The End of Organia, I and II

[Cmdr Ba'alyo 0]

"As you see me now, I stand before the President of the United Federation of Planets, the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council, their ambassadors, and those who first journeyed to our world," the pleasant voice commenced, in contrast to its abrupt arrival.

 

The bright point of light had flared suddenly, without fanfare or alert, expanding until it contained the figure of an unassuming, bearded man in its midst. Ra-ghoratreii removed his spectacles, finding no difficulty in seeing the illuminated personage who had interrupted the meeting and now commanded attention beside his desk in the Presidential Office. The Starfleet admiral and the Klingon diplomat in the room had been startled and instinctively moved to defensive postures, but the Vulcan guest had extended a hand to suggest delay, a gesture that seemed to restrain them.

 

"My name is Ayelborne," the figure continued. "I represent the inhabitants of the planet known to you as Organia." He seemed to be looking at those present. "I appeared to your predecessors to end the state of war between your peoples."

 

"I sincerely congratulate you for reaching a state that was previously imposed upon you. Such interference was both distasteful and regrettable to us, but the neutralization of your forces was necessary to prevent hostilities which would have cost millions of innocent lives. Our delay in your violence offered time to consider the path of peace, without such needless deaths."

 

"It is true you have not yet reached that day when you will work together as fast friends, but we believe you can now see beyond matters of conquest and extinction," Ayelborne smiled pleasantly, speaking in the tone of a gentle parent. "However, to be truly meaningful, such a journey cannot be coerced. You no longer need a steadying hand. You must learn to walk, even stumble, down that path together."

 

The serene face squinted, as if with some effort or discomfort. "I speak now to tell you we will not trouble ourselves in your affairs again. Whether you live together is now a matter of your own choice."

 

"I do not think we shall speak again," he concluded. "Farewell."

 

The figure stood peaceably, holding the faint smile on his lips as the light gathered toward him again. He was gone with a slight flash, leaving nothing but the dark Parisian skyline visible beyond where he appeared.

 

Silence hung a few moments in the Presidential Office, as the three others looked from their chairs toward the Efrosian at his desk. The Federation head-of-state replaced his spectacles, speaking slow and deliberately. "What does it mean?" he ventured.

 

"It would seem," the seated Vulcan offered, "that the Treaty of Organia is at an end."

 

The President tightened his lips slightly, reminded of that race's penchant for stating the obvious. "Yes," he agreed diplomatically, "but why now? The accord at Khitomer was signed more than a year ago." He leaned toward the Vulcan, addressing him directly. "Ambassador Spock, you were there when the Organians imposed their treaty thirty years ago. Why would they end it now?"

 

Spock pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. "It may be the Organians perceive we have surmounted the opposition to peace. Collapse of the Klingon coup may have been a pivotal moment. Thusfar, insurgents who have tried to oppose peace by conspiracy, assassination, and rebellion have all failed." He brought his hands together to form a double ta'al triangle with his fingers. "By removing the threat of external intervention, they further test our resolve to avoid war."

 

"Threat of external intervention, that's preposterous!" the Klingon ambassador huffed, getting to his feet. "The Klingon Empire has never been cowed by pacifist energy beings."

 

"Ambassdor Kamarag," Spock countered, "it can hardly be disputed that the Empire chose to compete under Organian terms for control of Sherman's Planet, Archanis, and other border worlds rather than conquer them."

 

"We are Klingons!" Kamarag insisted. "We make war," he looked to the President, "or peace on our own terms."

 

"Gentleman, please," Ra-ghoratreii interceded. "No one doubts the sincerity of our established agreements." He got to his own feet as the Klingon sank back in his own chair. "But it could affect our mutual plans along the border." The President turned toward the Starfleet CINC. "Bill?"

 

The fleet admiral looked uncomfortable. "The Organians have been silent for decades, Mr. President, but there's no denying the stability they enforce - knowing they were there helped keep warfare on the cold side. Oh, we had border skirmishes and ships that shot at each other," he unconsciously gestured toward Kamarag, remembering the Grissom, "but Organia was always... a safety net against open aggression." He leaned back in his overstuffed chair. "With that net gone...," he trailed off. "Mr. President, I think this is a matter best considered with the Chancellor directly."

 

[To be continued]

[Cmdr Ba'alyo 0]

The image of Ayelborne faded, returning the Chancellor's Antechamber to the orange and yellow light of Kronos' setting sun.

 

"This is some kind of trick," Brigadier Kerla insisted. He looked around the massive table, which displayed images of their border installations. "The Organians are only a myth!"

 

The veteran Klingon beside him leered. "Oh, they're real," Kor countered. "Simpering, smiling, meddling sheep, but they're real." He smoothed the gold fabric of his baldric sash.

