Detente?
Posted on July 31st, 2007 by Ian Blackthorne and Douglas McKnight

Ian Blackthorne and Douglas McKnight

Atlantis’s bridge was silent except for the ship’s ambient noise; the comm channel sat open for a few moments after Lord Tyrus asked Admiral Blackthorne about his proposal. He didn’t come all this way to say, “Never mind,” when presented with a chance to talk to a system lord over a secret channel, so he cleared his throat. “As I said, I seek to end the hostilities. I have reason to believe that enthusiasm for this war isn’t shared by many in your government. I’ve risked a lot on that belief.”

For a moment, Tyrus simply chose to reciprocate Blackthorne’s earlier, fleeting silence, as he stared directly into the face of his enemy; for truly, whatever else this Blackthorne would have him believe, he WAS at present an enemy of the Machen bren Star Kingdom. Eventually, however, apparently having reached his decision, he let loose a long sigh, and steepling his fingers, cleared his throat before replying.

“I’ll tell you what, Admiral Blackthorne. I will, for the moment, not only allow that belief to stand unchallenged for the sake of argument, but even refrain, FOR THE MOMENT, from asking where you received this supposed intelligence. That is, I will be so accomodating if you will do something for me in return. I have this curious feeling that I’m about to be asked to take some heartfelt claims of the Federation’s benign nature on faith. I think I might be a good deal more likely to acquiesce if you can provide a show of your good faith. Case in point, I am as we speak uploading an adaptive virus alongside this transmission. In most respects, quite harmless I should think, but for an effective assurance that you will find no recording of this conversation extant in your computer once we’re done here. So long as your officers can confirm that’s all it’s doing, I would appreciate no effort on your part to eradicate the program. Frankly, I do not share your boundless optimism regarding our relationship, and I’ll not be blackmailed, Blackthorne.”

Ian’s eyes darted to T’Kirr and McKnight, who had already begun analyzing the virus Tyrus spoke of. When he received nods from both of them, he spoke again. “My officers confirm what you say, and I agree to allow this. However, you shouldn’t interpret what I’m doing as boundless optimism, either. I’m fully aware that this mission may fail, and fail spectacularly. But with the information I have, if I didn’t at least try to end this war and prevent what could be hundreds of thousands of deaths, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself afterwards. That said, I don’t go into any mission expecting failure, and the fact that you’re still talking to me does present some measure of possibility.”

“Yes, yes, huzzah for your placated conscience. I do hope though, for your sake, that you haven’t come hoping to win my compliance simply by telling me this war shall go badly for the System Lords. We may in many ways be, as you allege, a diverse people, but make no mistake. We are a race of warriors. I expect in your experience as in ours, everyone says that. ‘We are a race of pastry chefs’ doesn’t strike the same chord, I suppose. But if we’ve given you any cause to doubt it before, we are fully intent on proving it henceforth. Trepidation alone, regardless of its intensity, will not deter any of us.”

“That’s not my message at all.” Ian paused a moment, gathering his diplomatic wits and trying to get a sense of the man he was talking to. A disembodied voice was hard to read. “This war will go badly for both of our peoples. Yes, your attack at the Xindi colony went very well for you, but you caught us off guard. The rest of the war will be a long, bloody, drawn-out brawl. The outcome is uncertain, but regardless of who wins, casualties for both sides will be astronomical. Even a self-proclaimed warrior race can see that result as undesirable.”

“Throwing away the lives of our best and bravest recklessly is not an esteemed course of action, no. Be that as it may, I’m curious what alternative you see. As even a race of self-proclaimed chefs could see, we are by this point committed. And speaking as one with considerably more experience in the politics of this realm than yourself, I expect the king shall for some time be perfectly content to remain committed.”

“Kings only remain in power so long as their lords support them, Tyrus.”

“Twelve gods! You ARE trying to get me killed!”

At least he had broken through the smug facade, or at least it appeared that way. “No, Tyrus. As sappy as it may sound, I’m trying to save us both.”

If Tyrus’s composure had slipped, it would shortly re-assert itself, though in truth, the frown now etched upon the Syetem Lord’s face did seem to suggest he was suddenly taking this encounter a bit more seriously.

“Alright then, my human priest, listen to me now. You’ve taken to guessing at the attitude of our kingdom; let me tell you plainly. Yes, there are those of us in the Machen Bren Star Kingdom who question the wisdom of seeking out open war against a people capable of building ships like Atlantis. But all the same, there are those who have seen it as inevitable, who have no desire to buy time that they may idle away in dread, and they are legion. What’s more, following the victory you speak of, their ranks have swelled. Even now, I too prepare for war, if only out of knowledge that failing to do so would likely be to trade one enemy for many. Strong though my domain may be, I could not oppose the king’s will in this even if it were my heart’s fondest wish!”

“But, there are others like you. If they could be united, in any way possible, then tell me what to do. This war wasn’t inevitable, despite what you may have come to believe about my people.”

Tyrus’s answer would come sooner than Blackthorne might have expected when he made his request. “Prove that claim of yours, Blackthorne. Fine, indeed there are those who would quite relish an opportunity to strike a blow against the power of King Argelev and his Orion ‘allies.’ But the answer to ambition is fear, a curse upon all sentient beings, warriors included, and as we’re both quite aware of, there is a war on! If you are in search of someone fool enough to go and fight tomorrow’s battles at the cost of today’s, you shall find none here. It is very well that you propose we take up arms against the monarchy in search of so lofty a goal as peace, but would your Federation assist us in the endeavor? Can you even say anything to prove to me or any other that you would not simply take the opportunity to more easily crush a divided foe?”

“I do not have the authority to guarantee assistance in such a rebellion,” Blackthorne said with a sigh, thinking. “But I can offer behavioral precedent to show you that we would not seize the opportunity to wipe you out. For example, the Klingon Empire, a proud warrior race. Our relations with them have been rocky in the past. But, at their weakest time when a moon of their homeworld exploded, we offered aid instead of crushing them. They are our allies now, independent from the Federation in all ways, yet stronger than ever.”

Sadly, it seemed that the offered proof did little to secure an agreement. Indeed, a look that seemed as much one of resignation as much as anything else settled upon Tyrus’s face.

“An…intriguing anecdote, Admiral Blackthorne, but sadly one I have no immediate way to verify. In any case, as far as this present conversation, we seem to find ourselves at an impasse. You seek my commitment to gathering allies that I might fight a war perhaps as destructive as the one we are engaged in now, that you may enjoy a more favorable position. And yet, I can commit to no such thing unless those allies are already secured. I am…sorry, Admiral; I cannot give you the answer you seek. Perhaps, if it is your intention to carry out other conversations such as these, and against all odds, the labor proves fruitful, we may have cause to talk again. But that is for tomorrow. For now, I suggest you withdraw before my fleet finds you and leaves us both without options. Farewell, Blackthorne.”

The comm channel was cut, but to Ian, his course was now clear. “Helm, get us out of here. Set a course for the next of the coordinates in the list. Warp six.” The mission would continue, but Atlantis would have to do the legwork.