Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [93]
He had requested to be reassigned many times, but each time Praetor Narviat said he was too valuable in that position. Savalor understood the importance of serving the empire, he was very well compensated for his work, and his family’s standing had improved tremendously within the empire as a result of his posting.
But he died a little every day that he was stuck living on this cesspool of a planet.
Today would be even worse. One of the challenges of being a politician in the Klingon Empire was that Klingons had a cultural bias against falsehood. Exaggeration, posturing, self-aggrandizement-those were all acceptable, as long as there was a seed of truth at the center of them. But out-and-out lying to a warrior-particularly to the chancellor or a member of the High Council-was an invitation to have a d’k tahg plunged into your chest.
Savalor, of course, lied with ease and skill, thanks to years of practice in both academia and politics, but he feared that one day he would do so in a sufficiently transparent manner that Gowron or one of the councillors would order his death, not only disgracing him and his family, but also plunging the Romulan Empire into war.
So now, as he waited in the gallery for the entire High Council to assemble, he went over in his head what he would say, and hoped it would be enough for Gowron.
When Savalor had first been posted to Qo’noS, K’mpec had been chancellor. A larger-than-life figure, K’mpec had been a wise and noble leader for his people. It was no wonder he’d lasted longer in the position than anyone else in the Klingon Empire’s history.
He was also easy to talk to, which could not be said for his successor. Gowron, with his wide eyes and suspicious nature, always made Savalor feel as if he were on the defensive.
Such was the case now, as the council steward called the session to order the instant that Gowron entered, trailed by four members of his personal guard, the Yan-Isleth.
Before Gowron completely settled in the high-backed chair at the center of the chambers’ rear wall, he bellowed, “Step forward, Ambassador Savalor, and tell me why I should not have you killed and call for the council to declare war on your empire.”
“Because the Romulan Star Empire has committed no acts to justify such a war, Chancellor,” Savalor said calmly as he stepped into the center of the chamber. A light shone in his face, but the nictitating membrane inside his eyelids prevented him from being blinded, or even having to blink. The councillors who stood in a semicircle around Gowron’s seat were now all but engulfed by darkness, leaving only Gowron, on whom another light shone, visible. Well, fine, he’s the one I need to address.
“What do you call the destruction of the No’Var Outpost?” Gowron asked angrily.
Holding up the padd onto which he’d downloaded the files from the Tal Shiar, Savalor said, “The act of a renegade. Subcommander Lar was a malcontent who spoke out against the Senate after a recent session. The Tal Shiar has evidence that he spoke often in favor of going to war with your empire, feeling that we should have finished the job that we started at Narendra III and Khitomer, and that Klingons are filthy savages who don’t deserve to be a power in the quadrant.”
Another councillor, Kurn, spoke. “Your Tal Shiar punishes sedition with death, Ambassador, yet you gave this Lar a ship. Why?”
Savalor answered the question, but continued to address Gowron. To do otherwise would show disrespect to the chancellor. “He already had the ship. And his remarks were primarily directed against your empire.” He allowed himself a small smile. “Forgive me, but invective directed against Klingons is not a crime in the Romulan Empire-any more than the curses you all direct at Romulans are prosecuted here.”
Gowron actually smiled back at that. “True.” The smile fell.