Hacker Chronicles 2/HACKER2.BIN/532.CHAP#18.TXT

Text File | 1993-03-01 | 15KB | 370 lines

                              ***    EIGHTEEN    ***



            Earth: UFP Headquarters, Supreme Assembly Hall.
            Stardate: 5857.4

            Ambassadors from a multitude of worlds were present in the
       largest room of the stadium sized building. Alien races, both rare
       and familiar, filled their delegated seats of Federation member
       representation. They waited in silence as the President of the
       Assembly entered the stage and walked purposefully to his podium.
       The expression on his face betrayed the gravity of the
       circumstances which the Federation was about to face. His eyes
       looked heavy, and all knew that with the intense effort in
       preparation for this meeting, sleeplessness was one thing they all
       had in common. The President of the Assembly came to a stop behind
       the dais with the presidential emblem on it. He faced his audience
       with grace, as if addressing old friends.

            "Welcome, all races of the Federation," greeted the President,
       "to this, the most critical hour of our time. We have been forced
       into a position which could bring either galactic peace or
       unparalleled chaos to all worlds represented here."

            He looked upon the multitude of faces, seeing old friends and
       acquaintances, beings to whom his respect had been given and some
       of whom his respect had been strained.  Sarek of Vulcan was seated
       in the front row. It gave great comfort to the President, seeing
       his friend, knowing the Ambassador would promote stability in all
       decision making.

            "Unfortunately, there is not much time for a formal
       deliberation of all factors concerned in this matter.  Neither is
       there time to determine what consequences our decision here today
       will result in. The future ramifications of this day cannot be
       foretold, and I find myself feeling that we are caught between the
       hammer and the anvil, by our own directives."

            "Though I am aware of the danger of hasty judgements, I do not
       believe that we have the ability to hold off this vote of
       admittance to the Federation. We must bear that in mind as the
       Royal Emperor of the Klingon Realm speaks. I therefore admonish you
       all, hear his words, remember who he is and what he represents.
       Weigh everything you know about him with all he says and decide
       within yourselves the answer to the question; do we allow the
       Klingon people admittance into the Federation?  Yes or no?"

            A bright blue light on the podium flashed, indicating that
       the Emperor was preparing to transport. "This is perhaps the most
       important vote that will ever be held in this Assembly.  I do not
       have any advice to offer as to the direction that your vote should
       go, I merely ask you this; We desire peace for all worlds, with
       all worlds, but what price are we willing to pay for it?  We hold
       friendship with all civilized races in the highest esteem, but are
       there races that, by their own actions, demonstrate that they are

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       not yet worthy of our trust?" He looked out over the silent crowd.
       They respected the man who spoke these historic words. The
       President was certain that they would do what was not merely in
       their various world's best interest, but equitable to all.

            The President pressed the yellow button next to the flashing
       blue button on his podium's console. "It is now my honor to
       introduce and also greet for the first time in history, the Emperor
       of the Klingon Empire." Behind him and to the left, a transporter
       wave began to shimmer and hum. It took the form of the man who all
       believed was the Klingon Emperor. With him were Admiral Sorr and
       his Imperial Guard.  "I present to the Supreme Assembly
       Delegates, His Highness, Emperor Mocdar Jek Tromok, of The
       Klingon Empire."

            The President turned to the Emperor and bowed low, with his
       hand extended towards the dais, indicating to His Highness that he
       may now address the Assembly. After the President erected himself
       he indicated that the Assembly may now stand and salute their guest
       in the fashion of their own home worlds. This caused much clamor as
       the delegates rose to salute, or bow, or spit, or honk, or wheeze
       or whatever salutation was called for from their planet.

            The President saw the Emperor smile upon the crowd indicating
       friendliness, or was it one of mockery?  He was uncertain, never
       having met this Monarch before. His intellect told him Tromok was
       being cordial. His gut feeling, however, was to brace himself for
       attack. In the end he wrote it off as a hormonal reaction to another
       rival male, one which had physical, intellectual and legislative
       power that was at least equal to himself.

            The Emperor offered a Klingon salute to the Assembly, then
       turned towards the President and saluted him as well. He stepped
       over to the podium, flanked on both sides by the Ramjep Avwi and
       trailed by Sorr. The eyes were Tromok's, but it was Garth who
       looked at the vast number of beings facing him. The tribute they
       paid the Emperor was nothing to Garth, nothing but a taste of what
       he would soon receive when it was Lord Garth they saluted. He took
       the last step to the dais and rested his large hands on each side,
       gripping it, and feeling the firmness of it.

            "Fellow beings of the known Galaxy," The Emperor's
       powerful voice echoed throughout the room, "I come to you, not in
       mere friendship, but as one of you who now understands the true
       meaning of what you stand for.  I speak as one who sees the wisdom
       and honor of this galactic brotherhood you collectively have forged
       and now share." He suppressed the smile of the wolf, and expressed
       the false face of an earnest man.

            "We, as a people, are guilty of many things. Things that may
       not be easy to forgive.  But it is in the spirit of forgiveness
       that I address you today. And it is forgiveness that I am compelled
       to request from you and extend to you in return." Garth allowed the
       Emperor to eat his crow before all to see. It was the most
       difficult obstacle he had foreseen himself facing, but he consoled
       himself with the knowledge that all actors must sometime play the

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       fool. It did not alter who he was; it did not lessen him.

            "We have been holding fast to traditions that have spanned
       several millennia.  Traditions that had purposes of self-
       preservation, self-reliance and, unfortunately, self-righteousness.
       But this is all we knew. This was all we were given by our
       progenitors. Pride unparalleled in ourselves, and a dim view at
       best, towards all others," he said, making allowances for the
       Klingons that he both ruled and hated.

