Star Trek: The Fall: The Poisoned Chalice by James Swallow Page B

politicians across the UFPreflected a troubling rise in sentiments directed against the newest player on the galactic stage, the Typhon Pact.
    â€œMeet the new enemy,” said Will. “Same as the old enemy.”
    Some more hyperbolic commentators described the Typhon Pact as a dark mirror of the Federation, a coalition of agitator member-states that had gathered behind a united front in the wake of the Borg crisis. It couldn’t be denied that the Pact was a force to be reckoned with; the mere fact of its existence had irrevocably altered the geopolitical map of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants.
    â€œThey’re the perfect monster-under-the-bed for alarmists,” said Deanna. “A gathering of old Federation foes, drawing their plans against us.”
    Her husband nodded. “They fit the bill all right. The Holy Order of the Kinshaya, the Breen Confederacy, the Romulan Star Empire all making treaty with the Gorn, the Tholians, and the Tzenkethi. . . . There’s not a single member of the Pact that hasn’t at one time been a player in an armed conflict with us.”
    Deanna nodded. The Typhon Pact was difficult to anticipate and cunning in its affairs of state, and while there was weakness in the places where the Pact’s members worked at cross purposes, it could not be denied that they represented the gravest military threat to the Federation’s borders. “All that is true, but still they’ve shown no intent to invade. They’ve made plenty of attempts at subterfuge, some successful and some not, but that’s to be expected. They’re pushing at their boundaries and measuring the response, but Bacco herself was reaching out to some of them. . . . Hopefully that opportunity won’t be lost now.”
    â€œWe can hope. Any intent for war is absent, or soit appears,” Will concluded, finishing the thought for her. “That was well enough and good for the previous administration. Starfleet’s job was to carry on, project quiet and steady strength while we kept the chance of some kind of friendship on the table.”
    â€œI remember Ishan Anjar being quite vocal about how much he disagreed with that. And he hasn’t changed his mind,” said Deanna. “Now his calls for a harder line against the Pact are in the ascendant.” It seemed to her that anti–Typhon Pact sentiments were growing by the day, led in part by the belligerent stance of the president pro tem. Although he had yet to openly say the words in any public forum, it was the worst-kept secret on Earth that Ishan considered the Typhon Pact to be the prime suspect in the killing of Nan Bacco.
    â€œIf the Pact is going to be our enemy,” Will said quietly, “then it’s the Tzenkethi driving them to it. That’s how the wind is blowing.”
    The cunning Tzenkethi had waged war on the Federation many times, and the recent battles still lived in the memories of many senior Starfleet officers and older civilians alike; it was this faction of the Typhon Pact that rhetoric targeted, despite the fact that nothing beyond circumstantial evidence connecting them to the DS9 incident had been revealed. Means and motive were not enough on their own, Deanna reflected, but in desperate times such things could slip away beneath the tide of public opinion.
    â€œDo you believe that?” she asked him. “Do you think they are responsible?”
    â€œHistory is full of wars that have started with a single assassin’s bullet,” Will told her. “If somebody took Bacco’s life in order to cause turmoil in the Federation,then they’ve already succeeded.” He paused, then shook his head. “She stood for something, Deanna. For the best of us. The Federation she wanted was one built on a foundation of honesty and reason. We can’t let the last of her be the echo of a shot.”
    *  *  *
    The machine drifted there, some