What's Past_ The Future Begins (Book 2) - Michael Schuster [23]
Blast it. It was no use thinking about what he should have done; only people afraid to actually try to undo the damage they caused did that, often while downing one drink after another.
And I’m no alcoholic, so I won’t do that.
With newfound enthusiasm, Scotty searched the databases for any bits of information about Kropasar. It took several hours to compile it all, but after a time, he had collected enough data to form a picture in his mind.
It was not a pleasant picture.
Apparently the government had lost credibility with the public following the rejection of the planet’s bid for Federation membership—a rejection that almost immediately followed the Breen cruiser’s being purloined. After all, there was no need to be nice to the aliens if the Federation had what it wanted out of them. The Consensus Party had lost its majority in the Witenagemot; High Cyning Forecic lost her position as its head.
But Thane Iamor and his Agreement Party had been unable to rise into the gap. According to the public record, a dispute over some action of Iamor’s—Scotty had a good idea what action that was—had split the party asunder, meaning no one was able to achieve the majority in the Witenagemot necessary to create a functioning government. Unfortunately, one of the planet’s many provincial cynings had taken advantage of the lull in authority to revive a longstanding grudge with another cyning, weapons had been fired, and any chance of a unified Kropasar reemerging had died in the ensuing chaos.
He couldn’t have imagined it if he had tried. He had known betraying the Kropaslin by stealing their cruiser and rejecting their bid for Federation membership would have had to have some effect on them, but this? According to reports, the multitronic computer so important to the continued functioning of several government services had been one of the first fatalities of the provincial cynings’ squabbling. With that computer gone, vital government secrets relating to the production of bioneural circuitry had been lost, and without that vital export, the entire planet’s economy was plunged into ruin.
Things only got worse from there.
This was bad. This was really bad. And it was partially his own fault—though not his alone. Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev shared the responsibility for these developments.
Which was why the next thing he did was contact her.
“Admiral Nechayev is currently not in her office.”
Blast and double-blast! Was nobody willing to go to work today? First McCoy, now Nechayev. He’d thought that a call by a living Starfleet “legend” like himself would cause Starfleet Command to immediately establish a connection. Instead, he was given the usual evasive gibberish about Nechayev being incredibly busy and thus unavailable.
“Well. That’s too bad,” Scotty said, restraining himself from telling the admiral’s Andorian secretary what he really felt. “Can I leave her a message? It’s rather urgent, I’m afraid, and I’d like to hear her take on it.”
“Of course you can leave her a message, Mr. Scott. I’ll make sure that she sees it,” the secretary said, her antennae probing the air as she spoke.
“Thank you. I’d like to record and encrypt it, so if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to you in a few moments.”
“Of course, Mr. Scott. The admiral will contact you later. Have a nice day.”
With that, the connection was cut, and Scotty found himself staring at an empty computer screen, barely containing his anger. Was Nechayev really not in her office? He knew from experience that she was not above lying when it suited her needs. After all, she’d claimed to be sick once already, at a time when it would have been uncomfortable for her to suddenly have him calling her, complaining about the orders she’d given him. Instead, she’d claimed to be ill, a ruse that should