“Two more Gerontocracy Cruisers jumping-in on the Starboard ventral quadrant Captain – they are actively targeting us. Permission to go to Red Alert and lock-in a firing solution?”

Ensign J’hvohuk reported tersely as the deck of the USS Sacramento pitched noticeably as Ensign O’Mara slewed the venerable old California – Class utility cruiser into a steep turn to avoid collision with the pair of Primarion warcraft blocking their forward progress.

Commander Nathan Allen gripped the edges of his Command Chair and considered his options – which were dwindling fast – the Primarion Prime Home – fleet seemingly intent on goading the Federation interloper into conflict.

“Belay that TAC.” The CO shook his head, “Ship to remain at Yellow Alert, Sheilds to full harmonics.”

I think we’ve caused enough damage for one day – Nate reflected sourly.

The sense of tension was palpable across the faces of the bridge crew as the viewscreen showed the verdant hazed pearl of the Primarion Homeworld and its sprawling, vast oceans far below – the view (and the Sac’s pedestrian mission of diplomacy) somewhat marred by the proliferation of warcraft converging to blockade the vessel.

Aware that he had to take some affirmative action to reassure his crew, Nate added “TAC – Give me a full Tac/ Eval of the opposing Primarion vessels’ capabilities. Let me know what we are dealing with here.”

“Aye Sir.” J’hvohuk, thankful of something to do.

“Lieutenant Hyland, hail the lead ship in the formation.” Nate turned to face Samantha.

“Aye Captain…” Sam attempted to open a channel of communication with the largest ship in the Primarion blockade. “No reply Captain.” Sam confirmed regretfully.

Dammit! – Nate reflected – how had it come to this?

What had started as a relatively routine mission to ferry the opposing Primarion factions from the peace – summit back to their Homeworld had steadily unraveled and now was threatening to transform into a full-blown diplomatic disaster – possibly even a prelude to armed hostilities.

That the secondary objectives to deliver the science team to the Reliquary of Ost on Primar – Majoris #7 and to complete the deployment of the Subspace Communication Network throughout the Primarion system had been achieved, provided scant assurance for the beleaguered Starfleet Commander. Somehow Nate doubted that the planned activation of the network – with all of the pomp and celebration that had been planned – would now go ahead.

The delegation from the Gerontocracy had departed the USS Sacramento as soon as they had made orbit, Gentarch Oramed incandescent that Nate had refused to surrender his prisoner to face summary judgement for the assault on his diplomat (who had recovered sufficiently from his assault for Dr Eboneke to clear him for transport to the first of the converging Genotracracy Naval vessels to arrive and form part of the blockade now hemming in the ‘Sac) and Representative Ge’nan demanding that he and the remainder of the Va’Saal be granted political asylum aboard the USS Sacramento on the grounds of persecution & a well-founded fear of future persecution.

It looked, Nate reflected darkly, that the first message carried by the Subspace array from the Primarion to the Federation might well be a declaration of war.

“Captain?” Ensign J’hvohuk broke Nathan’s reverie with his assessment of the opposing vessels threat potential.

“The majority of the vessels are Antia – Class Primarion Interdiction Frigates, Tech – equivalent Warp – 4 capable, Main armament two – Photon Torpedo Tubes Fore, One Aft, Four Phaser Arrays on Dorsal and Ventral beams – roughly equivalent to type IV, Standard Shielding / Non-phasic. In short – they present little threat on their own.” The young Hybrid Klingon noted with satisfaction – obviously relishing the potential for that conflict, if only in his mind’s eye.

“And in these numbers?” The CO considered the screen of 8 x Frigates that surrounded his command.

J’hvohuk stroked his short beard absently as he totted up the odds.

“If we acted with aggression and deliberate action Captain, I estimate that we could neutralize all enemy vessels by focused fire on their shields and then point – fire with our forward phasers targeting their engine nacelles. Total engagement time – three point seven minutes, minimal casualties – zero structural damage to ourselves – our shields can sustain their massed fire.”

