The noise and confusion were reaching dangerous levels. It wasn’t enough that every prisoner, with the exception of Jilla Majiir, had been brought in kicking and screaming. Ramon Ordona had followed Mrraal, demanding an explanation. Pavel Chekov and Daffy Gollub had come racing in moments after Arex was escorted into the cell. Monique DuBois arrived shortly after that, and now Sulu had joined the yowling and shrieking and whistling of the prisoners. Tara Ryan was upset enough at having drawn brig duty as it was. The fact that she didn’t know the answers to any of the questions that were being shouted at her only made things worse.

“Ryan, I’m giving you a direct order to open this cell!” Sulu demanded.

“I can’t do that, sir,” she said, and almost flinched under his fierce glare. “I was told that I’m to answer only to the commissioners or Admiral Bradigan, sir.”

“What did they do?” Ramon wanted to know. “Mrraal was with me all evening!”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant…”

“Damn you, Ryan…” Ruth screeched.

“You can’t do this!” Arex pleaded.

“What’s next, Terran; a firing squad?” Mrraal hissed.

“Enough!” Sulu’s voice cut over the viciousness. “We’re not all against you or we wouldn’t be here!”

New cries went up, accusation and sarcasm aimed at the Chief of Security. The security team that was supplementing Tara Ryan drew their phasers.

“Why don’t you all accept your fates like Mrs. Majiir over there,” one of them said. “She’s always been nice and obedient, hasn’t she, Sulu?” There was just enough innuendo in his voice to make Ruth shriek “Bastard!” at Sulu, and enough for Sulu to knock him to the deck. The man came up fighting and swung back at Sulu, missing the agile figure and hitting Ordona instead. Ramon returned it with vigor and Tara reluctantly turned to request more assistance.

Spock heard the cacophony as he came out of the turbolift. He quickly walked down the corridor and found the source of the disturbance exactly where he expected it; directly before the entrance to the security cells that made up the ship's brig. He stepped between Ordona and his assailant and calmly declared, “That will be enough, Lieutenants.”

Silence fell immediately. He addressed Lieutenant Ryan. “Please deactivate the shield for a moment.”

She blinked, obviously confused. He glanced at Sulu and Ordona, who quickly stepped back. He turned to the people in the brig. “Move away from the door, and do not attempt any fool-hardy heroics when the shield is down.” He looked again at Ryan. “If you please, Miss Ryan.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan answered and did as he requested. He noted that the shield was put swiftly back in place the moment he was inside the cell.

“Welcome to Birmingham, Boss,” Ruth snarled pleasantly.

“Enough, Miss Valley,” he ordered sharply.

“You came voluntarily?” Mrraal asked incredulously.

“I did.”

“In god’s name, why?!” Ruth demanded.

“The captain has asked for our trust,” was the simple response. He turned his attention to those gathered outside the cell. “I must ask you all to disperse,” he said. “You can do no good here.” The sudden speculation in Sulu’s eyes told him that the lieutenant hadn’t missed his slight emphasis.

“Jilla…” the young man began.

Spock glanced at the corner where the Indiian sat huddled to the wall.

“No harm will come to her,” Spock assured. “You have my word, Mr. Sulu.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Sulu said, and turned, grasping Ramon Ordona by the arm.

When the other crewmembers had all left the brig, Spock took a seat, hoping his sigh was not as bone-rattling as it felt.

“Commander…” Ruth began softly.

“All I know, Miss Valley, is that the captain has called the ambassadors from each of our homeworlds and expects them to arrive on Earth shortly before or after we do. What happens in the councils of the Federation are then up to them.”

M’ress meowed with relief, rubbing her head against Mrraal’s chest. Arex’s eyes closed as he murmured something in Edoan. Ruth grinned.

“Bwana called evan Rhialan? Oh, Z’s gonna love this!” She crossed the small cell to crouch beside Jilla. “Did you hear that?” she said. “The Captain’s called…”

“My father,” Jilla whispered, and her misery washed over Spock’s awareness.

It cannot be a comfort to her, he thought sadly.

What can? came the reply from Ruth’s mind.

I fear, Miss Valley, that there may be nothing at all.

It started with Sulu and Ordona’s careful instigation: Sulu told Ramon about the scene in front of Dr. McCoy’s cabin, and called Sakura Tamura. Ramon called Kevin Riley. They met at the good doctor’s quarters, informing him and Scott of what was happening in the brig. A few minutes later, Riley came to McCoy’s door. Sakura soon arrived, along with her fellow yeoman, Janice Rand. Daffy and Pavel showed up with Dav and Judy Miller in tow. Uhura, having been called by Monique, appeared with the navigator. They brought Dr. M’Benga with them. It soon became apparent that McCoy’s quarters weren’t going to be big enough and they all moved to the mess hall.

