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I welcome Ambassador Solev to Starbase 23's newly refurbished VIP/Diplomatic quarters and wish him a long, happy, and hopefully productive stay, as well as thanking him for his permission to keep his stories up on my site. His stories are good and I've enjoyed having them shown to all for the good works that they are, as well as giving the Trek fan fiction universe some much-needed diversity. I am just happy that these stories, told from the rare and unique viewpoint of a Hydran character, have a permanent, and authorised place on the 'Net.
The Ambassador stood on the balcony of the city hall building of Sireth. He looked down into the valley where Tothuul stood, recent events moving through his mind. Behind him stretched the ruins of Sireth, a mass of twisted black girders and naked steel. The fires had stopped burning here long ago, but the city still looked as though the devastation had just happened. Perhaps that is why many of his people consider the city to be a ghost town. Few would come here for any reason.
His communicator buzzed, he slid it open. “Solev here.”
“Sir, we have just received a communication from the Palace. His majesty wishes to see you as soon as possible.”
“Thank you. Beam me aboard.”
“Yes sir.”
Once he had arrived on the bridge, Solev turned to the captain. “Zen Toburon, would you please order a course for home?”
“As you wish.” Zen turned toward his crew and gave the appropriate orders.”
Solev went to the communications station. “Can you forward a copy of the Royal communication to my quarters? I would like to read it myself.”
“Absolutely, sir.” The comm chief answered. “It will be there when you get there.”
“Thank you. Captain, I shall be in my quarters, please notify me on our arrival.”
“Yes, sir.”
Communication Code: 965-A48
To: Ambassador Solev, HMS StarFinder
From: Hydrax, Royal Palace
Solev, We have received some disturbing news in the last few days. I fear you may have overstayed at Akkrev. I wish to talk to you as soon as possible. Please make best speed for home with a report on your meeting with the Mirak and Lyran representatives.
=Message Ends=
Solev began sifting through the recent military news channels to gain some insight as to the ‘disturbing news’ his Highness was concerned about. It was not entirely necessary, as the King would inform him of all the details. However, it was his knowledge of recent events that allowed him to predict what the King would say, and it impressed his Highness.
Mutinies reported throughout fleet.
Hydraxaport under investigation.
Dissent spreading within the Royal Navy
The headlines alone told Solev a wealth of information. The stories were depressing. His vision of peace with the Lyrans wasn’t sitting well with the crews and officers of the Navy. Solev closed all three of his eyes.
“If we cannot keep peace within our fleet, how can we have peace with others?” Solev asked aloud, to no one in particular.
“We cannot, sir.”
Solev was startled, he thought he was alone. He opened his eyes, and turned around. It was his diplomatic aide de camp, Rolas. “I thought I was alone.”
“You are an ambassador to the King.” Rolas smiled. “You are never alone.”
Solev had to smile at that. Rolas had been assigned to him when he joined the diplomatic corps five years ago. Since then, Rolas had been his constant companion, ready to help in any way possible. “Of course.” Solev replicated a drink of Earl Grey tea. An oddity here aboard a Hydran vessel, but a taste he had acquired while in Federation space working out some minor details in the treaty that made them allies. He went to a chair in the center of his room, and faced the observation window, watching the stars streak by and sipping the tea.
“Rolas, tell me something. Have you read the latest news? The items about the mutinies?”
“I have heard a few things.” Rolas ordered up some tallesh leaves, which he ate while sitting next to the ambassador. There was quiet for a long time as the two sat with each other watching the viewport.
Eventually Solev broke the silence. “Tell me what your thoughts are.” Solev had grown accustomed over the past five years to listening to his aide’s thoughts. They were surprisingly valid, and often pointed out things that he had not thought of.
“You and his Majesty know that a border war with the Lyrans and Klingons is an expensive proposition. You and a few others wish for peace, with the Lyrans at first, then with the Klingons. All of this to provide the strongest possible defense against the Concordium, if it exists. That is the source of our troubles. Few actually believe in the ISC, thinking them myths made up by the Lyrans or maybe the Klingons to frighten us into subservience again.”
Rolas paused for a moment to pick up some more leaves, which he ate with one mouth while he continued talking with the other. “These mutinies are simply a reaction to the attempt to make peace with the Lyrans. Our largest problem is determining why Hydraxaport seems to be producing such a large number of mutinous crews. It should simply be the guild that runs the shipyard harbour anti-Lyran feelings. Either way, an inquest seems unavoidable.”
“That is exactly what I had been thinking, Rolas. As usual, you prove that you have kept abreast of recent events.” Solev sipped his tea again. “Thank you. I won’t need you again until we reach port. Why don’t you go get some rest.”
“Thank you sir. If it helps, I too want peace. I am tired of fighting with warriors who could be our friends.”
