Star Trek - TNG - A Time for War,A Time for Peace

Contents

Historian’s Note

Chapter 1 Qo’noS

Chapter 2 U.S.S. Enterprise

Chapter 3 Earth

Chapter 4 Qo’noS

Chapter 5 Earth

Chapter 6 Qo’noS

Chapter 7 U.S.S. Enterprise

Chapter 8 Earth

Chapter 9 U.S.S. Enterprise

Chapter 10 Qo’noS

Chapter 11 U.S.S. Enterprise

Chapter 12 Qo’noS

Chapter 13 Sarona VIII

Chapter 14 U.S.S. Enterprise

Chapter 15 Earth

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

“Mr. Ambassador!”

“What do you want?” Worf asked Kl’rt by way of greeting.

“Supervisor Vark needs to see you right away, sir.”

“Regarding what?”

“I don’t know that, sir, I only know that it’s urgent.”

Worf turned his back on Kl’rt. “I have an appointment that is more urgent. Tell Vark to make an

appointment with Mr. Murphy.”

“Sir, Supervisor Vark told me to fetch you and not come back without you. He’ll kill me if I disobey.”

Closing his eyes, Worf thought,I do not have time for this. He turned to face Kl’rt. “Then you will die,

for I will not see Vark now.”

Then he saw it.

Worf hesitated for only a moment, but that was apparently enough for Kl’rt, who removed the small

weapon from under his shirt and fired it at Worf.

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A Time for War, A Time for Peace

by Keith R.A. DeCandido

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or

dead, is entirely coincidental.

AnOriginal Publication of POCKET BOOKS

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Schuster, Inc.

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Dedicated with great affection and true sensawunda to the Mars RoversSpiritand Opportunity,which

both landed on the red planet while I was working on this book, and to the wonderful explorers at

NASA responsible for them. The pictures they sent inspired me all the more to keep writing about a

future where we will travel among the stars.

Historian’s Note

The bulk of this novel takes place in the weeks leading up to the feature filmStar Trek Nemesis —a bit

less than four years after “What You Leave Behind” (the final episode ofStar Trek: Deep Space Nine), a

bit less than two years after “Endgame” (the final episode ofStar Trek: Voyager ), and about one year

afterA Time to Be Born (the first book in this series).Nemesis takes place on Stardate 56844.9, which

places it in late 2379 on the human calendar.

And after the strife of war begins the strife of peace.

—Carl Sandburg

Chapter 1

Qo’noS

SUNRISE ONQO’NoShad lost its appeal for Ambassador Worf.

There was a time, not so long ago, when the best part of his day was the very beginning, when he would

enter his office in the Federation embassy and watch the sun blaze over the horizon through the huge

picture window that took up most of the office’s back wall. In the almost four years he had served as

Federation ambassador to the Klingon Empire, the one part of his daily routine that he could count on

enjoying was the spectacular view of the sun casting its fiery glow across the First City at the top of the

day.

Recent events had dimmed that enthusiasm considerably. The actions of others less honorable had

forced Worf into a position where he had to compromise himself in order to serve the greater good. The

alternative was to allow an even greater evil, and he could not permit that to happen, regardless of the

consequences.

It was a state of affairs that was all too familiar to the son of Mogh.

A little more than a month ago, he had used his position—as an ambassador, and as a member of the

Klingon chancellor’s House—to give his former crewmates on theU.S.S. Enterprise a weapon of sorts

that they could use to prevent a Klingon Defense Force fleet from engaging in a suicidal attack on the

planet Tezwa. Officially, no one could prove that he provided theEnterprise with the prefix codes that

would disable the fleet; unofficially, it couldn’t have been anyone else.

How many times?he asked himself.How many times have I sacrificed my own honor to protect the

unworthy? And how many times will I have to do it again?

“It’s supposed to be fairly hot today,” came a voice from behind him.

Sighing, Worf turned around. Another part of the routine: his aide, Giancarlo Wu, would enter the office

and make some offhand comment about the weather, thus signaling the start of the workday. Wearing his

usual monochrome shirt, matching pants, and different-colored vest—today he went for red and

green—Wu stood in the doorway to the office, reaching into the vest’s pocket.

However, he did not pull out his padd, as Worf had expected—that padd was always either in Wu’s

hand or in his vest pocket, to the point that the ambassador honestly believed that his aide would suffer

withdrawal symptoms if separated from it for any length of time. Instead, Wu removed an optical chip

and walked it over to where Worf sat at his desk. “I think you’ll want to see this first thing, sir. It was

sent to you on a secure channel by T’Latrek.”

After regarding the chip for a moment, Worf plugged it into the slot on the side of his terminal. Besides

representing Vulcan on the Federation Council, T’Latrek served as the councillor for external affairs and

was, in essence, Worf’s superior.