“Except they are not the enemy Ensign.” Nate had a warning tone as he faced his tactical officer. The present situation hung on a knife’s edge, one mistake now and Commander Nathan Allen may very well earn the distinction of presiding over a brand-new war with a race he had been sent to befriend.

“Not yet at least.” The Commander muttered to himself, the net grew tighter, and the 11th hour counted down.

What he needed now, were options.

USS Sacramento

 (Primarion – Prime Orbit)

Captain’s Ready Room,

Stardate: 2401.6.12

21:02 Hrs. (Shipboard Time)

“Options people.” Nathan Allen put his hands on his desk, his dark – brows knotted in consternation as he surveyed his senior officers, summoned here for their council. “I need options and I need them yesterday.”

Ensign De Vries cleared his throat. The young Security Chief had previously met Nate outside the Ship’s Brig as soon as he had been summoned from the Holosuite – to find a near riotous mob of Gerontocrats and Separatists crowding the narrow hall, their belligerent loud altercation having roused a number of crew from their hallway – bunks to peer blearily out past their privacy curtains and wonder what the hell what going on?

“Well Captain,” Jan began with a frown of his own creasing his fine, strong features. “In terms of criminality, it’s a clear case of assault with intent.” Jan sighed, this case (as with so many others) was anything but clear – cut when motivations of aggressor and victim were taking into account. “Representative Fur’an admits to assaulting Secretary Quissel in the Starboard Lounge on Deck C at the close of the social reception. Secretary Quissel was struck from behind by Fur’an by a decorative Onyx Statuette with some deliberate force. The security footage is unequivocable.” The young South African concluded regretfully.

“And what is Secretary Quissel’s current condition Doctor?” Commander Allen asked Dr Eboneke, who was following the briefing session from Sickbay.

“Stable Captain.” Abey confirmed from the screen on the Ready room wall, the backdrop the CMO’s Office framing the Doctor as he made his report. Jan noted a particularly garish watercolor that was his husbands first attempt at the Cardassian Early Pre – Unionism Expressionist school. That was why Jan had insisted that it not hang in their shared quarters.

“The Secretary suffered a traumatic intracranial injury to his brain as a result of the impact, “Dr Eboneke explained, “The trauma caused a primary brain injury resulting in hematoma and fragmentation of the inner skull – lining, with several micro-shards penetrating the Postcentral Gyrus causing further Intracerebral hemorrhage.”

“That sounds serious.” Nate offered, not really following the Doctors evaluation.

“Relatively easy to stabilize.” Dr Eboneke waved a hand dismissively, “Of larger concern was the release of neurotransmitters (the chemicals used by brain cells to communicate) that cause secondary injury. Imbalances in some neurotransmitters can lead to excitotoxicity, damage to brain cells that results from overactivation of biochemical receptors for excitatory neurotransmitters but I….” Abey paused suddenly and sighed as he surveyed the confounded faces on his screen.

“He’s stable Captain, with continued treatment he should pull through with relatively little, long – term complication.”

“Thank you, Doctor, that will be all.” Nate keyed the channel closed and nodded.

“So we have a clear-cut case of assault.” The Commander summarized, thus far “And it looks like the victim will pull through.” He turned back to the Security Chief. “Ensign De-Vries, you have had the opportunity to interrogate Representative Fur’an. What did he have to say for himself?”

Jan De Vries puffed his cheeks out and replied “Representative Fur’an openly admits to the assault Captain.” Jan explained with a slightly pained expression on his face “He even expresses some degree of regret that it occurred.”

“Did he share with you exactly why he took it upon himself to try to remodel the back of the Secretary’s head with an ornamental bust of Doctor Noonien Soong? What on earth would motivate such an attack?” Nathan Allen asked with tired rhetoric.

“Well Captain.” Jan winced and shifted uncomfortably in his seat “Representative Fur’an’s wife, Alba’d is a Traditionalist (the majority Va’Saal faction contrary to that of her Separatist husband) and is in the employ of Secretary Quissel’s Family – an arrangement spanning several subjective generations for both parties apparently.”

