Fallout 7

Shalo

Above me, in orbit, the Garaka is being readied for departure. Meanwhile, I am preparing for my mission. To the unobservant, it would appear that I am sitting in a First City bar, sipping a hot raktajino. The unobservant do not understand how preparations are made.

The Klingon who approaches me is tall and heavily built, wearing a handsome military-style tunic and carrying fine weapons, with no sign of wear. "Lieutenant General Shalo?" he says. "I am Lukar of the House of D'garl."

"Greetings to you."

"I understand that you have the ear of the Chancellor. My House is engaged in the manufacture of various sensor and recording devices, of the highest quality, suitable for use on the field of battle. We lack only the influence required to see our products taken up by the KDF. Honour and glory would accrue to us, were this to happen."

"Naturally."

"A word in the Chancellor's ear might sway the balance between us and our unworthy competitors. Whoever spoke that word would gain honour and glory in proportion to ours. More material rewards are nothing, of course, but they would follow, nonetheless."

A time waster. "I regret that you misunderstand," I tell him. "I do not have the Chancellor's ear. He has mine, to hear and obey his commands. I am to carry out an investigation on his orders. If the quality of your House's wares becomes relevant to that investigation... it will be mentioned. But I tell you, in all frankness, I do not see how that could reasonably be arranged."

He turns and departs with a snarl. I think I have just earned the enmity of a House of minor electronics manufacturers. Somehow, I cannot find it in me to quail at the prospect.

"May I join you?" The Lethean in nondescript leathers does not wait for my answer, but seats himself at the table beside me. "Depressing, is it not, how some Klingons scrabble for advantage...."

"I am not downcast," I say. This one seems a more likely prospect. "How may I assist you?"

"Perhaps, by disclosing the secret of your enviable poise and calm. Many officers, charged with a mission of importance at a time of crisis, would be engaged in the most frantic of preparations...."

"My crew is competent. I see no reason to fuss and chivvy them. My ship will break orbit at its appointed time."

"To pursue the renegade Captain Klur," the Lethean says. "And what then?"

"I will carry out the Chancellor's instructions," I say, "which you will not expect me to discuss."

"Of course not. Still, any being of even average curiosity must speculate."

"One may speculate freely, but one may not always speak freely. Especially in matters of military security."

"I would expect nothing else," the Lethean says, "from one of your reputation. Still, one must wonder at the events that have taken place - at whose interests are served, whose adversely affected...."

"Whose interests do you serve?" I ask, directly.

"Lethean interests are most ably advocated by the House of Terrath."

An idiot might take that as an answer. Letheans... they are hard to read; their facial expressions are so limited, because they rely on other methods of non-verbal communication. And, of course, they find us easy to read. I reach out, and knock my still-steaming raktajino into his lap.

He jumps to his feet, hissing and cursing. "My apologies for my clumsiness," I say.

He mutters something under his breath. "I was not reading your mind," he says.

"So I see, now. If you had been, you would have saved yourself a scalding. What did you have to say to me?"

He sits down again, somewhat gingerly. "You are to discover the truth behind Captain Klur's action," he says. "I speculate, here, but we both know that I speak correctly."

"Conceivably so."

"And, yet, philosophers down the ages have pondered the question - what is truth?" He leans a little forward. "We speculate as to what truth you will offer the Chancellor in your report. We do not impugn your honour by suggesting that you will speak less than the truth... but you will speak no more, we know that."

"What more is there to speak?" I ask - disingenuously.

"Whatever truths you speak may bring down great houses, blast lives... or exonerate others. You have a kinswoman aboard the renegade's ship, Lieutenant General; this much is known. Will your truth save her from execution, or damn her to Gre'thor with Captain Klur?"

"I do not see how that last can now be avoided," I say. "True... I might wish it were otherwise. But my kinswoman has chosen her allegiance, and must now accept the consequences."

"If matters could be arranged otherwise?"

I shake my head. "There is no way."

"A truth might be found that would permit it."