The screen lit up with the logo of the Federation News Service.Odd, Worf thought.Why would

T’Latrek send me a news story?

A female Pandrilite face replaced the logo.“The top story is the surprise resignation of Federation

President Min Zife. In a move that has shocked the entire quadrant, President Zife, his chief of staff, Koll

Azernal, and Nelino Quafina, the secretary of military intelligence, have stepped down from office,

effective immediately. This statement was issued across the Federation this morning.”

The image then cut to Zife sitting at his desk in the presidential office in Paris, his arms placed in front of

him, resting on the large desk, which was currently empty of anything save the Bolian’s blue-skinned

hands. The flag of the Federation hung on a pole behind the president, in front of the huge window that

provided a panorama of the City of Light that made Worf’s own view of the First City pale in

comparison. The Tour Eiffel was the only landmark in sight.

“It is with a sense of both regret and joy that I announce my resignation as president of the United

Federation of Planets, as well as the resignation of Koll Azernal, my chief of staff, and Nelino Quafina,

my military intelligence secretary. Regret because achieving this office has been the culmination of a

lifetime of service to the Federation, and one that has been incredibly rewarding for myself and, I hope,

for the Federation, particularly during the dark days of our war against the Dominion.

“Joy because I feel that this resignation is perhaps the greatest of those services that I can now give to

the Federation. While my chief of staff and I were able to serve our nation well in war, we were, it

seems, less suited for peace. As the war grows more distant in our past, it has become increasingly

obvious that Koll and I need to step down for the good of the Federation. The model by which we

survived during the war, and even during the first few months afterward, is no longer tenable as we and

our allies attempt to bring a new era of peace.

“One of the truisms of sentient life throughout the galaxy is that different leadership is required for

different circumstances. On Bolarus, one of our most revered historical figures is a monarch from a time

before the planet was united, named Queen Vaq. She led the nation of Alnat to its most prosperous era

after winning several consecutive wars. What most forget is that when Alnat became the greatest power

on Bolarus, and all her enemies were defeated, Vaq was forced to abdicate, for without an enemy to

fight, she led the nation to economic ruin.

“Unlike Vaq, I will not wait for a coup d’état to remove me from power. I was given a mandate from the

people of the Federation—not once, but twice—to lead them through uneasy times, to make quick and

difficult decisions for the greater good. Now, though, serving that mandate has proven more problematic.

Quick and difficult decisions are not what is best for the Federation, nor for our allies. The time has come

when I can best serve the people’s mandate by stepping down, by allowing the people to choose

someone who can lead us in peace as effectively as I was able to in war.

“As per the Federation charter, an election will be held within the month. The Federation Council will

continue to administrate on a pro tem basis until a new president has been elected.

“I thank you all very much for your support, your patience, and your understanding. Good-bye.”

Back to the Pandrilite:“The Federation Council made no comment regarding the resignations, but did

release a statement: Councillor Ra’ch B’ullhy has been appointed president pro tempore, and the Council

will be accepting petitions for presidential candidates immediately. The ballot containing the names of

those who fit the criteria for candidacy will be announced by the Council one week from today. The

election will be held at the end of the month.

“At present, the front-runners for presidential candidacy include T’Latrek of Vulcan, the current

councillor for external affairs, who has held that position for eight decades; Nan Bacco, the planetary

governor of Cestus III; Fel Pagro, the chief special emissary for Ktar; and Admiral William Ross of

Starfleet. Naturally, speculation is already running rampant as to what led President Zife and Chief of

Staff Azernal to their decision at this particular juncture, especially with the next election less than a year

away.”

The screen reverted to the FNS logo, then went blank.

Worf leaned back in his large leather chair. “A—convincing fabrication.”

“Sir?”

“Zife and Azernal’s reasons for resigning begin and end with Tezwa.”

“I suspected as much, sir. Still, the general public can’t very well be aware of that, can they?”

Worf folded his arms. “No. This willing resignation is a far more palatable solution than admitting to

secretly arming the Tezwans.” If Martok or the Klingon High Council ever found out that the Federation

president armed an enemy of the empire, it could lead to yet another abrogation of the Khitomer

Accords, and possibly war between the Federation and the empire. Neither nation was in a position to

wage a prolonged war against the other, and the collapse of their alliance would destabilize the Alpha

Quadrant at a time when it could ill afford such a thing.

Yet another secret I must keep from a man I have called brother,Worf thought bitterly. “I sometimes

regret the day I chose to enter the realm of politics,” he muttered.

Wu tilted his head. “I should think that after all these years, sir, you’d be used to it.”

Glowering at his aide, Worf said, “The time since I accepted the ambassadorship is hardly ‘all these

years.’ ”

“My apologies, sir, I thought you said you regretted entering the realm of politics. That happened when

you entered the Great Hall thirteen years ago in order to defend your father against accusations that he

aided the Romulans at Khitomer.”

