Captain's Log, Stardate 6119.2:
The emergency is passed. Although two of the children were lost, despite our best efforts, a galactic war seems to have been averted. We have heard no more claims from the Klingons that the Sparrow inflicted massive damage on their people or equipment. Apparently, Kreth's debacle has embarrassed them out of belligerency. The Federation has tried to estimate a fair sum to pay in restitution; the Klingons have accepted it without comment.
The Council of Youngers of Boaco Six now completely accepts the Federation's version of what happened when their ship and the ship from the eighth planet were destroyed. The Enterprise has returned to Boaco Six, in an attempt to capitalize on the restored trust and court the revolutionaries out of the Klingon-Romulan camp. We are discussing with them the possibility of better relations and aid, instead, from the Federation of Planets. Outlook: hopeful.
THE TOWERING, elaborately carved doors of the chamber of the Council of Youngers were swung wide open. Kirk led the entourage of senior officers from the Enterprise into the brightly lit chamber. The long table was covered with a cloth of wine-colored linen, and the glistening black brandy shimmered in precious metal goblets. Dress uniform was beginning to feel like daily garb for Kirk; he straightened up and walked forward to meet his hosts.
The entire Council of Youngers of Boaco Six was assembled before him. They were a forthright group of young men and women, some seemingly barely of their teens. The one older member of the council seemed incongruously gray and venerable. And there were four middle-aged men, who Kirk did not know, sitting at the end of the table.
The young soldiers had decked their chambers and themselves out with care. Tamara Angel stepped around the table and extended her hand to Kirk. Her garb was of the traditional woven cloth. She wore a gown of dark blue, with a stone brooch at her throat. A shawl floated around her shoulders. It was embroidered with spirals and tears and inlaid mirror-work. Her hair showered over it in waves.
"Captain Kirk," she said as she took his hand, "we are only too glad that you have returned to Boaco Six. We hope that we and the Federation can put behind us the misunderstanding that caused so much trouble when we last met. We are now more anxious than ever to increase good relations with the Federation of Planets."
"It is an honor and a pleasure to return, Tamara Angel. The Federation also feels that, now more than ever, we can only profit from closer ties to your world."
Tamara Angel led Kirk and his men to the table, where they formally greeted all the members of the council. And she indicated the four middle-aged men who sat at the far end. "And these gentlemen," she said with quiet pride, "are delegates who represent our neighboring planet, Boaco Eight. So, as you can see, Captain, negotiations are going on within our solar system. War between our worlds has been averted for the moment—perhaps forever."
The men bowed to Kirk and he bowed back. The Enterprise men were seated. Iogan was present, seated on Tamara Angel's right. Kirk was on her left. He watched, amused, as Iogan made a great show of pouring the goblets of Boacan brandy for the new guests, and as trays of food were brought in with great pomp and ceremony.
They may be revolutionaries, but they're learning quickly the need for social amenities, and the ways to fete and flatter us like diplomats.
Before the meal began, Iogan rose to make a toast. "To our friends in the Federation. May we learn not to falsely judge one another. And to respect our differences and recognize our common causes."
There was a general "Hear, hear," and the drinks were tossed off. Kirk remembered Tamara Angel's playful toast, "Here is mud going in your eye," and suppressed a chuckle. No doubt these kids would prefer to conduct negotiations in a relaxed and casual atmosphere, as he would. But the conventions would have to be observed. As exciting as power was, drudgery and the bourgeois art of compromise came with the territory; he was glad to see that they were learning that.
Now guards entered the chamber, carrying long wooden torches. They used these to light smaller torches which lined the walls of the high-ceilinged room, so that the light danced and crackled, and the room was filled with a mossy burning smell. The smoke drifted upward, through a vent in the distant roof. Mayori, the one old member of the Council of Youngers, shut his eyes and began to wail and chant in the ancient language of the people of Boaco Six.
"This is an old custom, Captain," Spock whispered, sotto voce, "at holiday feasts and great state occasions. They are honoring, with this torchlight, the two suns of their solar system."
Kirk could see that the men in the delegation from Boaco Eight were moved by the ceremony as well; they sat with their eyes closed and listened to the wailing.
When Mayori finished, more brandy was poured, and the young councilmen, acting as hosts, began the carving and the serving of food. There was a magnificent haunch of one of the six-legged jungle animals at the table's center, the skin sizzling and braised with a sweet-smelling sauce. The platter was garnished with herbs and wildflowers. There were delicately pickled small fish and fowl in small bowls, and skewers of chunks of some other kind of meat, wrapped in strips of seaweed. And there was a plate of spiced seaweed and a bowl of fruit for Spock. Kirk could hear McCoy baiting him, and Spock patiently answering as the doctor argued that Spock owed it to his hosts to try a little of the meat.
Kirk turned his attention to Tamara Angel, who was filling his goblet with brandy.
"Drink up, Jim. And whichever of us drinks the other one underneath the table shall be declared the winner at diplomacy."
"That's not fair, Tamara. You've grown up drinking this stuff. You'd beat me, hands down."
"Hands … down?"
"Never mind. It's good to see you again. I'm glad to see you no longer think I'm a spy, or a fall guy for the Federation."
Tamara Angel looked apologetic. "We in the council wish to make amends for our earlier suspicions of you. And I must add my personal apology. We judged you too quickly and trusted your enemies too easily."
