Chapter Four – Unexpected news

Karena Basiri stared at the blinking prompt on her computer screen. Should she really access the Valkyrie's database or not? She might have more contact with Starfleet officers if their talks with minister Tretyak went on for some time, but if Lieutenant Foster was any indication, learning more about them could turn out to be... disturbing. How these people had ever managed to hold a large interstellar Federation together escaped the Talkhan. On the other hand, many in Starfleet were humans and Earth was the origin of the people who had settled Talkha and turned it into the prosperous and orderly world it was. Perhaps there was some common ground hidden in those files, something that explained how the Federation could operate if everyone had to struggle so hard to find their place in life.

When she accessed the Valkyrie's records Karena almost regretted her choice to learn more about the Federation. There were so many files that it would take a lifetime to read even half of them. It took her a moment to find some general data on the Federation and after only a cursory glance she closed the file again. Half of it was statistical data, the other half short summaries of the different member worlds and their cultures. That wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know. Neither would the information on government structures be much help. That all dealt with how things worked, but not why they worked.

Perhaps Foster was the exception, not the rule. 'Anything here on other people? What's this, public information on the Valkyrie's senior officers? That might be a good start.'

Ten minutes later Karena hastened to terminate the connection. It was too much to take. How could someone like Tarin Veal be in command of any starship?

Her parents had both been scientists and Veal had been raised by them from an early age. That at least sounded familiar, but then the Centauran had joined Starfleet. Karena Basiri was thrown off at first, until she read more and found out that Veal had become a scientist after all. The way Starfleet had it's own scientists seemed strange, but with the size of Starfleet it was perhaps necessary to grant researchers a military rank to integrate them into this organization. It was most likely just done to establish a smooth flow of information between the military and the science community.

Her next surprise came only a minute later when she found out that Tarin Veal had taught sciences at one of Starfleet's academies. How could a teacher and a researcher be the same person? One taught what was known, while the other worked to discover what was unknown.

It took her a few minutes to wrap her mind around the idea that it could make sense. If someone who made new discoveries taught the same to other people the knowledge transfer would be more immediate. Again the sheer size of the Federation was the best explanation Karena could think of. With such a large territory, new knowledge would be gained every day, so taking the most direct way to provide that knowledge to others was probably a prudent course of action. On the other hand it distracted researchers from their main task and cost them valuable time, but perhaps the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.

So far it looked like Captain Veal had had a strange and bumpy career, but apparently she was the product of a strange alien culture. Nothing of it was her own fault.

Now why in the world would Starfleet turn someone like her into a commanding officer? Basiri perused captain Veal's biography and jumped off her seat, her body trembling, her hands shaking. 'It can't be!'

She had chosen it herself and Starfleet had agreed to it! Veal had turned her back on everything she was and nobody had stopped her. It was too much to take.

First thing in the morning Karena would ask minister Tretyak to exclude her from any dealings he had with Starfleet or the Federation.

*****

"Another round of fruitless talks I take it?" While Tarin's face betrayed little emotion, Alex Westmore was certain what her answer would be. If things had gone well it would show on the captain's face.

"Yes." Tarin Veal took a cup of cocoa from the briefing room replicator before she settled into her seat at the head of the table. "We got nowhere, but at least I was under the impression that minister Tretyak was a little more relaxed today. Apart from that, no progress at all." She sipped her cocoa, then looked from face to face. "Any news?"

Lieutenant O'Shea spoke up first. "I received a few replies to the inquiries I ran by the local traders and the people I know in the Merchant Marine. Everyone agrees that the Talkhans have nothing to gain by their aggressive policy. The worlds they now claim have no resources to speak of and local traffic has already started to slow down. Soon the Talkhans will stop making any profit on their privateering operations."

"Any idea how much this drop-off in trade will hurt Talkha's neighbors?"

"I would say it will hurt them some, but none of them depends on interstellar trade for their survival. In the short run they'll encounter some minor problems, but in the long run they should adapt and do just fine."