Worf’s glower intensified. “Excuse me?”

Wu put his hands in his vest pockets. “You accepted discommendation in order to cover up the crimes

of the House of Duras and preserve unity on the High Council, but kept your brother—a high-ranking

officer in the Defense Force—shielded from the dishonor. When Gowron needed help during the civil

war, you were then able to use Kurn’s position to restore your House and keep House Duras from

gaining power.” He removed his hands from his pockets, taking the padd out with his right hand. “Each

of the last two chancellors, not to mention the emperor himself, owe their positions directly to you.

You’ve probably had more impact on the face of Klingon politics than any single person in the last twenty

years. Your accepting the ambassadorship was simply the continuation of a process you’d begun long

before.”

The aide’s words mirrored similar ones spoken to Worf by Ambassador Spock three years earlier on a

shuttle trip to a diplomatic conference. He had dismissed them then as exaggeration. He was tempted to

do so now, but hesitated. Neither Spock nor Wu were prone to such things. Indeed, Wu had always, at

Worf’s own insistence, been completely honest with the ambassador.

“This—analysis is your interpretation of what I have done over the years?” he finally asked.

Wu shrugged. “Not really—simply the facts as I and many others see them. I had always assumed that it

was why you were given this position in the first place. You’ve always been an excellent politician, sir.”

Although he had worked on Qo’noS and among Klingons for over a decade, Wu was still a human. For

that reason alone, Worf let the insult pass. That, and he’d never find an aide as talented.

As was Wu’s wont, he noticed that Worf was not pleased with the way the conversation was turning,

and so stared down at his padd and changed the subject. “There was a personal message accompanying

T’Latrek’s transmission, sir. She wishes to assure you that she has no intention of running for president,

any more than she has the other dozen times an election has occurred since she joined the Federation

Council, and also that she will contact you with further instructions on how to present this new

information to the High Council within the hour. This is useful, as the council has requested your presence

in the Great Hall at high sun.”

“Naturally.” Worf felt a growl build in his throat, but he tamped it down.

“I took the liberty of clearing all your appointments for today, save one, so you would be free to speak

to T’Latrek and the council. I assume that that particular business will preclude all others.”

Worf rose from his chair. “You assume correctly.” He started to pace the room, walking toward the

window. “What is the appointment you did not clear?”

At this, Wu smiled. “TheYa’Vang was recalled to Qo’noS for maintenance yesterday, and its crew

granted shore leave. Your son will be here in twenty minutes.”

Once, Worf might have greeted that news with apprehension, even anger. Alexander was born to

K’Ehleyr, Worf’s first love. When K’Ehleyr was slain by Duras on theEnterprise -D, Worf had avenged

her death in the proper manner, and also taken responsibility for their son. Alexander was raised

alternately by Worf on theEnterprise and by Worf’s human foster parents on Earth; neither solution

proved tenable. Sergey and Helena Rozhenko did the best they could, but they were too old to raise yet

another child, and Worf was simply unsuited to the role of father.

It was the Dominion War that gave Alexander purpose. He enlisted in the Defense Force, serving on

several ships during the conflict. Though the youth would never be mistaken for a great warrior, he did

eventually grow into a decent soldier.

In the years since the war, father and son had come to a certain peace, for which Worf was grateful. His

failures with Alexander had always gnawed at him, made him feel as if he had betrayed K’Ehleyr in some

way. She deserved better than that—as did their child. To make matters worse, theYa’Vang had been at

the fore-front of the fleet that the Defense Force had sent to Tezwa. Though Worf’s actions in stopping

the fleet were primarily committed in order to preserve the peace and save Klingon lives, that he was

able to rescue his son from a pointless death was never far from his thoughts.

The intercom on Worf’s desk beeped. The voice of Damir Gorjanc, one of the embassy staff, spoke:

“Sir, you have a coded message from Earth.”

“That,” Wu said, “will no doubt be T’Latrek.”

“No doubt.” To Gorjanc, Worf said, “Put it through.”

Expecting the Vulcanoid features of T’Latrek, Worf was surprised to instead see the teal-hued face and

horned head of another member of the Federation Council, one Worf had first met almost a decade

earlier.

“Councillor Ra’ch. It is good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Mr. Ambassador.”Ra’ch B’ullhy, the former governor of Damiano, smiled.“We’ve both

come a long way since you saved my life at my inauguration.” Worf, then security chief of theEnterprise,

had prevented an assassination attempt on Ra’ch’s life when she took office.“You’re an ambassador,

and I’m the president pro tem.”

“Congratulations.”

Ra’ch’s face went sour.“Easy for you to say—you’re safe on Qo’noS. Believe me, I didn’t want this.

But since I’m stuck with the responsibility, I wanted to let you know how this needs to be presented to

the High Council.”

