The Politics of Upheaval

While the majority of the galaxy went about its usual business, unbeknownst to most, a meeting was occurring.  The location of this meeting was top-secret... known only to the participants and a select few others.  Security was tightened to a massive scale... few present had ever seen security this high.  And the stakes involved were monumental.

The Federation, despite being highly superior in most technological respects, did not want a war.  They firmly stood by the old adage, "nobody wins a fight".  Thus, this last-ditch effort to reinstate the Venedies Treaty.  The location was an old research facility orbiting an uninhabited moon in the Beta Quadrant.  There were several representatives of Starfleet... as well as parties representing both Bartok and Khalindar.  The mood was tense... gritty.  No one was expecting miracles... and most figured this was a waste of time and effort.  But... someone still had to try... even if it felt like going through the motions.

The Starfleet vessels orbiting the station were a combination escort and referee.  It was obvious that the Bartokians and Khalindarians were not in a trusting mood.  Vessels from both sides had shields up and weapons armed... and the Federation detachment of ships were keeping their hands full just trying to keep things neutral.

It was an interesting contrast.  The Khalindarian vessels were ugly as rocks... and it seemed like every square centimeter was covered in weaponry.  They maneuvered as well as rocks, too... and only had a maximum speed in the low warp-6 range.  But they could stand toe-to-toe with ships from almost anywhere in the galaxy and come out on top.  There had been rumors that a pair of Khalindarian destroyers had taken out a Borg cube.  While it could never be confirmed... it couldn't be proven false, either.  On the other hand, the Bartokian ships were very close to the Federation.  They were not the floating arsenals that the Khalindarians preferred... they were armed, but they also used stealth and maneuverability.  People often pointed out that during the original conflict between the two races, the Khalindarians had far more vessels than the Bartokians.  Some stated it was nearly a three-to-one ratio.  Yet, by the time of the signing of the Venedies Treaty, the Khalindarian fleet was almost completely decimated.  Many wondered if that hadn't been the reason behind the signing of the Treaty... the Khalindarians wanted to buy more time to rebuild their depleted fleet.  It certainly seemed unusual that a race of warriors, after nearly a century and a half, would suddenly be interested in peace.

Aboard the UFS Starlight, Captain Douglas Kramer sat back in his chair.  He watched on the viewscreen as a pair of Bartokian Molyar-class vessels hovered across from a nasty-looking Khalindarian ship.  He didn't know how many different types of vessels the Khalindarians possessed... mainly because they all looked the same.

Shaking his head, he leaned back.  "This is a waste of damn time."

"Sir?"  His XO, Commander MacKenzie Davies glanced over.

"Nothing, XO.  Why can't Starfleet learn to keep its nose out of everyone else's affairs?"

"Just the way it is, I suppose."  She cast a glance over to the Khalindarian vessel.  "What exactly are we supposed to do if that monstrosity decides to open fire?"

Kramer snorted.  "I plan on getting us the hell out of the way."

The ship's tactical officer, Lieutenant Corvin Ostransky, looked down from his station.  "Surely they wouldn't start taking pot shots at each other in Federation space."

"The Bartokians might not... I wouldn't put it past the Khalindarians, though.  And if they took a Federation vessel or two out in the process, I don't think they'd care much."

Ostransky started to say something... when he glanced down to his panel.  "Sir... the Khalindarians' weapons are powering up... targeting systems are actively seeking."

Kramer leapt to his feet.  "Get me through to that ship now!"

"Negative, sir... they are ignoring our hails."

This was getting bad.  Something had ticked the Khalindarian off... and now, he was looking to bloody someone's nose.  Their orders were specific... not to fire unless fired upon.  Sucking in a quiet breath, he exhaled slowly.  "Lieutenant Spencer... put us in between the Khalindarian and the Bartokian vessels."

Spencer nodded.  "Yes, sir."  His hands shook as he punched in the coordinates that sent them inching in between the heavily armed Khalindarian and his intended victims.

"Mister Ostransky... what happens if that thing decides to open fire?"

Ostransky shrugged.  "Not sure, sir.  But I guarantee the resale value on this ship is going to take a beating."

Kramer smiled.  Even in the face of a heavily armed potential attacker, Ostransky still had a sense of humor.  "Shields up... bring the weapons system online... but do not target."

"Aye, sir."