To Be or Not to Be

"They're a warrior race," April said.  Then it hit him: Warriors.  That was why T'Urla kept him in command, why she thought him best suited for this mission after coming off Vor'ok Nir.  He had experience as an explorer, but more as a soldier, a warrior.  "They're physically similar to humans," he continued, "but with the same blood-type as Bartokians."  Some claimed they were offshoots of the Bartokians.  "They sport tattoos as marks of honor and achievement, and their leader is called the Aramar.  I don't know much more than that."

Admiral Carrera crossed her arms.  "Any questions, Captain?"

"More like... concerns, Admiral."  He looked at Williams.  "With all due respect, sir, you need to check your accuracy.  We're at peace with the Borg.  I know, because I helped bring it about.  The Dominion has given us little trouble in going on three years; it was my impression the truce is holding and we're making headway in our negotiations.  And with the Enterprise and the Shinzon incident, we have an open dialogue for peace talks with the Romulans for the first time, ever.  The number of our enemies seems to be lessening, not increasing."

Williams didn't like that.  "Then here's something for your accuracy, Captain.  The Romulans are split over the issue of peace, as you might imagine.  Some want it, some don't, and some are taking the fence, waiting to see which side is stronger."  He sat forward, while Carrera was standing.  An odd juxtaposition, considering this was Carrera's office.  Symbolic, perhaps, of the situation, the edge of which they stood upon... especially considering Carrera's next words:

"Admiral T'Urla informed you that it's remotely possible for the Romulans to join the Federation as well, in times to come.  We have a better chance if their only allies are members of the Federation.  What we do now may decide that."

"A better chance at what?" April asked.  "Do we want the Romulans in the Federation?"

Carrera stared at him.  There seemed to be something going on behind her eyes; what, he wasn't certain.  "I'm surprised at you, Captain.  Don't you?  The Federation Council majority does.  As you put it: less enemies."

April noted her words carefully.  She didn't say we want it... and the use of the word 'majority' signaled clearly that some in the Federation Council did not want the Romulans to be part of the Federation.  April comprehended.  There were centuries of mistrust to overcome.  They faced the same situation at the Khitomer Accords in 2293, when they made peace with the Klingons... and yet, that turned out immeasurably for the better.  A sign of hope.

"All the more reason for us to seize this opportunity now," Williams added, "before they degenerate into civil war."

"I understand, sir, but to be blunt, that's not my concern.  Any depth of association with Romulans hardly warrants making the Khalindarians part of the Federation."

"I'm glad you're qualified for a political viewpoint, Captain," Williams said, stiff.  "The Federation Council disagrees.  It is your concern, because we just made it your concern."

April met his gaze.  "Sir, this is a political situation.  Politics is not my—"  He couldn't say 'area'; he had spent three years in politics.  "—focus, nor my ship's.  We're explorers first."  The same thing he told T'Urla in Moscow.  And what had been her response?: There are different forms of exploration.

"And soldiers second," Williams reminded.

April regarded him, then nodded slowly.  In Starfleet they followed orders – and the speed/time factor was not lost on him.  "True, but Arcadia's prominence carries undeniable political force.  I'm the captain of the only Starfleet vessel in existence able to cross the entire galaxy in a matter of months.  With that kind of access to the innumerable cultures we'll come across, potential new members of the Federation... what kind of a message are we sending?  Arcadia exists to face and make known the unknown, shedding light on the dark – not gallivanting around our own backyard with a flag stuck to our backs."  A flag that might become a bull's-eye, if they took this mission.

"You should be honored."  Williams' tone was careful, precise, dark eyes teasing with implications of Vor'ok Nir... implications of treachery, and the fact that April was now on probation.  April was treading the line just by having this discussion.

"Don't get me wrong, sir.  It is an honor.  But we aren't the Federation flagship.  You should send the Enterprise, or the Constitution."

"We aren't," Carrera said.  "We're sending you.  This isn't open for debate, Captain.  We uphold democracy, not practice it ourselves.  You've been selected, and every moment spent here is another moment wasted for the mission... a moment longer until you can get back to exploring."

April sighed.  His hands were tied.  It wasn't the first time.  "I have a Bartokian on my ship.  Assistant chief of security.  If the Khalindarians board Arc... I'll have to assign security details.  Bartokians have no love for Khalindarians, as you pointed out."

"She'll have to get over her personal feelings.  It's important that this matter goes smoothly, Captain.  The Khalindarians will be a great addition to the Federation."

"Why?" April asked.  Point blank.  There had to be a better reason than what they gave him.

"With their dilithium and starship construction resources, for instance, we can finally lift the bin on the slipstream program and start sponsoring wide-range exploration efforts again.  The Federation Council's main concern in enforcing that ban was our ability, or lack of, to defend ourselves if one or more foreign powers appropriated slipstream technology and launched an invasion.  Detecting a slipstream invasion wouldn't be a problem – defending against it would be.  Khalindarians can provide that defense."

"Hmm."  April pursed his lips and shook his head.  "Still, I can't say I'm overly keen on the idea, Admiral.  A race of warriors, the Federation's last hope for peace?  That just doesn't sit right for some reason."  It sounded like a Dominion practice... and following that analogy, it boded ill for the Federation's future, not improvement.

The admiral shrugged.  "It doesn't have to, Captain.  You're here to be briefed; that's what we're doing.  Once you have your orders, all you have to do is follow them."  She inclined her head towards him.  "Consider yourself briefed."  Now get out, was the unspoken implication.

April got up and stood to attention.  "Ma'am.  Sir."

Carrera: "Dismissed."