            "Peace was nothing but an outdated religion to us and for good
       reason; we had no living example of peace, apart from merciless
       domination to obtain it.  Peace at the point of a sword, not by
       reciprocal accordance." He looked up at the ceiling, and closed his
       eyes, pretending that the admission of his guilt had personally
       effected him.

            He opened his eyes once more and again regarded the audience.
       "We have seen the example of peace in your Federation for some time
       now. We had thought that we could eventually dominate you," he
       stated with fraudulent regret at the notion, "or that through this
       'peace', you would become weak and that the Federation would
       crumble out from beneath you. My father had said as much.  I myself
       have been known to speak the saying... But not so!"

            He spoke more boldly now, and with not just a hint of
       conviction expressed for his listener's benefit. "It is a breach in
       custom that I and my people should come to you this glorious day.
       But if a custom is all that hinders peace, it is a custom far too
       long observed! My fellow beings, I am not my father, who was a
       great and noble man, but a man who would not see farther than the
       bounds of tradition.  The relationship between our peoples must
       change, in the name of peace! And I have seen that it must start
       with us!  I do not petition you to join my Empire. I, as First
       Ruler of all Klinzhai, request to be joined with you. To establish
       a New Age of Peace, a New United Federation of Planets!"

            Most of the crowd was astounded at what they saw and heard.
       They had not thought it possible that the Klingon monarch could
       even speak these words, and certainly not with such conviction.
       Many were completely beguiled by his apparent sincerity, deeply
       moved by his personal realization of the shortcomings that his
       people's traditional view held.  Most were stirred by his vision of
       joining, of uniting the galaxy as one brotherhood under the flag of
       the Federation.  Sarek of Vulcan, was not one of them.

            Sarek was among a minority of men who could not be swayed by
       lofty words that spoke almost solely to the emotions of men.  On the
       other hand, he could not discount the Emperor's efforts towards
       peace either. He merely would not be swayed into voting for the
       admission of the Klingon Empire based upon one man's speech or by a
       crowd that most probably would. The President was of a similar
       mind.

            "I will not lie to you," The Emperor continued. "We had the
       inclination to declare war on you when we found that you had

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       created a weapon of incredible destructive power. We had first
       thought that you were testing it on an outpost bordering the
       Federation Neutral Zone. But when the ship crossed over and we
       encountered it, it became apparent that this was a rogue ship with
       intentions of its own. We disposed of this ship, but not without
       casualties of our own." Garth was pridefully, masterfully
       maneuvering his audience into believing that the Federation should
       be indebted to the Empire, not only for destroying an enemy to both
       governments and paying for it in Klingon blood, but for giving the
       Federation the benefit of the doubt, assuming, that the Federation
       was innocent of the aggression, while allowing them to feel the
       guilt within themselves for their suspicion of the Empire.

            "I do not believe that I am able to demonstrate the sincerity
       of my words in any greater fashion than to offer to you the people
       of my Empire as members of the Federation.  It is my hope that
       you are in agreement to this, but if you are not... we shall keep
       to ourselves, and not continue to be a burden to you any further
       in galactic matters.  My Empire will expand!  But if it is not
       hand-in-hand with you, it will be away from you, and certainly
       either away from, or against the Romulan Empire!  I will await your
       decision from my ship.  I thank you!"

            A cheer arose from all corners of the auditorium, swelling to
       nearly deafening levels. The Emperor turned to a somewhat
       bewildered President, and extended his large hand in a gesture of
       friendship.

            The President took his hand in his and shook it, feeling the
       strength of it and hearing the cheers become even louder.  The
       President cocked his head, ever so slightly. He looked into the
       eyes of the Klingon and saw something disturbing.  He was not sure
       what he saw that moment, but it worried him.  Then his attention
       was drawn away from the Emperor to the Assembly delegates.  He was
       able to hear, deep within the cheering masses, many angry cries of
       dissension.  'Regardless of the direction that the decision made
       today takes, the vote may split the Federation,' he thought to
       himself as he watched the Emperor step over to his beam-down location
       and disappear with the rest of his entourage.

            "Gentle beings," the President said, trying to regain order in
       the great hall, "gentle beings!" He put both hands in the air in
       order to quell the commotion. He walked over to the podium, where
       he could be more easily seen and heard. "We must not let the
       emotion of the moment force us to rush headlong into a vote
       without careful consideration.  The Emperor's speech is now being
       sent to each delegate's terminal, for your further review.  In
       addition, all preliminary information and data which should be taken
       into account is included in the transmission. Please review this
       documentation carefully over the next two hours.  Deliberation will
       commence at 1300 hours.  The vote will be held at 1200 hours two
       days hence, after all members have taken advantage of their 10
       minute floor time.  Until then, I thank you."

            The President's confidence in the delegates was greatly shaken
       by their uproarious outburst of a moment ago.  Sensibility seemed

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       to be driven from them by the Emperor's speech, coupled with the
       tremendous fear of invasion from the Romulan Empire, fear that
       could cause much of the Federation members to gladly make a bargain
       with the Devil, completely disregarding the price of such a
       bargain. The President also detected the evidence of a 'willing
       blindness' to rationale as the Emperor offered them a hope, and an
       answer, to their fears of war.  The confusion of the past few days
       was maddening.  It was as if a dark tide was moving the Federation
       purposefully towards the center of a whirlpool, to be drawn down
       into an abyss.















































                                       PAGE 128






















                          Star Trek: "BEFORE DESTRUCTION!"


                             A NOVEL BY MICHAEL D. ROSSI
















               *Star Trek is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures
                            Copyright 1991, by Michael Rossi