Solev smiled again. “Thank you. Let’s hope we aren’t in the minority.”
A soft tone and then a voice awakened Solev. “Ambassador, we are ten minutes from docking.”
“Very good. I shall be up to the bridge in a few minutes.”
“Aye, sir.”
Once on the bridge, Solev noticed that the command crew had changed into dress uniforms, the captain was always concerned with appearances upon returning home. This is, after all, the Homeworld. The main viewscreen showed the main docking iris of the starbase; almost too narrow for the Lord Marshall he was in. A voice came in over the intercom.
“HMS StarFinder, this is control, we are prepared to initiate docking procedures, do accept our control?”
Solev waited a moment to look around the bridge; the captain was waiting as well, he knew that this was Solev’s venue, and that the ambassador would accept when he was sure everything was ready.
“Control, we accept, the StarFinder is yours.”
A tractor beam locked onto the ship, and slowly it was pulled into the bay. The iris was open as far as it could go, and the StarFinder slipped in with only a few feet to spare on either side. This was not the largest docking bay at this base, but the largest was only open to a private bay that held only one ship. Behind the deepest layer of security protocols, slept the HMS Monarch, the Kings own ship, waiting for the day she would return to action. The Monarch was the largest ship in the Royal Navy, a battleship that none of the other races were aware the Hydrans had. Even when the Klingons occupied Hydra, they didn’t know of the Monarch. Her maiden voyage had been one of battle, as she awoke to repel the Klingo-Lyran fleet that had enslaved them. Solev had only seen the Monarch once, from behind a heavy clearsteel viewing port. It was a ship of such dimensions it defied belief, and made the StarFinder seem insignificant.
The StarFinder docked, and the gangplank was extended. As per standard operating procedures, fatigued crew left the ship for R+R, and maintenance crews began repairs and refueling procedures. Solev left the ship and went to the transporter room. His diplomatic visa earned him permission to transport immediately to the palace.
Beaming straight to the palace meant that Solev did not get an opportunity to see the palace from the outside. Solev was not concerned, however, since he had seen the exterior of the Palace on many occasions. In the meantime, in the transporter foyer, there was a painting by Solev’s great uncle, Bes Tradothan of the palace. It depicted twin rise over the palace, the one time each year, when Hydrax’s moon, in orbit less than half the distance from Hydrax to the sun rose at the same time as the Hydrax sun, Hydra. The moon is on an elliptical orbit that carries it closer to the planet before moving out to a more respectable distance. It played havoc with the tides during that time of year, but when the moon and the sun are both visible in the sky at the same time; it is a breathtaking sight to behold. This painting captured the essence of the twin rise; the moon hovering over the palace with its golden spires, and the sun half obscured by the horizon. The gold tiles of the Palace walls tinged a pale green from the combined light of the sun and the moon.
Two security guards stood by the doors to the foyer, watching everything that went on. They were dressed in their best uniforms, which proudly displayed their rank pins, medals, and the insignia of the royal palace guards. One allowed himself a small conceit: A small brass pin rested on his left shoulder, it was the symbol of the Consolidated Workers Guild, a well known guild that produced some of the finest metalworkers the Kingdom had ever known.
An aide came up to Solev, and asked for his visa. Solev handed it to him, and contemplated the painting while his clearance was checked. He would not be allowed through the doors to the foyer, which could stop the blast from a handheld fusion rifle, if his visa did not clear him.
“Everything is clear, Ambassador.” The aide said as he handed Solev’s visa back. “You may enter now. His Majesty wishes to see you as soon as possible.”
Solev closed all three eyes for a moment and bowed his head, a sign of respect. “Thank you.”
“Will the ambassador require an escort to the throne room?”
“No, Thank you, I know the way.”
After years of working in the palace, much of the expansive beauty of the place went unnoticed by Solev. A newcomer to the palace would have been in awe of his surroundings. The throne room doors stood open, each of them 9 feet tall, and made of a material that was similar to bronze, but more heat resistant. His majesty rarely kept them closed, as few people could make it this far without passing through many of the most stringent security checks. The doors were cast in a high relief that showed events from the history of Hydrax. In the top left corner was a scene that depicted the creation of Hydrax, the offspring of a starbeast and the god Modrul. The panels progressed through the ages as one looked down their length. Where the narrative stopped on one side, it was picked up again at the top of the other door. The very last event depicted was from more recent history, the liberation of Akkrev, nearly thirty years ago.