'And once again all it adds up to is: it makes no sense,' Tarin thought as she nodded at Moira, then turned her attention to Felix Alvarez who had just cleared his throat. "Lieutenant?"

"We kept as close an eye on the privateers as we could without using an active sensor scan. During the night about half of them were on raids, while the other half held position at Talkha B.” Finding out that the privateers used the larger of the two moons as a base had been easy enough, even using passive sensors only. “My theory is that they stick to this pattern unless a major target presents itself that requires the attention of a group of privateers, keeping some around and sending only half of them on raids."

"So we are looking at four or five ships in-system at any time." Captain Veal slowly nodded to herself. Should it become necessary the Valkyrie could deal with the privateers, but they were not alone. "What about the Talkhan army?"

"They use just what our briefings said; small ships, half of them with impulse power only, but all equipped with strong shields and beam weapons. So far we have been able to detect eight of them. Four on patrol around the system perimeter and four near Talkha."

"Wait," Alex Westmore interjected. "Our latest intelligence points to ten ships, not eight."

"Yes. I was about to get to that. Two ships are missing and if our information is correct, two warp-capable ships. As the Talkhan ships are capable of planetary landings they may just be down on their military spaceport, but using only passive scans we can't determine that with any certainty." He turned to Captain Veal. "May I suggest that you try to get a look at that spaceport, should you go down to the surface in the Isis again?"

"Do you think you can do that, Lieutenant Foster?" Tarin asked.

"Get us where we are not supposed to be and make a perfectly good approach look like a sloppy mistake?" The pilot grinned. "Won't be easy, but I'll manage it somehow."

"I am sure you can," Tarin replied with a smile and a wink. Foster was still a long way away from the officer she hoped he could become, but he had adjusted surprisingly well to the responsibilities she had placed on his shoulders in Rishana's absence.

"That leaves you, Commander Westmore. Have you found out anything that sheds some new light on this situation?"

Alex Westmore handed her a padd as he said: "Yes and no. When I restricted my search about secret government discussions to just military matters, half of it made sense. But their government doesn't have to be honest citing these security concerns. Once I included that in my analysis I ended up with a very long list of what may have been discussed in those government sessions."

Tarin called up the index of the padd and just a cursory glance told her how right Westmore was. It would take hours to study his findings in any detail. "All right, if no one has anything to add you are dismissed. Commander Westmore, I'll get back to you as soon as I have read through this list."

When everyone else had left the observation lounge Caleb Foster stopped by the door. "Captain, I know you have a lot to do, but could you spare a few minutes?"

*****

"Yes, of course. What is it, Lieutenant." Tarin made an inviting gesture to one of the chairs and Caleb Foster sat down before he answered the question.

"I did some reading on Talkha last night and I think I got them figured out a little better, but... I want a second opinion, someone to confirm that I have this all worked out."

"Go ahead, please."

"Well, at first I thought these people are just crazy, but then I realized they had their reasons to set up their society like this. With just a few thousand people founding this colony everyone had to pull his weight and for at least two or three generations it must have been pretty much the same. I bet everyone was so busy just surviving that there was little room for an organized school system. Most people probably just picked up their skills and knowledge from their parents and the people around them. Everyone had to fill a role or they could never have survived. I guess after that it just became a self-perpetuating way of life."

Tarin took a sip of cocoa and smiled a little. "I am with you so far. Anything else?"

"Yes, Ma'am. What I discovered is that Talkhan society actually allows for some social mobility. Let's take their military for example. Someone raised by two lieutenants is almost guaranteed to end up in the army, but his rank depends on his achievements, not the rank his parents hold." Lieutenant Foster paused for air before he went on: "And sticking to the same pattern during the first few decades made sense, but once the Talkhans had established themselves here, the needs of their society changed. After a while they couldn’t go on with the same ratio of workers to scientists or whatever. Talkhan society has changed, but I guess associating family history with their own life has stuck with most people." Again he paused and looked Tarin straight in the eye. "Does that sound about right to you?"

