That can’t happen, regardless of the cost.

“So,” he said after a moment, “if it wasn’t the Klingons and it wasn’t us, who the hell was it?”

T’Prynn shook her head. “We do not yet know, sir. As has already been indicated, the weapons employed were of a type unknown either to the Tholians or to us. I have run an extensive search of Starfleet’s weapons identification banks and found nothing resembling the energy traces detected by the Tholian sensors.”

Turning his attention once more to the viewscreen, Reyes folded his arms across his chest and said nothing as he rubbed his chin with his right hand. He was surprised to note the presence of beard stubble along his neck and jaw line. What the hell time was it, anyway? How long had he been on duty today?

Maybe that’s why you’re so damned tired.

Ignoring the question, he instead concentrated on the chart. A two-dimensional representation of this area of the Alpha Quadrant, the display outlined the gap of space sandwiched between Tholian and Klingon territory. The Federation border was to his left, while nothing on the right rimward side of the image was labeled, signifying the area as unexplored.

Had someone from that section of uncharted space come calling for their own purposes? Perhaps the explanation was even simpler, with a species indigenous to the Taurus Reach acting out against what they perceived as aggressive action. If that were the case, would such people make distinctions between Klingon, Tholian, or Starfleet ships? Were Federation colonists in danger from a known enemy, or instead a foe that had yet to make itself known?

Considering what had happened to Captain Zhao and the others on Erilon, Reyes knew these were not unreasonable questions. Every piece of new information regarding the Taurus Reach begged another question: If a new player is moving into the neighborhood, is it in any way connected with the meta-genome? If so, how might that affect the tenuous political situation already permeating the region?

We’ll be in the front row of the biggest conflict we’ve seen in more than a century.

“What are the Tholians planning?” Reyes asked, his attention remaining focused on the viewscreen. “So far, the attacks—if that’s what you want to call them—that have been carried out on Klingon ships don’t seem to amount to a whole hell of a lot. Why aren’t they attacking in force? They didn’t seem to have a problem going after the Bombay,so what’s stopping them now?”

“Lack of resources, I suspect,” Jetanien replied, moving across the office to stand next to Reyes. “So far, Tholian attacks on Klingon vessels have been scattered, and they’ve been forced to employ fewer vessels than they’re accustomed to using. As a result, their tactics have been largely ineffective and they’ve been forced to retreat. Likewise, the Klingons lack the ships, personnel, and matériel to truly escalate matters on their own, though I suspect that is a temporary handicap that both sides will remedy in short order, provided the situation is allowed to continue along its present path.”

Cocking his head in the Chelon’s direction, Reyes eyed his friend warily. “Do they teach you to talk like that in ambassador school?”

“Absolutely,” Jetanien answered without hesitation. “It’s a required course of study, you know.”

Reyes shrugged as he turned to move back behind his desk. “I can see how it comes in handy when you’re negotiating,” he said as he lowered himself into his seat. “You just bore everyone to the point they’ll do anything just to make you shut up.”

Bowing formally, the ambassador held his rather large right manus to his chest. “Yet another veil pulled back from the shroud that protects the grand secrets of diplomacy.”

“Gentlemen,” T’Prynn said tersely, as Reyes noted that despite her typical measure of self-control the intelligence officer was becoming perturbed at the casual banter. “If I may point out, Ambassador Jetanien made a valid observation regarding the likely heightening of tensions between the Tholians and Klingons. At least, it was valid at the time he first offered it. Since then, it is possible that circumstances may already have worsened past the point of no return.”

Despite himself, and the personal and professional stresses he had shouldered during the past month, Reyes chuckled at the Vulcan’s perfectly delivered, straight-faced observation.

Remind me never to play poker with her.

“Don’t tell me,” he said as he regarded the commander, “you’ve got a plan to make this all go away.” In the short time since she had been serving aboard Vanguard, T’Prynn had demonstrated an uncanny knack for resolving or disarming volatile issues with the easy, calm assuredness of a seasoned professional.

Her right eyebrow rising in a distinct arch, T’Prynn’s posture seemed to adopt an even more pronounced stiffness than she already had been demonstrating. “While I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, Commodore, I feel that the ambassador is perhaps better qualified to address this situation.”

“Humility? That’s a first for me,” Reyes said. He could not readily recall T’Prynn, or any Vulcan for that matter, ever admitting that they were incapable of carrying out a task, whatever it might be.

It was especially true in T’Prynn’s case. Following the Bombay’s destruction, it had been her actions which had helped prevent word of that unspeakable tragedy at Tholian hands from snowballing into a full-blown interstellar incident. Though her methods had proven to be unorthodox, unethical, and even illegal, they had fostered the results Reyes needed at the time and thereby alleviated—for a while, at least—the danger of pitting the Federation into a war with the Tholians. While he could not argue with the outcome of T’Prynn’s various schemes—the complete details of which she had yet to divulge—Reyes had lain awake on many nights afterward contemplating the morality of activities he had sanctioned, if only by virtue of his acceptance after the fact of what they had accomplished.

Had the ends justified the means?

Pushing away the thoughts while knowing they would revisit him in due time, Reyes turned to Jetanien. “Okay, what’ve you got up yoursleeve?”

“It seems the most prudent course of action would be to bring our resident Klingon and Tholian delegations together for a summit of sorts,” the ambassador replied. “Perhaps by working together here, we can hammer out some form of accord that’s agreeable to all parties.”

The very notion of the Klingons, Tholians, and Jetanien all corralled into the same room for any length of time sent a fresh stab of pain to Reyes’s temples. “Why don’t I save us some time,” he said, “and just activate the station’s self-destruct protocols?”

Though Vanguard currently played host to diplomatic envoys from the Federation as well as the Klingon Empire and the Tholian Assembly—a measure seen as a judicious forethought at the time of its institution—Reyes himself had questioned the prudence of the idea. Tholians of any professional stripe could be counted upon to be reserved and paranoid in all their dealings with those not of their own race, and in that regard could be somewhat predictable. Klingon politicians, on the other hand, could be annoyingly fastidious in how they chose to comport themselves, switching indiscriminately between slavish devotion to their warrior caste’s honor code and the more nuanced, duplicitous nature that seemed to characterize their own diplomatic corps.

Or any politician, for that matter.

Despite his misgivings, Reyes was forced to admit that having representatives from the other governments had to be of some benefit with regard to the current situation. What he wondered though was whether Jetanien, even with his impressive record of diplomatic achievements, was up to confronting the formidable task of bringing the Tholians and Klingons to the same negotiating table.