Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [25]
“It’s a beautiful setting here. These are all Martian plants, aren’t they?”
“Yes, sir,” Hawk said. He paused, then added, “My father bred several of these plants.”
“Ah, yes. The famed Rhyst Hawk.” Tabor watched Hawk closely, gauging the slight look of surprise in his eyes. “I know of him. I was involved for a few years with a botanist from Telfas Prime. She used to go on and on about her love of your father’s work. That would make you the son of Camille Hawk as well then? I’ve read some of her books. Quite… vivacious.”
“Yes, sir. Dad says she’s to blame for my yen for adventure.”
“Oh, you don’t need to call me ‘sir,’” Tabor said, holding up his hand as if to push the honorific aside. “I’m Aubin. And if it’s all right, I’ll call you Sean.”
Hawk grinned. Tabor pushed slightly into his mind, seeing that he was unused to the informality, especially from someone older and more traveled. Tabor didn’t give him time to ponder his friendliness, but pressed on. “So, is that ‘yen for adventure’ why you joined Starfleet?”
“I guess so, yes. When you’ve grown up reading about warriors and spies and pirates, I guess a typical job behind a desk seems… I don’t know, boring. I had to escape the Martian suburbs somehow, and Starfleet seemed like a good way out. And it has been interesting. I’ve met scores of people from different civilizations and cultures. There are so many things out there beyond what we know about back home.” Tabor raised his eyebrow slightly, as if shocked, and Hawk looked sheepish for a moment. “Oh, I hope I didn’t offend you. I don’t mean to imply that being an ambassador would be-“
“It’s quite all right, young man. But I guarantee you that for every day I’ve spent behind a desk or in chambers somewhere mediating a treaty, I’ve also had more than my share of… adventures. Not all missions of peace end with olive branches, as your own captain can probably tell you. These upcoming talks on Chiaros IV could be quite difficult.”
“What do you mean?” Hawk asked. Tabor knew that he hadn’t been told much about the mission.
“Chiaros is beset by two factions fighting against each other in a civil war. One of the groups is led by the elected First Protector, but the opposing group feels that her rule is corrupt. Each side is claiming atrocities have been committed against them, and neither seems willing to stand down. They are a warrior race, and reportedly as tough and unyielding as Klingons. How true are either of their grievances? Which side, if any, is in the right? I don’t yet know.
“That’s part of the reason I became a diplomat,” Tabor said with a friendly grin. “Learning about cultures such as the Chiarosans’ fascinates me, but in practicing diplomacy, I have to see those cultures from many different sides. I must foresee all the ways in which any one act can be interpreted, positively or negatively. I have yet to find a situation in which everything is black-and-white and crystal clear. Life is all about color, about variations, not about absolutes.”
Tabor could read Hawk’s mind, hearing his own words as they were processed through his memory. It created an odd echo effect. He’s right, Tabor heard Hawk think, just before the young man said out loud, “I’m learning that. Watching Captain Picard and Commander Riker on the bridge has been an invaluable education for me.”
Although Tabor had initially planned to cite a few of Picard’s and Riker’s more unorthodox decisions-to demonstrate that even high-ranking officers don’t always follow approved procedures-he could see in Hawk’s mind that the young man idolized his superiors. The ambassador altered his strategy slightly, saving those examples for later. “They certainly are among the best, even if Starfleet doesn’t always recognize it. But we both know that Starfleet makes mistakes every now and then, don’t we?” He paused for a moment, his telepathic power spearing into Hawk’s memories, seeing exactly which memories this evoked. Grasping them, he spoke again. “After all, look at all the mistakes that have been made in strategizing the battles in the demilitarized