Kirk glanced past her to Iogan, who seemed to be debating some point across the table with the genial Noro. Kirk said in a half-whisper, "Then I take it Iogan didn't exactly bring back a glowing report of Kreth, and the Klingon arms dealers?"
Tamara Angel shook her head vigorously and also spoke softly. "He was disgusted by how they ran their ship, how they treated a colony they visited, how they treated him … and by their stupid destruction of the small ship you were trying to save. We do not believe in the senseless slaughter of small children, Iogan does not now think the Klingons are to be trusted."
"They're not exactly known for their winning personal charm. But I'm glad he was on hand for that graphic display of just how cruel and destructive they can be."
"Yes," she said. "And while we now know that the attack on Irina and the ship from Boaco Eight was, as you claimed, an accident, perpetrated by children who did not know what they were doing, other acts of sabotage we suspected Starfleet of have now been linked to the Klingons. We have evidence that they and the Orions are trying to force a war between us and Boaco Eight. They've been feeding us false information. Sabotaging our cargo ships and making it look like our neighbors are responsible, or the Federation. The Orions have apparently been trying to sell weapons to both sides, arm us both for the conflict. We look upon war as a last resort—they try to push us toward it."
"Mmmm. Typical Klingon and Orion tactics. I'm glad to hear that you've come to recognize them." Kirk speared a piece of meat with his fork and sampled it; the meat was surprisingly sweet and tender, almost melted in his mouth.
Tamara Angel had launched into her food with gusto, seasoning the meat of the main dish with condiments, and biting chunks off the long sharp double-pronged skewers.
"But I take it then," Kirk continued, casually, "that the Romulans still have your trust? They are—besides us—the one power in the galaxy you feel you can do business with?"
Tamara Angel made a face. "I will tell you about the Romulans. I will tell you, now, of our recent close relations with them, because they are no more. Soon after you left Boaco Six, we commissioned a large supply of ocean transport vehicles, air-skimmers, and space weaponry from the Romulans. The most we'd ever spent on such a venture. The goods arrived several days ago. We paid in advance. Some of the flying machinery is acceptable and usable. But the weapons are outmoded junk. Not just primitive—they are old, burned-out weapons, unsafe to use. We have been ripped up."
"Off," Kirk corrected.
"Off," she agreed emphatically. "So perhaps you can see, Jim, some of the reasons why we are so eager to make a new start with your Federation."
"I appreciate your frankness, Tamara."
"I am authorized by the council to tell you, Jim, that we would like to begin trade again. Of the chemical argea, and our brandy, and other goods. But we must insist on fair prices. It cannot be as it was in the past."
"Yes, of course," Kirk said earnestly. He had some information that he had been authorized to convey, and this seemed like the time to pull out the Federation's most attractive proposals. "The Federation can give your people aid, Tamara, help you build argea processing plants here, on your own world. You could refine it yourselves, use it to benefit your people, and sell what you did not need to other companies in the galaxy at your own price."
Tamara looked cautious. "We are already too much in debt to the Federation. As it is, we cannot pay back the debts incurred by Puil and the other old tyrants."
Kirk had been waiting for this. He now offered his diplomatic plum. "There is talk in the Federation Council of canceling some of those debts. Erasing them. After all, Puil's excesses were hardly your fault. And we would like to see your world become self-sufficient, not more dependent."
"Erase … the old debts?"
Kirk was amused by her obvious surprise. "Fair treatment startles you, Tamara?"
"From the Federation … I'm afraid that maybe it still does. But you know, I think I could get used to it."
She smiled. The blue dress transformed the soldier completely into a vivacious young woman. Her maroon eyes twinkled.
"And as a further sign of our good faith, Jim, let me tell you some more news. 'Off the record' of course. I believe you will not be hearing any more about a Klingon-Romulan alliance. Iogan witnessed the beginnings of the discord. The Romulans wanted very badly to get hold of the Flint device, to penetrate it, neutralize it. They blame the Klingons for ruining the chance to do that. The Klingons are now angry that the Romulans sold us shoddy goods, and are making much of it, telling us that the Romulans are not reliable."
Kirk grinned. "I knew that it was a marriage that was too strange to last."
From across the table, Noro laughed and ventured a joke. "What is all this talk of a marriage that I hear? Have relations between us improved so rapidly?"
His joke was greeted with laughter from around the table, especially from the other members of the Council of Youngers. Tamara Angel rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Jim. Wherever we go to discuss politics, people form the wrong idea."
Kirk gazed back at her mischievous face and had to remind himself that this was a foreign minister of great importance, and the mission he was on was both delicate and grave.
Tamara Angel concluded what she had been saying. "So, while there are some on the council who still favor doing business with the Klingons and Orion, or with the Romulans, the general feeling seems to be that we want to give the Federation another chance. True, they have exploited us in the past—"
"Or, at least, some of its members have."
"All right, some members of the Federation, if you wish. At any rate, we are also aware that the Federation has done some good for the people of Boaco Six before our revolution, and set up aid programs like the one you now propose, although the corruption of the tyrants kept them from doing much good. But I think the Federation of Planets is the power preferred by the people of Boaco Six, as well as by the Council of Youngers."
"If you throw your lot in with us," Kirk said seriously, "I believe you will find that the Federation's attitude toward your world and your revolution has changed. We are more aware of the challenges you face …"
At this point, a slightly drunk delegate from Boaco Eight rose to his feet and made a long and tearful toast. A volley of toasts followed, each group present chiming in. The state dinner was considered a resounding success by all sides.