Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [126]
“Let’s hope that’s just Klingons being Klingons,” Vale said in a near-whisper. “And not the start of a very long and nasty war.”
Donatra suddenly resumed looking straight ahead into her visual pickup. “Excuse me, Praetor, but I do not recall the Romulan military announcing its formal support of your praetorship as yet.”
“Commander Donatra, I could order you executed,” Tal’Aura said, almost growling. “This is insubordination.”
Donatra smiled. “It would be. If I were your subordinate.”
Will released Troi’s hand and stood before his command chair. His face was almost as emotionless as a Vulcan’s as he addressed the Reman whose visage still scowled down from the upper left corner of the main viewer.
“Colonel Xiomek, I would be honored if you would inform the praetor and the proconsul of the bargain you have just made.”
Xiomek nodded, then replied in low, sepulchral tones. “I, Colonel Xiomek, commander of the Reman Irregulars’ Kepeszuk Battalion, speak on behalf of the entire Reman people. The planet Remus has just accepted temporary protectorate status.”
The notion of a Federation protectorate inside Romulan space stunned Troi momentarily. But she did her best not to show her intense surprise, taking a cue from an admirably poker-faced Vale.
Tal’Aura jabbed a finger toward whatever apparatus was sending her image to Titan. “You have gone entirely too far, Riker! The Federation Council could not have authorized you to establish a protectorate within Romulan territory—even a temporary one.”
“Besides, Captain,” said Tomalak, “we overheard your initial offer of protectorate status. Xiomek rejected it out of hand.”
Will held up a hand in a placating gesture, his expression mild and reasonable. “You’re absolutely right about that, Praetor, Proconsul. I assure you both, the Federation has no intention of establishing a protectorate here.”
“And even if we wanted to do that,” Troi said, “we couldn’t—not without violating both the Armistice of 2160 and the Treaty of Algeron.”
“You are contradicting yourselves,” said Tomalak, continuing to fulminate. And Troi clearly sensed that Will was greatly enjoying the proconsul’s discomfiture. “Is it too much to ask that you start making sense ?”
“Fair enough, Proconsul.” Will turned momentarily toward Tuvok. “Patch in General Khegh, please.”
A moment later, Khegh’s grinning, snaggletoothed visage appeared on the lower left quadrant of the viewscreen. “Perhaps Captain Riker was not making himself plain, Praetor Tal’Aura, Proconsul Tomalak, Commander Donatra. Humans use many words when few would serve far better. It seems to be an all-too-common flaw among Federation nationals.”
Tal’Aura sniffed. “You seem rather discursive yourself, for a Klingon,” voicing the very observation that had just occurred to Troi.
“A fault no doubt acquired during many years spent away from Qo’noS, serving in the Klingon Diplomatic Corps.”
“A Klingon diplomat,” Tomalak said. “Now there’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one,” Troi realized only now that the proconsul and the Klingon officer had encountered one another before; from the mutual antipathy she sensed, they had almost certainly faced off in battle, either literally or across a negotiating table.
“No more so than ‘Romulan nobility,’ ” Khegh replied, with a smoothness that might have impressed a Vorta.
Troi understood only then that she had badly underestimated Khegh. As, no doubt, had everyone else present. Except maybe for Will. Clearly, he wasn’t the only player here who liked to keep his cards very close to his vest—until the time to show his hand inevitably arrived.
“Enough,” Tal’Aura said. “Come to the point, Khegh, if you please.” It was clear that Tal’Aura also already knew Khegh, and that she bore no more love for him than did Tomalak.
“Very well,” said Khegh. “Remus is now a protectorate of the Klingon Empire, at the request of Xiomek, the lawful representative of the Reman people. On a purely temporary basis, of course, and with only a nominal presence of Klingon Defense Force personnel and