"Yes, it does. And you have to take into account that their world is now pretty advanced technology-wise. That helps them stick to the established structures, even when not everyone can find work in the traditional family profession."

Tarin finished her cocoa and carefully placed the cup on the table. “It is not what I would call right concerning any society, but your analysis is spot on.” She toyed with her empty cup for a few seconds, but when she went on she looked Cal Foster straight in the eyes. “I  must admit I am a little surprised, Lieutenant. I never thought you would give so much thought to the Talkhans. I thought all you cared about was flying.”

Caleb Foster exhaled slowly. “Flying is still what I care most about, Ma’am. It’s just that I never had a chance to do something like this... get into such direct contact with an alien society. I mean they are humans all right, but they are so different.” He avoided his CO’s gaze and looked out the window. “And the funny thing is that I am not so different from the Talkhans... No one forced me to become a helmsman, but now it’s what really defines who I am. I can’t imagine being anything else, just like most Talkhans can’t look beyond their own work.”

 “I see.” Caleb shot her a quick glance, but Tarin’s face was all sincerity. “Don’t worry too much about it, Lieutenant. It doesn’t matter if you have it in you to become a diplomat or not. If you want to be more than a good pilot, work towards it and see where it gets you. But if all you really want is being a helmsman there is nothing wrong with that. All that matters is that it is your choice.”

*****

It was two days later that the Isis again hurtled towards Talkha’s atmosphere, carrying Captain Veal to another face-to-face meeting with some high-level politicians. So far she had achieved only one thing and that was nothing at all. She had little hope this meeting would change anything, but at least she would have a chance to talk to the minister of defense for the first time. If Tarin played her hand right, perhaps she would finally make some progress.

Tarin watched Lieutenant Foster lay in a small course correction, or perhaps course deviation was the better word. The Isis drifted off course ever so slightly, until she was on an almost direct approach to the largest Talkhan military installation. While she didn’t consider herself much of a pilot, Tarin Veal knew enough about navigation to realize how deftly Foster execute the maneuver. To every outside observer it had to look like a navigational error, a simple mistake and a small one at best.

At least now they had a chance to find out if the Talkhans had sent two of their ships on a yet unknown mission, or if they had just grounded them for some reason. Too bad that knowing either way wouldn’t help much to solve the puzzle Commander Westmore’s research had turned out to be.

Again Tarin thought about the long list of possibilities he had come up with. That list held some intriguing hints, but nothing conclusive, nothing that explained why the Talkhan government had suddenly decided to expand their territory so much.

Just as the Isis entered Talkha’s atmosphere Tarin Veal looked back, out the rear windows. Both moons were clearly visible before the flames of the atmospheric entry started to lick over the shields and clouded the image in a sheet of fire.

A day ago the Hawk had entered the Talkha system and set down on the larger of the two moons. Since then Tarin hadn’t heard a word from Dar or Rishana, but she wasn’t worried. Unless they had something important to report the away team would not risk contacting the Valkyrie. If their cover had been blown the Talkhans would have reacted in some way, but since the Valkyrie had arrived, not a single Talkhan ship had approached the moons.

Was that just because the Valkyrie was in orbit around Talkha or was there something more to it? The Talkhans had to know that Tarin knew about the privateers, so they had little reason stop their operations. The privateers brought in cargo they had confiscated - she knew it and the Talkhans had to know she knew it. To stop bringing that cargo back to Talkha made no sense, unless they had never done so in the first place and the loot wasn’t intended for Talkha, but that made little sense. Another piece in a staggering puzzle that came without any assembly instructions.

“Captain, Altassa air control is hailing us, ordering us to change our course back to the original flight plan.”

Tarin leaned closer to the helm station and studied the course plot. By now the sensors should have gathered all the information she wanted, but erring on the side of caution wouldn’t hurt. “Keep this course for another ten seconds, then turn back towards Altassa. After that contact Talkhan air control and apologize for your mistake.”