“So?” Nate snapped irritably, failing to follow Jan’s point of reasoning. “Fur’an’s wife does not share his Separatist worldview and is in the employ of his political nemesis, I hardly find that as a reasonable excuse for attempted murder?” The CO frowned.

There was a long pause.

“It’s not that Sir…” Jan winced.

“Then WHAT Jan?” Nathan Allen rubbed his eyes tiredly “What IS it then?”

“Representative Fur’an’s wife is pregnant Captain.” De Vries looked thoroughly wretched.

“Well congratulations to her but I still…..” Nate managed to say before the Security Chief cut him off.

“Alba’d is pregnant with the child of Secretary Quissel.”

That shut Nathan up.

USS Sacramento

(Primarion – Prime Orbit)

Conference Room One,

Stardate: 2401.6.12

21:42 Hrs. (Shipboard Time)

“You misunderstand Commander Allen.” Gentarch Oramed sighed expansively, taking the tone that one might adopt when speaking to a small child who did not understand the circumstance of his own ignorance. “For a Va’Saal female to consent to bear the child of a B’Queth is considered a great honor in our society.” He spread his chubby, generously bejeweled hands expansively wide, as if to punctuate this truth through gesticulation.

For not the first time that day, Captain Nathan Allen considered in his mind eye, grabbing the obsequiously patronizing Gentarch by his generous throat and dragging him bodily to the airlock – but he forced this unhelpful image from his thoughts.

“So Alba’d has consented to this…arrangement?” The Captain confirmed in a level voice.

Nathan had asked the leader of the Gerontocracy delegation to this closed meeting in an attempt to stave off the inevitable conflict and save a man’s life if he could.

The Gentarch looked genuinely shocked and disquieted by this line of questioning.

“Of COURSE she consented!” Oramed fumed “It is a central precept to our entire society; it is key to our culture. The Va’Saal female consents to carry our seed and gestate the next generation of B’Queth. In return she and her entire family line are assured status, protection and financial security for that act and in perpetuity – to suggest it could be otherwise or be FORCED upon another is, is…. it’s abhorrent Captain!”

“You don’t think that this constitutes a mitigating circumstance for Representative Fur’an’s attack on Secretary Quissel?”

Gentarch Oramed stared at Commander Allen as if he had just sprung an extra head and had begun to sing a Klingon Opera in the medium of Binary Machine – code.

“MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCE ?!” Oramed shrieked, a wave of fury riding his jowls and making his neck – fronds twitch spasmodically.

Nate made a calming motion with his hands, patting the air and gently trying to gesture the incandescent B’Queth diplomat back into the negotiating chair.

“Droit du seigneur.” Lieutenant Cerine Duval commented shortly from the other end of the table, causing both Human and B’Queth to stop suddenly, mid – tirade and stare at her.

Nate found himself wondering why his taciturn Chief Science Officer had not chosen to interject until now, when the negotiation was rapidly evolving from “heated” to “conflagratory”?

“What…?” Oramed spluttered, his ire unhorsed in that instance.

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant?” Nate raised a terse eyebrow toward the Frenchwoman, and she waved her hand dismissively and finished her sip of tea.

Setting down her cup in a show of unconcern, Cerine continued ““Droit du seigneur – in the Latin ‘jus primae noctis’, more commonly known to the lay-person as Prima Nocta.” Cerine smiled as if this cryptic lesson in classicism was not as gnomic as it was un-sought.

Nate did have to admit, it had stopped Gentarch Oramed in mid – rant, which was no mean feat in and of itself.

“Would you care to elaborate Lieutenant?” Nate prompted, barely mastering his irritation.

“Donc, C’est – ca.” Dr Cerine Duval nodded and flicked her blonde hair from her forehead with typical gallic flair. “The right of the Lord.” She smiled “The right of the First Night?”

“Commander is this strictly necessary?” Oramed protested, gathering for a fresh tirade.

“Prima Nocta, was a supposed legal right in medieval Europe of ancient Earth Gentarch Oramed” The Scientist continued unperturbed, “allowing feudal lords to have sexual relations with any female subject, particularly on her wedding night.”