Once past the doors, one was greeted by the splendour of the King’s Throne Room. The ceiling was vast, nearly ten feet high, and topped by a dome of clear glass that easily measured a hundred feet or more. The stars were almost always visible through this portal, and their twinkling seemed to pulse in time with the gold of the throne room. The walls were covered with rich tapestries, which served as portraits of the past line of kings. Rich blue velvet curtains adorned the spaces between. The throne, a pedestal covered in purple velvet, was on a dais at the far end of the room under a stone relief carving of the Royal Arms. The path to the throne was covered in a soft carpet, and led straight down the center of the room. At the edges of the carpet were soft yellow lights every few feet. They served as the primary lighting of the room, and since it was night outside, the light seemed dim. Solev approached the throne, but did not step onto the dais. He stopped in front of the dais, and kneeled, closing his eyes and bowing in respect.
“You may rise, Solev” The king said. “After all of these years, you don’t know that you do not have to be so formal with me, old friend?”
“Your Majesty, I only display my respect for the throne.”
“But not the one sitting on it?” Solev worried for a moment, then realized the king was smiling.
“Of course, I meant the person sitting on the throne.” Solev finally smiled. He stood, and a courtier brought a seat for Solev to sit on. Solev accepted, realizing that anyone else who dare to sit in the king’s presence would have been shot. “Stoba, how have you been?” This was another error that only Solev was allowed to make. Solev had known the king when he was still a prince, and was the only person allowed to call him by his given name.
The king sighed, “About the same as usual. I have the guilds climbing my back about relations with the Lyrans, I have generals wanting to go to war with the Klingons, and a dozen diplomats from a dozen races come before me every day to ask for my blessing on their first born, or more funds for their pet projects. I think the most fun ones are when the guild masters come before me to try and weasel out of their regular tribute. You know the guildmaster of Consolidated was here this morning? He claimed a death in the family prevented him from making his quota.”
“Never any rest for the weary.” Solev said. “But you did not call me here to discuss pleasantries.”
“No I didn’t.” The king sighed. “Why don’t you go ahead and report on your meeting with the Lyran and Mirak representatives?”
Solev told him. He recounted the trip to Akkrev, the first contact with the Lyran and Mirak ships. He told the king of the fight that had nearly started when the Mirak, S’tyr, perceived an insult in one of Heath’s remarks. He told of the fight that had started in the skies above, and the consequences for the crews.
“I think after this, that peace is almost attainable, but we need to let the idea mature longer in the minds of the various peoples.” Solev concluded.
“Perhaps. Solev, have you kept abreast of the latest news?”
“I have heard some of the events. Mutinies all across the board. Anti-Lyran sentiment within the fleet. That is to be expected.”
“Maybe, but I have a new job for you nonetheless. You see most of the mutineers are new crewmembers, picked up from Hydraxaport, on the Lyran border. I want you to go there, and perform an inquest. I want you to find out if this really is Anti-Lyran sentiment, or if the guildmaster who runs the port is ‘arranging’ these mutinies. I want the source found and stopped.”
“As you wish.” Solev accepted his new orders with little hesitation. His duty was to the King, and he would die to complete his duties. “Am I to have discretionary powers over the members of the inquisition?”
“You are, I want you to choose only those you most trust. Also, I am reinstating you as Commodore. You have the capability to assemble a task force if necessary. Hydraxaport is very near Lyran space, and I believe that the Lyrans feel much the same way as our mutineers do. I want you to be able to handle any situation you come across.”
“I will do my best, Highness. But if I am to be Commodore again, will I be assigned a new ship?”
“Not if you don’t want to. We have a new ship just rolling out of the shipyards next week, a Cavalier-class carrier. It will be assigned to that sector anyway…You could have it if you wanted.”
Solev considered the glory of a carrier command, two dozen Stinger-class fighters roaring at the enemy. It was an intriguing possibility, but would have an inexperienced crew, being just out of the shipyards. They wouldn’t be green, but not able to handle many situations. “If you don’t mind, I think I would like to stay with the StarFinder. I know her well enough, and I won’t have to depend on the escorts to stay alive.”
“Whatever you wish, you were one of our greatest commanders. I respect your decision. But if you stay on the StarFinder, then Captain Toburon will have to be reassigned. Will he have a problem with that?”
“He might. He may think that I used my connections to take his ship. But we are friends, so I think I can handle him. I will tell you that I don’t think he is cut out for a carrier command. It would be a waste to put him on that Cavalier.”
“Well, then I have another question for you. Have you heard of Starbase Gibraltar?”
“Very little.”
“Starbase Gibraltar will be an inter-empire base. All of the alpha quadrant races have been invited to send a representative to patrol the area for ISC incursion. I was thinking that in the interest of our peace talks, we should send a ship.”
“And you want to know if Zen could handle the post?”
“Exactly.”
Solev thought for a few moments. Zen would be angry to be sure, but he has the capability to work alongside his traditional enemies. “Perhaps. You have a ship ready to go?”