“Apologize? Must I?”

“Yes, Lieutenant, you must. After all, it was your sloppy piloting that got us here in the first place. If anyone is going to apologize for it, it would better be you than me.” She winked at Lieutenant Foster, but most of Tarin’s attention was focused on the sensor data the Isis had collected. Even a cursory glance told her that the spaceport and shipyards were empty. Two of the Talkhan military ships were missing. They were not in the system, they were not at their home base and they were nowhere in sensor range of the Valkyrie.

If they were on Talkha it made little sense to keep them away from the one installation that could service and supply them efficiently. If they were anywhere near the major trade routes of the sector someone would have spotted them. They had to be outside the Talkha system and outside everyone’s sight. Perhaps it was time to rethink again about the neighboring systems that had no apparent value. But not now - Tarin had to concentrate on the upcoming talks with minister Novak. Revealing her hand too soon would do no good and for now Tarin didn’t even know what her hand was, much less the rules of the game the Talkhans were playing.

*****

Karena Basiri looked at the door to Minister Tretyak’s office long after it had closed behind Captain Veal and the Starfleet officer accompanying her. Who was that... ah yes, Commander Westmore, the Valkyrie’s strategic operations officer. The public files she had seen held little information on him, which had surprised her considering how long he had been in Starfleet. On the other hand many things she had learned during the last two days had surprised her a lot more.

Once again Karena asked herself why she had continued to study the Federation and the crew of the Valkyrie after her initial shock at the oddity of these people. Delving deeper into the mysteries of the Federation had confused her, made her shake her head many times in wonder, disgusted her at other times. And yet, that bizarre alien culture held a morbid fascination, not unlike the fascination a new disease might hold for a medical researcher.

Of course there was always the chance that her work would bring her in closer contact with the Starfleet officers, that she would be tasked to organize a guided tour for them, see to their needs should they be invited to stay in Altassa for some time. It would be good to be prepared for that eventuality, at least it was what Karena had tried to convince herself of.

Deep down inside she knew it was not the real reason she had overcome her shock and surprise and continued her studies of the Federation. That pilot, Foster, he had been so convinced that his people’s way of doing things was right, that it was the best way to organize a society. Unlike every other alien visitor Basiri had come in contact with before, Foster had appeared completely sincere. The other aliens she had met through her work at the ministry had been traders or diplomats, but all had wanted to sell something, either goods or ideas. None of them had spoken fair and square about anything and the minister and his staff had returned the favor. It had all been about politics, a dance around a truth neither side wanted the other to know or admit to.

Foster had been different. As far as Karena could tell he had been completely honest with her, his surprise genuine. He believed in his society as much as she believed in hers. Could it be that they were both right about their own worlds, their own cultures, that both could work equally well? It was possible, she had concluded. After all, both societies had been designed under very different circumstances.

When that thought had first hit her she had known the answer almost immediately. Talkha’s society had been designed to allow the fledgling colony to survive. It had not developed, had never been allowed to find its own course. The world she lived in had been designed to serve a purpose, regulated and controlled because there had been no other way. It had worked; the colony had survived and turned into the thriving home of millions.

It was a disconcerting thought. All her life had been designed by someone long dead and she was never given a choice if she wanted to follow that design. Could she dream of her life being something else, something more? Yes, she could dream of it and that dream had turned her whole life into a nightmare.

Karena asked the second assistant to take over for her while she went to see a doctor. The last two days she had not been herself and when someone noticed it she had told them she wasn’t feeling well, that maybe she was coming down with something. Her colleague looked concerned when she told Basiri to get well soon. ‘If only she knew what I might be coming down with, she would be even more concerned,’ Karena thought as she rode the elevator down. She knew where the Valkyrie’s shuttle had landed. With some luck she would find Lieutenant Foster there. Or maybe it wouldn’t be luck, but a curse. It was too early to tell.

