The Tellarite's name is Darb glaesch Krim. He stands a little way away from me, on the other side of King Estmere's control consoles, and he glowers.
"I was with the delegation to the President," he says. "President Bacco spoke to us personally, to address our concerns."
Yes, well, that was then and this is now, and President Okeg is busier now than Nan Bacco ever was. Besides, this is a Tellarite speaking.... "I can put in a call to the President," I snap at him. "I'm sure he'll listen. Perhaps we can get him out here, in a diplomatic courier, and I can take King Estmere back to work. Would that suit you?"
Darb glowers some more. Evidently, he gets the point.
"Receiving telemetry from the probes," Three of Eight rumbles at us. "First merchant convoy is approaching the contact point now. No sign of hostiles."
"There won't be," says Darb. "I know that bunch, they're signed up with K-T MMA. The Vendanphans won't touch them. They never do."
I feel my antennae twitching. We know - at least, we're reasonably sure - that the K-T bit stands for Kalevar Thrang. Somehow, ships under his protection actually are protected, at least from some of the hazards of the galaxy today.
Like the Vendanphans. Vendanpha is an isolationist, independent world in the borderlands between the Federation and the Ferengi Alliance. There is a limited amount of trade, there is the occasional diplomatic visit or cultural exchange, but so far the Vendanphans have been content to go their own way. So far.
"First convoy has cleared the perimeter," Three reports. "Second convoy on inbound approach vector." He raises his head. "I have sensor contacts at the perimeter. On approach. Direction consistent with the Vendanpha system."
"Pirates," Darb spits. "This is the third time -"
"And the last," I say. I turn to Anthi Vihl. "Plot an intercept course at maximum asynchronous warp speed." Then to Cordul. "Open all subspace channels. If they've got anything to say, let's hear it. And let's get ready to say a few words ourselves." I settle myself in the command chair.
Trade between the Federation and the Ferengi flows constantly. The Vendanphans have taken to commerce raiding, it seems... though they are, naturally enough, scared off by the sight of escorting Starfleet warships. But there are only so many starships we have left, after all the fighting - we can't commit our forces to commerce protection indefinitely. Better to bring the raiders to action and finish them decisively.
The sensor buoys along the convoy's route are stealthed, undetectable - we think - by the Vendanphans' limited sensors. King Estmere is standing out a good long distance from the convoy - too far for the Vendanphans to detect her. But it's a distance my ship can cover in no time worth thinking about.
I feel the faint shiver as we go to warp. The ship's speed builds, steadily, to its tremendous maximum.
"I have a general hail from the approaching ships," Cordul reports.
"Let's hear it."
The speakers go live. "This is Admiral Ar'kratiri of the Vendanphan Fleet to all mercantile vessels. You are passing through Vendanphan sovereign territory and are subject to taxation. Cut your drives and prepare to be boarded. All cargoes are subject to investigation and confiscation. Do not attempt resistance."
"Do we have a read on the Vendanphan ships?" I ask Three.
"One command vessel, comparable to a Starfleet standard cruiser. Nine light frigates in three tactical formations. Six large vessels with low power signatures - my estimate is, freighters."
"Time to contact?"
"Three minutes, sir," Anthi says.
"Prep the frigates for immediate launch. Amiga." The android turns her metal eyes towards me. "Do we have the appropriate treaties and diplomatic records? Is there any justification for this - sovereign territory - claim?"
"No such claim has been reported to the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps," says Amiga. "The treaties existing with the Vendanphans specify the usual sovereign boundaries - in this case, specifically, the Oort Cloud of their home system. The applicable law is the standard convention on the freedom of interstellar space for civilian transit. Both the Federation and the Ferengi Alliance are formally committed to defend that convention."
In short, the Vendanphans' sudden claim to be an interstellar empire, ruling over deep space, is utterly baseless. I knew that, I suppose, but it's nice to have it confirmed by someone with a mechanically infallible memory. "Go to red alert," I order, and I watch the tactical board as it goes live.
The Vendanphan frigates are swooping in towards the merchant convoy. The freighters have limited armament - perhaps enough to make a fight of it, but not enough to stop them from taking serious damage, enough to wipe out all their profits from the journey. They know it makes no sense to offer resistance. I take a look at the other ships. The Vendanphan freighters are huge, and the mass readings show they're pretty much empty. My guess is that the convoy wouldn't have much left by the time those ships finished investigating and confiscating.
King Estmere crashes out of subspace. "Launch frigates," I order. "Mr. Cordul. Put me on general hail."
"Launching Alpha," says Anthi, "launching Bravo." Twin shudders as the Mesh Weavers shoot out from the bays.
"Channels open, sir," says Cordul.
I stand up. "Vendanphan vessels. This is Admiral Tylha Shohl aboard the Federation starship USS King Estmere. You are engaged in an act of piracy against Federation shipping. You are under arrest. Stand down and surrender your vessels, or you will be fired upon. You have sixty seconds to comply."
"Launching Charlie. Launching Delta." All four of my frigates are now in the sky.
Technically, we're outnumbered, two to one. But, if you consider class, the odds are a lot more in my favour. A single one of the Mesh Weaver frigates is very nearly equal to the Vendanphans' command cruiser - and, as for King Estmere herself, well, there is no comparison.
"Signal from the Vendanphan cruiser," Cordul reports.
"On screen."
Admiral Ar'kratiri has red skin and a skull decorated with multiple bony ridges; he is wearing a black uniform tunic with an extravagant number of medals and rank badges. His eyes are amber and slit-pupilled, and they are glaring at me. "What is the meaning of this?" he demands.
"It's self-explanatory," I say. "You're wasting time, Admiral."
