Smiling, the Assembly Chair took Vaughn by the elbows. “I believe we would be open to such a proposal.”
“Hmmm. I have some suggestions, but perhaps you have something in mind?”
M’Yeoh said, “We’ve reviewed this model for a defensive weapon that your Lieutenant Nog designed and found it has merit. But like you, we lack a raw material suitable for construction of the femtobots.”
Hearing mention of his work on the defense system, Nog sidled up close to M’Yeoh. Vaughn had momentary concerns about how the Yrythny government had been privy to Nog’s technological innovations, but then he recalled that a group of engineers from the Avarilhad asked if they could help out. In spite of their rough first contact, the Yrythny engineers had bonded with Nog and his staff.
“Among the trade avenues still open to us, we have a membership in a matter Consortium several sectors away that deals in unique and rare materials,” the Assembly Chair explained.
“Matter Consortium?” Vaughn asked.
“A nexus of free trade situated near a natural particle fountain in this sector. The Consortium harvests the outflows of the particle fountain. The matter emerging from the fountain has undergone intense gravitational pressure and temperature fluctuations. Its molecular and subatomic structure is fundamentally altered by these forces. We believe it will meet your requirements.”
Nog was rapt with attention. Technology that facilitated particle fountain mining, while found in the Federation, such as the one at Tyrus VIIA, was still primarily experimental. Vaughn could see the cogs in his mind spinning furiously as he processed Rashoh’s words. When Nog leaned forward, as if he were preparing to question the Assembly Chair, Vaughn touched his shoulder, wanting him to hold back until he had the complete picture.
“You’re saying we can obtain the structural materials we need from this Consortium?”
Rashoh smiled but shook his head. “Unfortunately, trading is closed to nonmembers. However, as members ourselves, we would be willing to act on your behalf. You could travel on Avaril,with your ship, allowing your crew time to work on your repairs during the journey. Our long range probes have recently verified a route to the Consortium that is still free of web weapons.”
“A generous offer,” Vaughn said, relieved that the game was nearing an end. “But what could we possibly offer you in return?”
“Allow your first officer, Lieutenant Dax, to stay behind and mediate talks between the Houseborn and the Wanderers.”
And your first instinct was right, Elias. The situation with Ezri is the real problem here.He exhaled deeply, considered the group standing before him and saw in their faces a resolute determination to do whatever it took to bring their will to pass.
“Agreed,” Vaughn said. “Threats weren’t necessary, Assembly Chair, Minister M’Yeoh, Vice Chair Jeshoh. Reasonable people negotiate and I am nothing if not reasonable. Your soldiers will now leave and my engineers will go to work.” He smiled coldly at his blackmailers.
The Yrythny delegation didn’t bother to hide their relief at Vaughn’s answer. Why hadn’t they just asked?In his more than eighty years in Starfleet, whether it was dropping into a war zone or playing cat-and-mouse games with the Tal Shiar, Vaughn had learned that desperation drives otherwise sane people to do crazy things. The time for asking whether Dax should do this is probably past—the question now is whether Daxcan do this. For all our sakes, I hope her plucky determination—and the cumulative wisdom of all her lives—will be enough.
Shar waited impatiently as the troop transport in which he rode crept slowly through the narrow needle, toward the massive docking platform. Through the windows, he could see Luthia’s winking lights diminishing as he inched closer to the Avaril.Would that he could have joined the others an hour ago when the crew checked out of the guest quarters! But he—along with Candlewood, Juarez, and McCallum—was remaining behind to assist Lieutenant Dax. Loading the shuttlecraft Saganwith the away team’s supplies and piloting the ship to a bay closer to their guest quarters had left him little time for a pressing personal errand. He still hoped he had enough time to pull Commander Vaughn aside to make a private request. Shar rarely made such requests; he hoped Vaughn understood that.
If Commander Vaughn followed the pattern established thus far, Defiantwould send its official weekly report to Deep Space 9 while at the Consortium. “Letters” from the crew to their friends and families were transmitted on an “as time and equipment permitted” basis. At present, both were in short supply, but he didn’t wish to let another week pass. When the next report was transmitted to Colonel Kira, Shar hoped to include a message to his bondmates: not only because they expected one, but because he deeply regretted the last one he had sent.
His first letter home had been stilted. Still smarting from the sting of his zhavey’s ploy, he’d been at a loss as to what to say. She had staged her ambush—bringing his bondmates to the station all the way from Andor to persuade him not to join the Defiant’s mission—because she loved him and believed his choices would lead him to unhappiness. But that didn’t lessen his frustration with her tactics. There was a fine line between “force” and “guilt” to Shar’s way of thinking. Especially since she hadsucceeded in making him feel guilty. He missed the days when their relationship was less adversarial.
All these feelings had filled Shar when he’d recorded his first message to his zhavey.He finally settled on a matter-of-fact recitation of his experiences coupled with brief well wishes and words of affection. Had he sent what he had recorded on the first pass, Shar expected that Charivretha might have come chasing through the wormhole after him. Saying the words, however, had been enough to make him feel better, so he erased the inflammatory accusations in favor of his proper letter. He might send his first draft later on, when the Defiantwas too far away to catch…
Zhavey:
I am sorry to have disappointed you. Please believe me when I say that I would not have chosen as I did if I didn’t believe that I was doing what was best for all concerned. Has not your whole life been about the greater good of Andor? Is it too hard to understand that I’ve become what I am by learning from your example?
Even more difficult was the letter to his bondmates. All his words were justwords. Empty. Hollow. Failing utterly to convey the heartache he felt, or to acknowledge the heartache he knew he’d caused them. Why were pain and love coupled so tightly together?
Dearest Thriss, Anichent, Dizhei—I love and miss you all, but this mission must come before my return to Andor for theshelthreth. I hope that someday you understand my choices and forgive me. While it might seem I’m being selfish, I’m doing this for you, for all of our people. Our people’s present course merely postpones the inevitable—we must explore new possibilities if we are to defy our fate. And if a few aren’t willing to make sacrifices for the many…Unfortunately, because you are matched to me, you are among the few. You didn’t choose this for yourselves and for that, I’m sorry.
In the early weeks of the mission, Shar had watched Vaughn and his daughter, Ensign Tenmei, tentatively feel their way back to reconciliation after years of estrangement due to her belief that Vaughn had put his duty to Starfleet before his love of her mother. Shar wondered if someday he would have to make a similar reconciliation with his bondmates.