*****

She walked the last few hundred meters from where she had left the cab. Karena felt like a thief in the night, sneaking her way into a place she was never meant to be. Around the landing pad she could spot no hovercars that belonged to any government agency. All of them were civilian cars, without the big government emblems on the doors, but even with unmarked cars there were always a few small signs. Someone sitting inside while trying to look inconspicuous as he scanned the street, a clean shine to the craft most civilians didn’t bother about or had little time to maintain on their personal transportation. She had seen enough high-level government meetings to know what she was looking for, but today she saw none of it. Foster and the small lens-shaped craft were probably too unimportant to warrant any official attention.

Foster had set her on this course of action and he had all the answers she needed. Despite the voice in her head that grew stronger and stronger, telling her she was making a terrible mistake, Karena’s stride got more confident with every step. She had made her decision. She wanted - she needed - to know more.

Foster sat in the shadow of the ship he had piloted down to Talkha half an hour ago, his back against a landing strut. His broad grin told her he recognized her, but he didn’t even get up when she stepped into the shade of the Valkyrie’s yacht.

Basiri stopped two meters away from him and looked down at the Starfleet Lieutenant. She drew a deep breath, then another, and another. Suddenly it was hard to say what she had come to say, but she was prepared to stand by her decision, maybe the first important decision she had made on her own in her whole life. She took two more steps and squatted down on the tarmac, leaning her back against another landing support of the Isis.

“Why did you become a pilot?”

Foster snorted, then turned towards her. “You know, you are amazing. You give me the weird alien treatment, then you walk up to me and ask me about the most important decision in my life like we were best buddies.”

She just stared at him, without moving a muscle. Whatever was on her mind was really serious. “Okay.” Caleb’s voice softened as he went on. “Okay, but promise me this is off the record, just you and me having a chat. No Starfleet, no Foreign Ministry, just the two of us.”

She bobbed her head once, but when Foster didn’t reply added: “My work has nothing to do with it.”

“It’s funny you would ask,” Foster softly said, propping his folded arms on his pulled-up knees. “I have been thinking about this a lot since I met you, since I started to wonder why we all make the decisions we make.” He fell silent for a moment, but just as Basiri was ready to speak up, Foster went on.

“Early in my life I made the decision that I would stand tall and proud, that no one would look down on me ever again.” He raised his hand at her, without noticing that she would not have interrupted him anyway. “What got me there is rather personal, so don’t ask. What is important is that I wanted to be proud of myself, of what I do. I figured the best way to stand out from the crowd was to join Starfleet, so I did.”

What he didn’t tell her was how humiliated he had felt when he failed to gain entrance into the Academy at his first try, despite his best efforts and all the time he had spent preparing himself for the rigorous entrance exam. It was personal, but even more important, he had put it behind him years ago.

“Once I was in the Academy I found that I had a talent for piloting and, what’s more important, I liked piloting. It got me what I wanted and I enjoyed it. What more is there to tell?”

*****

After a long while Karena found the courage to reply. “A lot more I think, but then it’s not that important I guess.” After an even longer silence she added: “So you just wanted to be your own man and ended up doing what you discovered you can do best, is that it?”

Caleb Foster ran the question through his mind back and forth a couple of times before he answered. “Yes. It’s not much of a story, but there isn’t more to it than that.”

When the silence once again started to become uncomfortable he spoke up. “Have you always wanted to become an executive assistant?”

“No.” Karena glanced at Foster who was looking down at the tarmac with furrowed brows. She turned her head and ran her eyes over the silhouette of the city center. “For a time I thought I might become an accountant like my grandfather, but that wasn’t me. Dealing only with numbers I never liked. What I like best about my work is that I get handed a task and someone tells me to make something of it, get things organized, get things going. I can do it the way I think is best, as long as I come up with the right results.”

Again she looked at the Starfleet Lieutenant and this time their eyes met. “I guess I know what you are going to ask. You are going to ask if this is the work I would have picked if I could have chosen from all the jobs available on this world.”