“How fascinating, but I still fail to see how this…. whatever this is..applies to the here and now?” The Gentarch snapped.

Cerine Duval was not a woman to be daunted and she proceeded, quite undeterred.

“While there are many references to the custom throughout the centuries, scholars since the 1800s have questioned whether such a law ever truly existed or was practiced, with many believing it was simply a trope used to make rulers seem more barbaric. Over the centuries, it became commonly portrayed in European literature as a practice that had occurred in earlier times and/or outside Europe. In practice, it may have been the feudal lords using their power and influence over serfs to sexually exploit the women free of consequences, as opposed to a legitimate legal right.” Cerine smiled.

“I find myself in the strange and uncomfortable position of having to agree with the Gentarch, Cerine.” Nate frowned “How is this relevant.”

“Oh!” Dr Duval smiled a megawatt smile and made a “Laissez – Tombe” gesture “is it not obvious Captain? We view the Primarion custom of Binary reproduction as abhorrent, something to be suffered – because our sociological development had evolved tropes that tell us that such an act must surely be an act of subjugation of the will – ergo it is wrong.”

“Ah! Now the female is making sense!” Gentarch Oramed crowed, beginning to realize that this abject lesson seemed to be favoring his viewpoint.

“Il est ci.” Cerine nodded, “It is true that we fail to appreciate the Weltanschauung – the ‘World View., typical to both Primarion races, both B’Queth and Va’Saal.”

Nate looked even more confounded, whilst the B’Queth diplomat looked more and more pleased with himself.

“However!” Cerine raised a finger and brought Oramed to a stop like an owner calling its dog to heel.

“Consider the meaning of Weltanschauung – Literally “”to take a good look at.” Primarily it means a way a person looks at the phenomenon of life as a whole.”

Cerine leant forward, causing the Gentarch to flinch visibly and sit back in his seat.

“Some people (particularly those who have not lived very long) have not formed any broad (inclusive, even “sophisticated”) view of life. In the case of the Va’Saal – they have spent the last 20 years considering a different way of life through First Contact with the Federation – to whit – their Weltanschauung is changing. Enshrined now by five generations of their short lives now. What they were prepared to accept before, they are less inclined to suffer now Gentarch.”

“As I have said on COUNTLESS occasions Captain Allen.” Gentarch Oramed expounded, unaware that he stood on the precipice of Cerines point of logic, his own position precarious.

“The corruption visited upon our once peaceful society by the invasive, perverse concepts of Human – so – called – culture! This type of attack would have been unthinkable before your people infected the gentle Va’Saal with your alien concepts! As such we must punish this crime as an abject lesson, less other Va’Saal feel so emboldened to repeat this outrage. A sentence of death is the only recourse.”

The prick even managed to make that sound magnanimous! – Nate rankled privately.

“Maybe that is so Gentarch Oramed.” Cerine Duval smiled acidly and sat back down and took another sip of her tea. “History has so many abject lessons for those willing to open their minds to its teachings.” The Frenchwoman nodded and set her cup down. “In the history of my own people, Les Français – Par exemple, we had a particularly elucidating chapter of our own history that illustrates what is inevitable when the Ancien Régime failed to read the tide of history and take into consideration the frustrations of those under them.”

Somehow, something in the female’s easy smile unsettled the contents of the Gentarch’s three stomachs, then she shrugged and sat back in her chair and looked around the room – the very picture of unconcerned diffidence.

“Vive la révolution.” Cerine sipped her tea innocently and smiled brightly at Commander Allen over the rim of her cup, “Excusez-moi, ma capitaine, do we have any Petite Madeleine?”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

USS Sacramento

(Primarion – Prime Orbit)

Bridge,

Stardate: 2401.6.12

23:55 Hrs. (Shipboard Time)

Commander Nathan Allen had run out of options, that much was abundantly clear to him now.

