”

Now the smirk came back. “I find that statement difficult to credit from someone who’s met as many politicians as you have.”

Zhres laughed.

“One thing confuses me, Zhres-why didn’t Kant come to me with this himself?”

Zhres’s antennae wiggled. “Well,