The Wrong Box 22

The new Nausicaan Ambassador was named Sgramash. He stood over seven feet tall, and his bladed armour gleamed, though no brighter than his tusks. He stood in the centre of the Great Hall, his gaze fixed on J'mpok as the Chancellor sat in his chair of state.

"The tribes of Nausicaa have spilled much blood for the Empire," he declaimed. "Their own blood, and the Empire's enemies'! The Chancellor knows this. The High Council knows this."

J'mpok stirred on the chair. "Why do you tell us what we already know?" he asked.

"To remind you, Chancellor." Sgramash took a step forward.

J'mpok's eyes glittered. "Nothing is forgotten," he said.

"Then let us look to the future," said Sgramash, "and what the future might bring. If it brings conflict, where does the Empire stand?"

Anger edged J'mpok's voice as he answered. "In the forefront of battle, as always!"

"Battle with whom?" Sgramash demanded. "The tribes of my people have their own conflicts, their own battles to fight. But if we are drawn to conflict with a mightier power - does the Empire stand with us?"

"The Empire stands with its sworn friends and allies," said J'mpok. "All its friends and allies."

"A day might come, Chancellor, when the Empire must choose. The Empire is not the Federation, to seek to be friends with everyone. If conflict comes, will the Empire abide by old loyalties? Or newer, more convenient ones?"

"I have said that nothing is forgotten," said J'mpok. "But I must be careful where I pledge the Empire's honour... and so should you be."

There was a muttering, now, among the ranks of the High Council. "We should not show weakness!" one of them shouted - Sarv, of the House of Kungan, J'mpok noted. A new face on the Council, one of the many who had replaced... those who were gone.

"We are not weak," said J'mpok. "We are not weak, so long as one Klingon stands with blood in his veins and honour in his soul! - But we have just fought a long war. It was a necessary and an honourable war, but we should be sure that our next... is also necessary and honourable."

"Is it not honourable to stand with one's old allies?" demanded Sgramash.

"It is honourable," said J'mpok. "Is it necessary?"

"That," said the Nausicaan, "is not yet certain. But my people are demanding certain ancient rights, and if those demands are not met - well, it would not be the first time we fought for our rights. The tribes are not averse to battle."

"You think the Klingons are?" J'mpok rose to his feet and glowered down at Sgramash. There was more angry muttering from the High Council. But the Nausicaan stood his ground.

"I will carry the Chancellor's words back to the tribes," he said. "My people will consider them... but, in the end, words matter much less than deeds. If we call for the Empire's support in our cause... then may the Empire's deeds be honourable."

---

"Upstart," J'mpok snarled, later, in his private office. "Who is this Sgramash, anyway?"

"Recently elevated to his position," said Ambassador S'taass. The huge Gorn's voice was matter-of-fact. "A warrior of some reputation, but he is also independently wealthy. He controls shipping lines, whose convoys have not greatly suffered from any of the current... depredations."

J'mpok sat down behind his bare desk, scowling. "Those worry me," he said. "The work of reconstruction is difficult enough, without these added problems. What is causing all this?"

"The main problem," said S'taass, "stems from the convulsions in Orion space. Melani D'ian is making every effort to establish control, and I expect that, ultimately, she will be successful. But, at the moment, many old rivalries have flared up between the Orion Houses - old treacheries revealed, old enmities rekindled. The source may be guessed -"

"Kalevar Thrang and his thrice-damned archive," said J'mpok.

"Quite," said S'taass. "Of course, it is simply a catalyst. Many of the Orion Houses, seeing others in disarray, seek to take advantage. Others, perhaps fearing some attack, have decided to get their retaliation in first. It is messy, complicated, destructive and expensive. So it must be financed, by some means. Commerce raiding is... traditional, in such matters."

"I know," muttered J'mpok. "There is discontent also among the Imperial Great Houses. Perhaps not so much - we are Klingons, we bore the brunt of the war, we know how important it is to rebuild, after our losses." He gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Then, too, the demon M'Tara eliminated any number of ancient quarrels when she exterminated so many of the Council. But there is still... discontent." His heavy-lidded eyes smouldered beneath his brow ridges. "At a time of such discontent - and in the aftermath of the war - it weakens us, S'taass. And you know what that means. If we are weak... then we must appear to be strong."

"You mean that you cannot necessarily refuse Sgramash's call for solidarity, if he makes it," said S'taass.

"Internecine warfare with the Nausicaans... oh, the Empire would win, no doubt of that. But in doing so, we would also lose.... But where does Sgramash demand these ancient rights of his?"

"Evidently, from a power that the Nausicaans cannot confront by themselves. There are few enough of those. The most likely one... is the Federation."

J'mpok sat, completely silent, for the space of several seconds. Then he said, "The worst of it is, there are those among the High Council who would welcome the resumption of the war with the Federation. They hunger for glory, for the defeat of our long-standing enemy. It is natural, I understand this. But now, now of all times.... We are not ready. Such a conflict would break us. Even if we won, it would break us. I am not so in love with glory, S'taass, that I neglect reality."

"Well," said S'taass, "we must do all we can, realistically. The Hegemony still has many close ties with the Nausicaans, and I will see what influence may be brought to bear. Sgramash is a businessman as well as a warrior. He may be amenable to a financial settlement, if we can determine what his ancient rights are worth. I will devote my attention to this -" He paused. "That is, if I continue in my current post."

J'mpok raised his head and stared at the Gorn. "Is there doubt of that?"

"Conceivably," said S'taass. "Representations have been made to King Slathis - one Commissioner Hrissaak, apparently, worries that I have become too close to the Empire, that I no longer represent the Hegemony's interests as well as I might." The Gorn's scaly face was unreadable. "I will, of course, keep you fully informed as to... whatever eventuates."