That he was faced with the threat of a large number of militarily – inferior opponents were of little actual consequence in practical terms. The apparent technology gap between the encircling blockade of Primarion vessels and the venerable old tug that was the Federation vessel was so vast as to be infinitesimal – the USS Sacramento could easily disable its aggressors and hardly even register a blip on its power output.

Commander Nate Allen’s predicament was one of Diplomacy, one that had faced leaders in similar situations throughout known history – how to subdue an enemy without recourse to violence, even when he was the one holding the Big Stick? Whilst the USS Sacramento was only a Utility Cruiser, she was a Utility Cruiser attached to duty with Task Force 72 and diplomacy was their business – whatever the provocation.

Outside the menace of the Gerontocracy Naval Blockade presented a singular threat, seemingly unwilling to negotiate with weapons charged and at the ready.

“If you need something from somebody, always give that person a way to hand it to you.” Nate mused, recalling something he had once read in an old novel that he had quite liked* and turned to his Comms Officer. “Lieutenant Hyland?”

“Aye Sir?” Sam sat alert at her station, ready and alert to attend to her duty.

“I’m sick of dealing with the Monkeys,” Nate smiled with grim resolve, garnering a surprised look from Lt Commander Vodrova at his side, “Time to talk to the Organ – Grinder. Lieutenant, record this message and transmit to the Office of the High Gentarch of the Planetary Gerontocracy in the Capital.”

“Aye Sir.” Sam smiled and began to key in the comms – handshake protocols, “What shall I indicate the intent of the message to be Sir?”

“Inform the Grand Gentarch that we have considered the position of the Gerontocracy in regard to the Va’Saal Separatist delegation claiming asylum aboard this vessel. Tell them that, whilst the United Federation of Planets recognizes that the Va’Saal do not qualify for the same rights and protections as a member state of the UFP, I have considered the validity of their case for asylum and am willing to grant that protection on the merit that this vessel is considered sovereign territory of the United Federation of Planets and as the Captain of a United Federation Starfleet Vessel I am both willing and able to ensure that protection.”

Sam smiled a wide smile as she keyed the Commanders official response with a hearty “Aye, Aye Sir!”

Nate held up a cautioning finger and continued.

“Furthermore, in the case of the assault on the person of Secretary Quissel of the Gerontocracy delegation aboard this vessel by Representative Fur’an of the Separatist Tendency of the Va’Saal, I conclude that a crime did occur aboard this ship – contrary to Federation Law and the legislature of the Primarion. Accordingly, I am willing to surrender Representative Fur’an to the custody of the Gerontocracy…”

“No Captain! You cannot! They’ll kill him!” Ensign De Vries stood bolt upright at his station, his face a mask of horror.

“Ensign De Vries, you forget yourself! “Lt Commander Vodrova was out of her chair and had crossed the bridge to the Security Chief in an instant. “You are relieved and confined to quarters until further notice. Crewman Hask, take his station.” The terse Russian XO commanded with absolute authority.

Commander Allen regarded this development dispassionately and turn back to the shocked Comms Officer and continued.

“As I was saying,” Nate prompted, “ I am willing to surrender Representative Fur’an to the custody of the Gerontocracy…on the strict proviso that he is afforded the right of due process through the proceeding of a trial of his peers without period of delay and that he will be accompanied by a Federation Officer from my crew – whose purpose is to see to his protection during his incarceration and to ensure that Fur’an receives fair and objective defense representation during his trial. Message ends – Send it Lieutenant.” Commander Nathan Allen nodded with finality.

“Aye Sir…. Sending.” Sam’s face was pale as she sent the Commander’s demands.

Nate turned to his rear where the glacial Lieutenant Sorvak was regarding his CO with a look of interest and a habitually cocked – eyebrow.

“Dust off your briefs Lieutenant Sorvak,” Nate ordered his Vulcan Ops Chief, “You’re going to Court.”

“Just so Captain.” Sorvak nodded as if all of this was perfectly within the realms of reasonability and then he too handed his station to a subordinate and left the bridge.

(*Quote from ‘The Secret Life of Bee’s’ – by Sue Monk Kidd – 2001)