Worf wondered if this was why Ra’ch rather than T’Latrek was making the call. While the notion that

Vulcans never lied, much like the notion that Klingons never did, was more ideal than reality, that didn’t

change the fact that most Vulcans were uncomfortable with falsehood.

“I assume,” he said dryly, “that the truth is to be avoided at all costs.”

“Good assumption. As far as Chancellor Martok is concerned, this is a decision that both Zife and

Azernal have been contemplating for quite a while, and they felt that the time was right to make the

announcement.”

“And if they ask why there were no indications of this—contemplation prior to now?”

“The fact that the president and his primary aide are about to resign is hardly something they want to

spread around. The tightest possible security was kept on this to maintain stability and not jeopardize the

president’s ability to do his job.”

Worf nodded. “He did not want to appear to be a lame duck.”

Ra’ch frowned.“I’m sorry?”

Shaking his head, Worf said, “My apologies. It is a human metaphor, applying to someone in a position

of power whose days in that position are known to be coming to an end.”

“Oh.”Ra’ch was still frowning.“I don’t see what a maimed waterfowl has to do with that.”

“Itis a human metaphor. They are often abstruse.”

“True. Is there anything else you need to know, Mr. Ambassador?”

There were, in fact, several things, but Worf had other sources he could call upon for them, ones less

busy than the person temporarily serving as president of the largest governmental body in the quadrant.

“No. I will be speaking before the council at high sun.”

“Good. I have every faith that you’ll continue to serve the Federation with honor.”

Worf wasn’t entirely sure he had always done so up until now, but said only: “Thank you, Madam

President.”

Ra’ch winced.“For Ho’nig’s sake, don’tcall me that. I’m still a councillor, and I plan to stay one. Call

the poor unfortunate who wins the election that—they’re welcome to it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have

about a dozen other ambassadors to talk to.” She smiled.“It’s good to see you again, Worf.”

“Likewise, Councillor.”

With that, the screen went blank.

Worf turned to Wu. “Have Bey write an official statement incorporating Councillor Ra’ch’s comments. I

wish to see it within the hour.” Diplomacy included a great deal of written composition, which was not

Worf’s strong suit. He could write a Starfleet report that was the envy of other officers for its

completeness and attention to detail, he could write decent verse if the poem’s subject was sufficiently

inspiring, but the language of the official statement from the ambassador’s office continued to elude him.

Thankfully, such skills were not required. Bey Toh had been a speechwriter for two first ministers of

Bajor, and he joined the embassy staff shortly after that planet had joined the Federation. It hadn’t taken

him long to adapt Worf’s particular style of address to the written word.

Making notes on his padd, Wu said, “Of course, sir. Anything else?”

“I assume the resolutions that you had for me yesterday are still needed by the end of the day?”

Wu smiled. “It’s possible that they’ve fallen down the priority queue a bit with this morning’s events, sir,

but I haven’t heard anything specific.”

“Very well. I will review them while I wait for my son. Have someone send up somegagh from the

galley.”

Wu nodded. “Anything else?”

“That will be all.”

“Very good, sir.”

The aide took his leave. Worf turned back to the terminal and called up the resolutions he had

mentioned. If nothing else, it was probably best to get them out of the way; with Zife resigning, there

would be a great deal of new business that would require Worf’s attention. In particular he was

concerned about how some on the High Council might view the fact that there was a vacuum in the

Federation’s power structure, however temporary. There were many in the empire who believed that,

with the Dominion War over, there was no longer a need for the Federation and the empire to remain

allies, some who even believed that there should be a return to the days before Praxis, when the

Federation was just one of a list of enemies the empire intended to crush under its heel.

Tezwa would only add strength to those radicals’ positions.

As the Federation’s representative in the empire, it was Worf’s job to ensure that the empire remained a

steadfast ally. His position as a member of the chancellor’s House, and Martok’s own strong feelings

about the need for the Federation alliance, would make that jobeasier, but that did not make said job in

any wayeasy.

At some point, his office chime rang. “Enter.”

A young Klingon woman entered the room, carrying a tray. Worf glanced to see the vermicular

creatures in the bowl that sat in the tray’s center. Though the replicators could provide adequate

sustenance when necessary, sometimes there was just no substitute for livegagh.

Worf did not recognize the steward. Since he prided himself on knowing the entire embassy staff by

sight, he asked, “Who are you?”

The woman stood with her arms folded in front of her. “I am Karra.” No mother, no House, which

meant she was a commoner—hardly surprising, given her position as an embassy steward. Those of

noble blood would not serve in such jobs, leaving them either to commoners or tojeghpu’wI’. “I began

my employment here a week ago.”

A statement that he was not aware of any changes in the kitchen staff died on Worf’s lips. He usually left

such minutiae to Wu, more so in the past few months. “Very well,” he said. “You may leave.”

Star Trek - TNG - A Time for War, A Time for Peace

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