“HMS Ranger. She has been refitted and repaired, and staffed with one of our top crews. All she needs is a competent commander and a good command crew. Zen would be able to take his choice of officers with him.”
“I will handle the details then…” A guard outside the doors interrupted him with a small tap on the heavy doors. That was a signal that someone was approaching. The guards understood Solev’s relationship with the King, and helped them maintain a professional appearance to others. His signal meant that it was time to assume traditional court etiquette before their visitor arrived. Solev stood quickly and stepped down from the dais. “Go, and may your god help you in any way he can.”
“May His Majesty live beyond the measure of his wisdom.” It was a traditional goodbye between the two of them. Solev turned to leave the throne room, his mind held many thoughts of things to come. As he walked out, he passed the visitor. There was a brief spark of recognition. It was Guildmaster Morian of Consolidated Workers. Solev grinned; Morian was probably back again with proof this time of his recent loss…
Solev and Zen sat in the hydroponics bay of the capitol starbase in orbit above the palace. They had just spent an hour playing Hoirlis, a mix of a game similar to Terran basketball, zero-G maneuvers, and tennis. Zen had won. The two sat in the gardens catching their breath, sweat dripping from under their workout uniforms.
“I can’t believe you let me get that maneuver past you.” Zen said, filtering some nutrients from the air.
“It was an excellent move. I am getting out of shape.” Solev agreed.
“You know that’s just an excuse.”
“Not anymore. You have to remember, you are twenty years younger than I am.”
“Maybe, but you almost always win, even at your age. The only time you lose is when you have something on your mind. You know I can sense it. You may as well tell me.”
Solev sighed heavily. “Zen, I don’t know how to say what I need to say.”
“The best way is usually just to start talking.”
“That is true. Zen, I have been reinstated as Commodore by His Majesty.”
“What’s wrong with that? That’s great news!” Zen slapped Solev on the back, then thought of something. “Well, the upcoming war isn’t good news, but at least you’ll be away from your desk now. That has to be an improvement. So are you taking that new carrier that’s scheduled for her maiden voyage?”
“No. I am taking the StarFinder.”
Zen blinked all three eyes in surprise. “So I get the new ship?” Excitement began to rise in his face. “I get a carrier command? That’s fantastic! By Tore, that’s the best command someone like me could get. The glory of an entire detachment of Stingers! I can’t believe…”
“You aren’t getting the new ship.” Solev interrupted.
“What do you mean?” Zen’s face began to change, concern beginning to crawl over it like some creature from the darkness of space.
“That carrier is being deployed to the Klingon border. There have been reports of increased fighter and PF activity in that region. It’s going to Commander Viska, and her Avengers.”
Zen sat back down, he thought he knew what was coming, and he wasn’t happy about it. “So what is going to happen to me?”
Solev took in a deep breath, and contemplated his next words very carefully. “Have you heard about Starbase Gibraltar?”
“Very little, why?”
“His Majesty feels it best that we send a ship to participate in this joint operation against the ISC. He asked that I choose the most appropriate man for the job. I chose you, because I know you best, and have seen first hand your skill in tactics.” Solev slid a small data disk across the bench toward Zen. “These are your orders. You are to take command of the HMS Ranger at earliest possible convenience, and proceed to Starbase Gibraltar. Contained on this disk are complete details of the mission, your crew, and your planned route to the base.”
Zen stared at the disk dumbly. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. One eye slowly rotated up toward Solev. It was rimmed with a mix of emotions. Anger, surprise, confusion. Zen and Solev had been friends for almost twenty years, ever since Zen had graduated from the academy to join the Royal Navy. They had been through thick and thin together. And it cut deep into Solev’s triple hearts to see the hatred in Zen’s eyes.
“You mean to tell me that you wanted the StarFinder so badly that you would do something like this to your friend?” The hurt was evident in his voice. “I thought I meant more to you than that!”
“Zen, you do.” Solev reached out to console Zen. Zen moved away. “I needed the best I could find for that job. I needed you to take that position. His Majesty wants the best commander we have to show the other races at Gibraltar how much we intend to honor our alliances. Here, I know this won’t change anything, but I did manage to arrange this with fleet command.” Solev took a small box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside were the rank insignia of Commodore, a promotion.
“I…I…” Zen closed his mouths for a moment. “I hope we never meet again.” Zen walked away, the pins still in the box.
Later that night, Solev could not sleep. The events of the day kept moving past his eyes. He was following his orders. He was doing his duty to the crown. So why did it feel like he had betrayed his best friend?
“A diplomats duty is not one of friendship, but one of peace. They say warriors cannot afford friendships, for a friend can be killed, and ruin morale. It is especially so for a diplomat. His duty to the crown does not permit him the luxury of friends.” - Toxista Ewelyx, Instructor, Royal Hydran Naval Academy.