Cal Foster pretty much wrapped up in his own thoughts about Talkhans and their society, but he still managed a smile he hoped was encouraging. “Something like that, yes.”

She again turned her head towards the city she had spent all her life in. “No. I like my work. It’s just that... It has never before occurred to me that I could have a choice. To think that I could have had a choice and was never aware of it...” She left the sentence unfinished and rose, turning her back on the Valkyrie’s yacht and her pilot.

“Please don’t go.”

When she looked back Caleb Foster was on his feet and had taken two steps towards her. “What more is there to say?”

“A lot,” Foster stated. “For example, why did you come here today?”

“I am not sure,” Karena pensively replied. ‘Or am I sure and just don’t want to admit it to myself?’ She started to turn slowly and looked around. The wind gently rustled the leaves in the park behind the landing pad. Sunlight glistened on the windows of the city’s towers. People moved through the streets on foot or in small cars. Everything looked calm, everyone seemed happy.

“Or maybe just content, not happy,” she softly murmured, too low for Foster to hear her.

When Karena had turned full-circle she looked at Foster’s inquisitive face and shook her head. “I will have a lot more thinking to do before I am ready to answer your question. Goodbye for now, Lieutenant Foster.”

*****

"Minister Tretyak, a pleasure to meet you again." Tarin shook hands with the Talkhan diplomat, before she turned to the second gray-haired man. "Tarin Veal, Commanding Officer of the USS Valkyrie" she introduced herself.

"Bertram Novak, Minister of Defense." Novak's handshake was a vise and Tarin's will fought a brief struggle against the pain of the Talkhan's grip. When her self-control won and he let go of her hand, she introduced Commander Westmore and all four settled down around a large conference table.

"I am glad you could join us, Minister Novak, especially given your current position as the Council of Ministers’ chairman," Tarin remarked. Talkha had no president, only ministers running the different government departments, each elected by popular vote. A chairman served as speaker and tie-breaker, but the position was always filled by one of the ministers and changed every six months on a prearranged schedule. Novak had now been this first-among-equals for four months.

"Considering that our current situation does not only involve Talkha's foreign relations, but our own security concerns as well, it goes without saying that I take a strong interest in your dealings with my colleague." Novak gestured to Minister Tretyak and continued. "I must apologize that my duties did not allow me to speak to you sooner."

Tarin leaned back in her chair and brushed a strand of hair from her face, if only to appear casual and relaxed. Where Tretyak had appeared nervous Novak seemed all calm and in charge. "Does that mean the recent expansion of Talkha's territory is vital to your own security?"

"Yes. Of course." A smile accompanied Novak's words, but Tarin thought it a mere movement of muscles, not the expression of genuine emotion. "There is one thing you have to understand about our recent foreign policy that my colleague here was not at liberty to confer to you. Only yesterday did the Council of Ministers meet to discuss this topic and I have been allowed to disclose certain details, provided you only use them to judge our current situation, but do not include them in any report you file for your superiors."

Tarin drew a long slow breath as she looked from Novak to Tretyak and back again. All she saw confirmed her first impression. Tretyak would rather be someplace else and Novak was very much in control. "Very well. You have my guarantee that I will keep everything I learn here today to myself, provided it has a serious impact on legitimate Talkhan security concerns and does not compromise my own orders."

"That is all I ask for." This time Novak's smile was a little more genuine, but it vanished from his face as soon as he looked at Commander Westmore.

Captain Veal noticed the Talkhan’s look and said, "Don't worry. I can assure you Commander Westmore will follow my lead in this matter." For a moment Tarin feared this was too ambiguous to convince Novak, but after a few seconds of careful consideration the minister nodded his head the fraction of an inch.

"That is good enough for me." He reached for a carafe on the table and poured a glass of water, taking his time doing so and taking a sip from his glass. 'Why the delay?' Tarin asked herself before she realized Novak was giving Tretyak time to speak up. That the Foreign Minister didn't say anything was likely a show arranged for Tarin's benefit, to make clear Novak spoke for both of them and the whole council.