"If the Federation has objections - we are engaged in legitimate taxation - if you object, I will withdraw my ships on this occasion - as a gesture of goodwill -"
"Try to escape, and I will open fire immediately," I say. "You have about thirty seconds left, Admiral. Power down all weapons, drives and shields, and stand ready for boarding. Or I will open fire." My eyes lock with his. I leave him no doubt that I mean it.
He blinks first. Literally so, as it happens. He turns his head, speaks to some underling. "Pass the word. All ships, surrender. Stand down."
"Wise decision, Admiral," I say. He replies only with another glare. I turn to address my own - underlings. "Security teams. Assemble boarding parties in all transporter rooms. Prep secure holding for incoming prisoners in quantity." The Vendanphan crews will have to be taken off their ships - well, there is room on King Estmere for all of them. "Engineering, ops, ready prize crews to take command." I let Ar'kratiri hear all this. I can see it isn't making him happy.
Darb stirs. "Good job," he says, in reluctant tones. "So far, anyway. What's your next move, though?"
"I have some ideas," I tell him. "Mr. Cordul. Prepare to transmit a communiqué to the Vendanphan government, specifics as follows -"
---
Grand Admiral Em'zanastri is a different colour from his subordinate; green, not red. He has a similar ridged skull, though, and his uniform tunic is so stiff with medals and ribbons and braid that I wonder he can stand up in it. He looks apprehensive in the main viewer. And well he might.
"Why are we meeting here?" he asks. The rendezvous point is in deep space, five light years from the nearest star, well away from the trade routes. An empty spot, where nobody goes. "And why did you specify an empty troop ship?"
The troop carrier is there, among the Vendanphans' little fleet. Em'zanastri's flagship is... maybe equivalent in size to a Federation heavy cruiser; he has brought two other cruisers in support, and six of those frigate wings - and the troop ship. It's a significant enough force that I've deployed my Mesh Weavers again, just in case he gets any ideas. Behind King Estmere, the captured Vendanphan ships float free, some distance away.
"Grand Admiral." I salute, formally. I suppose my own dress uniform ought to be as stiff with medals as his is, by now. I've long since reached the point where such things don't matter. "I am Admiral Tylha Shohl, aboard the USS King Estmere. I am transmitting my personal clearances and diplomatic credentials along our data channels now, so that you will know that I have full authority for my actions in this matter."
"What... actions... do you propose to take?" He sounds nervous.
"Your ships engaged in piracy against Federation shipping. I would be within my rights to have their personnel transferred to the Federation for trial on that charge, but in view of the existing agreements between our governments, I have decided to exercise some latitude. Your personnel will be repatriated immediately, to be dealt with according to your own judicial system. That, sir, is why I requested that you should bring an empty troopship. So that they can travel home in reasonable comfort. King Estmere's brig, at the moment, is... a little cramped."
"I... see." Does he look faintly relieved?
"Please contact the troopship, sir, and have them set up for immediate transporter operations. Ops." I turn to Cordul. "Are we all set up at this end?"
"Ready for transport as soon as we get clearance, sir," the big man says.
"Excellent." I turn back to the screen. "At your discretion, Grand Admiral."
He looks offscreen, issues orders. After a short time, I glance at Cordul, who nods. I run a quick glance over the tactical board. There don't appear to be any changes.
"Our people are... returning to us," Em'zanastri says. "We... appreciate the Federation's attitude, Admiral Shohl."
"It would be helpful, sir," I say, "if I could report to the Federation Council that there will be no repetition of this incident."
"I -" He licks his lips; his tongue is a pale green. "I - am responsible to my government - I do not have your diplomatic status, I cannot enter into binding commitments on behalf of the Vendanphan people - I would like to give you my personal assurances, but -"
Let me guess. There are elements in his government pushing for commerce raiding, for some reason of their own. Some militant faction, perhaps, looking to engineer a crisis that will put them at the head of government? It happens. "The Federation, sir, can't accept only personal assurances. I'm afraid, if your government won't commit itself to suppressing piracy, we will have to take measures of our own in that direction."
"Measures?" He sounds nervous again. "What... measures... do you have in mind, Admiral Shohl?"
"For the present, sir - well, that is why I asked for a rendezvous at these coordinates. So that no navigational hazards would be created." I turn to Cordul. "Ops. Have transporter operations been completed?"
"Last set of detainees is on the pads now, sir. Let me see.... Off they go. Transport confirmed. All Vendanphan personnel transferred back to Vendanphan custody."
"Excellent. Then we'll just tidy up the rest of this mess. Scuttle those derelicts."
"Aye, aye, sir." Cordul touches a control on his console.
Behind us, the captured - and now empty - Vendanphan ships erupt in searing white light as antimatter demolitions charges breach their warp cores. The freighters were so large, their warp cores so feeble in power, that we had to place additional demolitions charges at strategic points on their hulls. The resulting explosions are spectacular.
Em'zanastri's face is stricken. "Material assets used in pirate actions will be destroyed," I say airily. "It's only property, after all." The Federation attitude - material things mean next to nothing in a post-scarcity economy. But the Vendanphans, in a single system, don't have a post-scarcity economy. I don't know how significant a percentage of Em'zanastri's fleet has just been vaporized - but the value of those freighters has to be significant; the loss from their destruction far outweighs any gains from piracy. The commerce raiding faction on Vendanpha, in short, has just taken an enormous hit to the wallet. Right where it counts.
I sit down in the command chair. "I hope such action won't be necessary again," I say. "And I certainly hope we won't have to escalate beyond mere damage to property. Please take that message home to your government, Grand Admiral. I believe that concludes our business here today. King Estmere out."
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