In the end, I conclude, he is just another time waster. "I am a soldier, not a philosopher," I say, and I rise from the table. "Your multiplicity of truths would complicate my mission."

"You might benefit from the study of philosophy."

"No doubt. Well, I close no doors, Lethean. But so far you have brought me only fresh questions, and I am already over-supplied with those. If you come to me again, bring answers, and we might speak." And I turn to go.

---

I return to the barracks, go to my private quarters, and close the door.

The Garaka departs within the hour. I need that time to think.

I sit cross-legged on the floor and close my eyes. Multiplicity of truths... indeed.

The truth is, Bercera IV has been destroyed. The first of my many questions: who benefits from that?

The loss of one world to the Federation is a blow; it is at least balanced by the swing in public opinion against the Empire. Star systems that would have been our allies might now become our enemies; on the other hand, systems that might have revolted against us may now be cowed into obedience. Too many imponderables to sort through.

But the fundamental outcome is as K'tag suggested. Either the war will intensify, or the backlash will cause it to abate. Who desires which outcome, and how likely is it that they will attain their desires?

Darg spoke for the war hawks: a simple creature, Darg, an armchair patriot who despises enemies he has never seen. There are many of his opinion, who thirst for Federation blood and will happily spill the blood of others to gain their ends. Is this Klur one of that faction?

K'tag's other possibility... that the outrage might end the war... must be considered. Are there pacifists and idealists who would burn a whole world to gain peace? Why, yes; there are idealists who would burn down all creation to gain their ends. An ideal is barely worthy of the name if no one is prepared to kill for it... and pacifism is an ideal.

Who desires an end to the war? Pacifists, idealists... merchants who would prosper through trade with the Federation... militarists who would fight on other fronts... and any mother who has buried her children after a battle. Who desires its prolongation? Other militarists... merchants who grow fat on military contracts... anyone who desires the curbing of Federation influence in the quadrant... and enemies of both empires, who would watch them destroy each other.

Which of these commands the loyalty of Captain Klur? One does not attain command of a starship by being stupid; Klur must have known that his action would have dire consequences. So, he would need either a pressing reason for it, or to be sure he would be shielded from those consequences.

And it would take a great deal of influence to shield him - influence that could only come from a member of the High Council. Someone, I suspect, who was at the meeting - an absence might be seen as suspicious, nor would an absent member be able to guide the discussion away from sensitive topics. It might even have been one of those who spoke there. Darg? His motivations were obvious and unsubtle. K'tag? He presented the alternatives, equivocating nicely between them - his counsel was a hall of mirrors, and who is to say where his real thoughts were concealed? Or one of the others.... The Chancellor himself? But I do not see any way in which J'mpok would gain from this.

How was Klur convinced? Straightforward bribes are possible, but I deem them unlikely. Money is not enough to purchase a Klingon - usually. And yet, a Klingon's honour may be bought very cheaply, if he does not understand that he is selling it....

I open my eyes, and rise to my feet. This speculation is fruitless. Like the Lethean, it brings me no answers, only more questions. I must find this Klur, to discover with what coin he was bought.

---

My footsteps ring on the solid metal deck of the Garaka, as the time for our departure approaches. My First Officer, K'Gan, turns his hawk-featured face to me as I approach. "All is ready, sir," he says with a salute. K'Gan is truly more of a Klingon even than I.

I take my seat in the command chair. Beneath me, the mighty Kar'fi carrier is coming to life, its Fek'lhri engines already emitting that unsettling vibration, the dull notes as of a monstrous gong that accompany us everywhere we travel. "Confirm our departure vector and stand ready."

"Confirmed." K'Gan frowns. "We have priority clearance - but we must adjust our planned trajectory. There is a class one diplomatic convoy entering Qo'noS space."

"Compensate as required. And put that convoy on the screen."

The main viewscreen shimmers, displaying the ships. The design is instantly recognizable. "So," I say, "the Federation is making its representations at the very highest level. Well, it does not concern us now. Engines ahead full, and set course for Federation space."