*****

"What you are not yet aware of are two facts," the Minister of Defense spoke up again. "For one we are in the middle of a far-reaching reorganization of our defense forces. Naturally we don't want anyone to learn any details about it until this process is completed, so we have to keep everyone as far from Talkha as possible for the time being. I am certain your own duties must, at times, require you to take somewhat unorthodox, yet temporary, measures to ensure operational security."

"That may sometimes be required, yes," Tarin replied after careful consideration. "Go on, please."

"The other, and even more important, reason is that we are currently negotiating trade agreements with several independent worlds in neighboring sectors. We never intended to obstruct your trade with the Alekians, but we had reason to believe that Alek would interfere with our negotiations, given what we perceive as a strong focus on trade and export on their part.” He took another small sip of water. “The Alekians are not bad people at all, please don’t misunderstand us, but before the Federation provided them with new business opportunities they always had a tendency to think of their neighbors as potential targets for... economic expansion.”

"So you were afraid the Alekians would try to interfere with your negotiations if you did not take measures to keep them away from Talkha for some time?"

"Indeed we were. Had we been aware that Alek had just struck a far-reaching trade agreement with the Federation our fears would have been less strong, but we did not learn about it until after our operation had been set in motion. Had we simply withdrawn our own claims it would have looked to our potential trade partners like we were unable to enforce our own interests, which, by extension, could well become their own interests."

“I am glad the Council of Ministers has allowed you to disclose these facts to me.” Tarin turned her attention to the carafe and poured a glass of water as she asked: “So we are talking about a temporary measure only?”

“Of course. Once our new security protocols are established and our trade deals finalized, there will be no reason to keep anyone away from Talkha. I expect that in two months, three at most, commerce between Alek and the Federation will once again pass through this sector without restrictions.”

“These are good news, but wouldn’t it be possible to allow Alekian ships to pass through your security zone sooner? Perhaps if you assigned them a specific flight route that leads well around the areas most vital to your interests,” Tarin suggested.

Minister Tretyak cleared his throat. “That is an interesting idea, but we will have to discuss this with our colleagues in the council.”

“Which of course we will do as soon as possible,” Novak was quick to add. “It might be helpful, Captain, if you contacted the Alekians and asked them if they would be willing to agree to this course of action. I am quite positive they will respond favorably if the Federation makes this proposal.”

“I will do just that,” Captain Veal agreed, “but perhaps you could provide me with some suggestions where the trade corridors could be established, before I enter into any talks with the Alekians. I expect them to require at least a preliminary plan before they make any decisions. We can always work out the details later – provided the Council of Ministers agrees to our proposal of course – but seeing how much progress we have made today I am certain you can convince your colleagues that this would be a prudent measure.”

“I will have my staff look into this matter and provide you with a few proposals as soon as I can.” Novak rose and the others followed his example. “It may take a few hours, but I am confident we can come to an agreement that benefits all parties involved.”

After they had shaken hands again Tretyak led Captain Veal and Commander Westmore from the room. “I know the measures that have been taken must look rather extreme to you, Captain,” the foreign minister said after the door had closed behind them and Bertram Novak.

“Talkha is a stable and secure world, but perhaps too much so. What you have to understand is that we have no choice but to look beyond our own world, if we want to avoid stagnation and an eventual decline of our civilization. Our current policy hasn’t been chosen lightly, but it seemed the only way to ensure that Talkha will continue to be the place our people need. The only thing I regret is that our timing has been so inconvenient for the Federation, but I don’t regret what we have done, because we have done it in the best interest of our people. Please don’t judge us by what we do, but by what we hope to accomplish.”

Prologue    Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4    Chapter 5

Chapter 6    Chapter 7    Chapter 8    Chapter 9    Chapter 10    Chapter 11    Chapter 12