 

Kerla looked genuinely shocked. "General Chang said they only were a story," he persisted, "conjured to explain why our warriors sat back and let the Federation remain unconquered."

 

Chancellor Azetbur narrowed her eyes at the mention of the one responsible for her father's cowardly murder. She spoke through tightened lips. "It is said they could reach into space and halt fleets," she described, sharing knowledge from her briefings by the High Command. "Weapons would scald to the touch."

 

"Yes," Kor confirmed, contemptuously.

 

There was a sound of quiet chuckling. Klingon eyes turned toward the Federation Ambassador to Qo'noS. "Get too grabby," Curzon Dax explained, seeing their attention, "and get your fingers burned." He smiled, amused with his description.

 

"Then it was not a fear of Federation technology that kept us from seizing their worlds?" Kerla ventured. "It was really these... beings?" He looked toward the table, almost longingly. "If they are gone now, we could still..."

 

"Do what?" Curzon snapped loudly, switching from a smile to a snarl. "Throw away all this peace nonsense and just take what you want?" He threw his own mug of bloodwine to the marbled floor in a marked gesture to emphasize his point. "Admit that Gorkon's initiative," he lifted one hand to the statue behind the chancellor, "was just a fancy plan to say 'nice doggy' until you could find a rock?" Ambassador Dax puffed up to his full height, righteous anger making him look strangely majestic, despite being the least threatening person in the room. "We should have done what Cartwright wanted," he muttered loudly, "sent in the fleet and dictated terms."

 

The room was silent. Kerla actually gaped at the ambassador, his mouth open. The chancellor stared icily. For a moment, Curzon wondered if he had pressed his point too hard. It was essential he did not show it.

 

It was Kor's turn to laugh. "Dax," he scoffed, "you speak like a warrior scorned." The toothy grin that followed was a savage one. "Like a Klingon." He grabbed the Trill roughly by the shoulder. "I knew there was a reason I liked you." Kor turned toward Kerla. "I serve the Empire," he stated, more formally, "but the Empire would not be served by renouncing oaths to those deal honorably with us."

 

Azetbur present a scowl of resolution. "The whims of these energy creatures change nothing," she declared firmly, "We intend to honor our accords."

 

A chamber door opened, admitting an armored member of the Yan-Isleth, the personal guard to the Chancellor. He bowed his head briefly, then reported officiously, "The Federation President requests an audience on the Red Channel."

 

Azetbur nodded and the attendant moved to initiate a projection on the table.

 

With the distraction, Curzon looked to Kor, leaning in quietly. "I thought you always dreamed of war with the Federation," he pressed.

 

"That day may come," Kor admitted, "but a Klingon blade should be seen by the eyes, not buried in the back." He paused wistfully, as the image of the Federation chief-of-state appeared before them. "Still, it would have been glorious."

 

* * * * *

 

"Madam Chancellor," President Ra-ghoratreii began, addressing Azetbur onscreen.

 

Spock folded his hands, observing. In the overstuffed chair beside him, Fleet Admiral Smillie leaned closer. "Captain," the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief whispered, invoking the former rank, "I'm thinking we may want to revisit some of the border worlds that were contested under the treaty." He raised a hand briefly, as if to reassure the Vulcan. "Mostly exploratory, nothing provocative, but it might not hurt to show the flag a little. We've got tense regions, like the Tellun star system, that could grow more unstable if some rogue Klingon thought he could touch off a war." He furrowed his brow. "Do you think the Organians would object to direct contact with their world?

 

"Uncertain," Spock replied, keeping his voice low, "although they confided that the presence of beings like ourselves was painful to them."

 

"With Captain Kirk gone," Smillie offered, pausing briefly out of respect, "we could use someone who's dealt with them."

 

"Admiral," Spock cautioned, "my duties now lie outside Starfleet."

 

The CINC nodded. "I understand," he acknowledged, "but I hope you'll consider the possibility."

 

Spock watched the admiral ease back into his chair, and turned his own attention to the impromptu summit and the assurances being exchanged. Onscreen, he noted the background presence of Kor, the Klingon who had briefly been military governor on Organia. Mentally, he calculated the probability as vanishingly small that Ayelborne should happen to appear while both of them were with their respective leaders.

 

Clearly, he had been chosen to be onhand for this development. Curious, he considered, that he had been there thirty years ago to witness the Organians stop an interstellar war. He had been reborn by the Genesis Device that later threatened that same peace. He had opened the dialogue to Gorkon that had led to the Khitomer Accords. "Fascinating," he mused. How much galactic history was he destined to influence? Unrestrained by its owner, an eyebrow went up.

[Cmdr Ba'alyo 0]

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