Lugok glared at the Chelon, his eyes seething. “I challenge the Tholians to offer evidence to the contrary,” he said, the words hissed from between gritted teeth.
Occupying the position at the table opposite the Klingon diplomat, Ambassador Sesrene reached out with silk-sheathed appendages toward both of his attachés, his gesture mirrored by his companions in what Jetanien knew was the precursor to the activation of their habitual touch-telepathy link.
As he witnessed the communing, Jetanien once more wished for a better understanding of the Tholians not merely as politicians but as individuals. Not even the Federation’s leading xenobiologists and sociologists could lay claim to any real insight into the acutely secretive race, their very nature isolating them from introspection by other species. He had known upon taking the assignment to Starbase 47 that doing so would provide him with an unequaled opportunity to study what he considered to be one of the most fascinating societies he ever had encountered.
If I can’t find a Tholian expert, I’ll simply become one myself.Jetanien was certain that someone somewhere would find such a distinction useful. After that, who knew where such unparalleled knowledge and expertise might lead?
Sesrene folded his arms back against his body, turning his oversized head until Jetanien could make out the yellow slits cut into the helmet of the Tholian’s envirosuit.
“ We do not have any offensive weapon such as the Klingon describes. It isthey who destroyed the planet, likely as an example to other worlds that do not bow down before them. If left unchecked, the Klingons will continue to unleash havoc upon all who oppose them. Their reign of violence and terror must be halted immediately.”
“Ambassador,” Jetanien began as he looked at the Tholian.
Rising from his seat, Lugok stabbed a finger in Sesrene’s direction. “The empire has made no moves against any world inhabited by your kind, and yet your vessels attack ours without provocation. It is obvious you seek to do battle.”
“ We have acted only in self-defense,”Sesrene replied. “ We are well aware of the Klingon Empire’s thirst for power and conquest. It will not be tolerated. Go back from whence you came and war can be avoided.”
Both hands placed flat atop the conference table, his lips pulling back to reveal uneven rows of sharpened teeth, Lugok glowered at the Tholian diplomat. “Are you claiming the Gonmog Sector as your own? By what right do you assert that authority?”
“Fellow sentients,” Jetanien called out, acutely aware that he was in danger of losing control of the meeting, “this is hardly the sort of constructive dialogue which will lead us to mutual understanding of the issues and how they affect us all. Might I…”
“He is like the rest of his kind,” Kulor said, pointing at Sesrene. “Liars, all of them. The galaxy would do well to see itself rid of their…infestation.”
Before Jetanien could react, Karumé rose from her seat at the ambassador’s left hand and strode with undeniable purpose toward the Klingon attaché. Kulor looked up and offered a wolfish grin, but Karumé ignored it, instead stepping forward until she was able to deliver a vicious punch to his face that almost made Jetanien flinch.
“Still your profane tongue, tu’HomIraH,”she growled even as Kulor’s right hand moved toward the d’k tahgknife at his side. The action did not go unnoticed, as Sesrene’s attachés each reacted by maneuvering back from the conference table, their rear legs tapping in frenzied rhythms loud enough to be heard even on the room’s thick carpeting.
“That is enough!”
The words exploded from Jetanien’s mouth, accompanied by the slamming of his hand against the top of the conference table. Everyone in the room fell silent, all eyes now locked once more upon him, each person now regarding him with an expression of unqualified shock.
Of those surprised by the outburst, none were more so than Jetanien himself.
“This bickering is pointless,” he said, the words delivered in a measured cadence designed to convey that he would tolerate no interruptions. “It is obvious that we have much work ahead of us if we are to forge any sort of understanding here. Lies, half-truths, exaggerations, and hyperbole serve only to undermine our efforts, and they cannot be tolerated.”
Turning to face the Chelon, Kulor began, “You accuse us…”
“I accuse no one,” Jetanien said, cutting off what he sensed was another imminent diatribe. “The simple facts are enough to illustrate the issues we face. Even while your governments send envoys here to meet in peace, acts of aggression continue in the Taurus Reach. Tholians attack Klingons, Klingons attack Tholians, and Tholians attack the Federation.” As he uttered those last words, his gaze fell upon Ambassador Sesrene. He knew a reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the U.S.S. Bombaywas necessary, but still he drew satisfaction from seeing the Tholian diplomat shift his stance as if discomfited by the remarks.
Yes,he decided, now is the time to act.
With a confidence he had not felt even at the start of the proceedings, Jetanien rose from his glenget. “The only way we will succeed,” he continued, beginning to pace toward the front of the room, “is if we all commit ourselves to the notion that there are other, better alternatives than aggression to solve these issues. We must resist the temptation to fall back upon the timeworn distraction of partisan brinksmanship.” As he reached the doors leading from the conference room, he turned once more to face the delegation. “In order to serve that end, I propose we remove those things which lend themselves to such diversion.”
With that, he turned to the door and pressed a control on the wall-mounted keypad. The doors slid aside to reveal the pair of security guards still standing at their assigned posts.
“Lieutenant Beyer,” Jetanien said to the female officer, “kindly step in.” To the rest of his assemblage, he leveled a stern gaze. “Mr. Sovik, Ms. Karumé, please resume your normal duties. I will call on you if I have need of your assistance.”
Sovik’s immediate reaction was to raise his right eyebrow. “I beg your pardon, Your Excellency?”
“You heard me, Mr. Sovik. I have the situation well in hand. Surely there are other matters requiring your attention?”
Karumé could only stare at him in openmouthed shock for several seconds. Then, with everyone facing Jetanien and thus unable to see her expression, she offered him a knowing smile. “As you wish.”
Excellent,the Chelon thought. She understands. Though Sovik’s expression was of course as implacable as ever, Jetanien imagined he saw comprehension in the Vulcan’s eyes, as well.
“As for the Klingon and Tholian delegations,” he continued, “with the exception of Ambassadors Lugok and Sesrene, the rest of you may return to your respective embassies. Lieutenant Beyer and her staff will provide escort, to ensure you encounter no trouble along the way.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Kulor asked.
Jetanien shrugged. “I should think my meaning is plain. Get out.” He nodded to Beyer. “Lieutenant, if you please.”
The process of removing the ambassadors’ envoys from the room took nearly a full minute, during which both Kulor and the Tholians made every effort to protest short of physically resisting overtures from the Starfleet security officers to direct them from the meeting chambers. As the doors slid closed behind Beyer, Jetanien turned once more to the keypad and tapped out a sequence.
“Computer, this is Ambassador Jetanien. On voice command, you will engage security protocols for this room until further notice. No one is to be allowed access or exit without my personal authorization. Voice command: Initiate security protocol.”