2293
Just after the destruction of the Klingon moon Praxis.
Nimbus Three was still a desolate wasteland, but the events surrounding Sybock and the USS Enterprise seemed to have, strangely enough, removed the planet from relevance. Whether the galactic community simply wanted to forget everything that had begun there, or had given up on the fantastic notion of a planet of galactic peace, all three empires concerned had quickly and quietly withdrawn their emissaries and left the planet to its sad, dusty fate.
"That is why I have chosen this planet." Gorkon was almost soft-spoken for a Klingon. "If I were to do publicly that which I must do, I would not survive."
"Is your position so precarious? Might I find myself across a table from Chancellor Chang in a month's time?"
"I cannot predict the future. Chang is my Chief of Staff. He has been my friend for years. But he would not support this. I do not know if he will try to kill me." Gorkon poured a glass of water from a chalice and pushed it across the table to Sarek. Even that had been a concern to him. Normally he would have served Blood wine or black tea. But both originated from live animals, and that would not be acceptable to the venerable Vulcan. And since the plant-based tea favoured by Vulcans would likely sicken him, it had to be a neutral. Water it was. Tasteless, and offensive to the Klingon palate, it was the only solution. Just like the idea he came with.
Sarek raised one eyebrow at the taste of the water. "Terran water. Not to be found easily within the confines of the Empire." Sarek knew then just how important this was to Gorkon. Tasteless as he found it, he would honour Gorkon for the difficulty he must have endured in procuring an inoffensive drink for the two of them to share. “It is an acquired taste.” And that was as much as he could say in appreciation. “Why have you asked me to come here?”
Gorkon sipped gingerly at the pale liquid. “The danger we face is real. Conservative elements within the Empire will use the destruction of Praxis as an excuse to attack.”
Now was the first critical moment. Sarek knew it well. It was when discussion of trivial matters ceased. When the diplomats stopped talking about the setting and the refreshments and started to lay their issues bare. “Chancellor, there are rumours suggesting a possible coup. Are you in command of your military?”
“There have been…struggles between Houses. But the traitors are being controlled. What of rogue Starfleet captains? James Tiberius Kirk comes to mind.”
“Captain Kirk is no rogue. He is a Starfleet Officer who has had occasion to be a soldier.” Sarek remembered meeting Kirk for the first time on the way to the first Babel Conference. He had thought little of him at the time. But he had shown himself of late to be a man of good character.
Gorkon knew of Kirk, and in truth he had a small measure of respect for him as a soldier. “Ambassador, this cannot be left to soldiers.” At Sarek’s raised eyebrow, Gorkon added, “Soldiers have written our history for more than a hundred years. That is why we have been forced to this…precipice.”
“A civilian authority must have trust in its military, or it becomes--”
“An Empire?” Gorkon finished for Sarek. “I have not come here to oversee the dismantling of the Klingon Empire. I have come to ensure its survival. The relentless expansion of the Federation has forced us to respond with unceasing military build-up. That led directly to the destruction of Praxis. And it has blinded good Klingons.” He thought of Chang. Half-blinded in combat. Completely blinded by ideology.
“Soldiers.” Sarek saw Gorkon’s facial muscles tense, and he almost smelled the anger from across the table. “With respect, soldiers who serve in good faith may keep the peace, but from whom? Their opposite? This crisis endangers both the Klingon Empire and the Federation. If both are to survive, the soldiers must step aside so that the diplomats can do their work. Both sides must begin to talk.”
Gorkon sighed as if the weight of the universe rested upon his shoulders. “And while we talk, those who would wreak havoc will strike. That is the challenge we face. We must pursue peace with the zeal of a soldier.”
The answer presented itself, as Sarek knew it would. As logic dictated. “If the diplomatic initiative must move as quickly as a soldier moves to war, then perhaps what is required is a soldier who will work towards peace.”
Gorkon came to the only possible conclusion. “Kirk.”