More and more people were called into the room, or came in wondering what was going on. Before too long there was a sizeable mob of angry, puzzled and determined crewmembers, all of whom seemed to be talking at once. Kevin tapped Sulu on the shoulder.

“This is something out of a bad psycho-cin,” he muttered. “Get All Aliens!”

“Don’t remind me,” Sulu replied.

“So what are we gonna do about it, Sulu, me boy?”

“Stop following illegal, immoral, irrational orders, for starters.”

“Mutiny?” Kevin’s whisper was both dubious and hopeful.

“No, that’s just it,” Sulu informed him. “These aren't coming from the captain.”

Kevin blinked, then found a voice that exclaimed, “This is insane!”

“I know that, you know that,” Sulu grumbled. “Somebody tell Headquarters.”

Daffy, Pavel, and the Millers had been talking among themselves nearby, and Sulu suddenly heard Judy’s sharp voice snarl, “Our ancestors went quietly and they died by the millions.”

“What?” he said, turning abruptly to them.

There was a look of appalled surprise on Judy’s face. “Don’t you know the history of your own world?” Dav put in.

“My own…” Sulu paused, his face paling. “Are you talking about… Ruth meant… oh god,” he finished in a whisper, not looking at the four hard faces that studied him.

“When did you tell her to go quietly?” Dav wanted to know.

“You arrested her, didn’t you?” Daffy accused coldly.

“Ruth is hardly an Antari name, is it!” Judy added.

“Sulu,” Pavel said quietly, “no Jew will ever ‘go quietly’ again.”

“It’s not just ancient history either,” Kevin was adding. “My whole family died because one man thought he was god. This commission isn’t any better than Kodos or Hitler.”

“Or Stalin,” Pavel rejoined.

“I know, I know!” Sulu groaned. “I’m Japanese, I know all about unwarranted racial detainment! I wasn’t thinking…”

“Just look at us,” Dav broke in. “Look at how many times Terrans have done this. All of our families have experience with it. Is it any wonder they’re all terrified?”

“Mussolini, Hirohito, McCarthy, Mao Zedong, Baby Doc Duvalier, Idi Amin, Qwan Li, Khan Noonian Singh…” Daffy was ticking off names on her fingers.

The door opened and Sulu hushed her, filled with both hope and foreboding as Captain Kirk stepped into the mess hall.

“At ease,” was the first thing Kirk said to the uncounted pairs of eyes that turned to him as the mess hall door closed behind him. “Does someone want to tell me what this is all about?”

Someone shouted, “when you tell us!” and McCoy stood up.

“I think you know, Jim,” he said.

“You’re upset over the mistreatment of your non-Human fellow officers,” Kirk confirmed, and took a deep breath before continuing. “You’re no more upset than I am. What has been happening is both disturbing and morally and ethically wrong.” Many voices began a low murmur and Kirk held up a hand. “I want to make it clear that none of it – none of it – was done with my approval, and much of it was done without my knowledge.” The murmurs became tinged with disconcerted apprehension. “We have a common enemy on this ship,” he went on. “The rumors you’ve been hearing were right about that much. But it isn’t Vulcan or Antari or Indiian or Edoan or Caitian or any other non-Human race. It isn’t even Terran. It’s an idea, an ugly, mistaken idea that I thought we had long discarded.” He paused. “Xenophobia,” he said, “irrational, unreasoning, unfounded fear of anything alien or foreign. And we’re all to blame.” He had to pause again as there were several angry shouts of denial. “We didn’t believe it,” he enunciated. “We stopped looking for it, stopped refuting it. We didn’t think it possible. That's how the cancer grows. WE, all of us, let it happen. And there’s only one way to stop it.” He paused again, trying to catch every eye in the room.

“Care. Believe it can happen and hate it. Fight it. Care what happens and not just to yourselves or to those like you or to those who agree with you. Stand up to it, stand up to those who perpetrate it, stand behind those who oppose it – and especially stand with those who are its victims. Ladies, gentlemen, that is an order.”

The riotous, spontaneous outburst of applause was quite satisfying.

The Terran officials asked for and received permission to come aboard to escort the ‘aliens’ to the investigative hearing. The commissioners were quite pleased with the job that had done, and presented the officials with an impressive amount of documentation to support their case. The arrangements were handled with such brisk efficiency that the sight of nearly two-thirds of the crew of the Enterprise in full dress uniform lining the corridors from the transporter room to the brig, all of them grimly silent until the prisoners passed them, then giving quiet, determined vows of aid and support was a spectacle that the officials could not help but note – and heed.

Ruth had grabbed onto Jilla’s arm when the security team released the brig cell force-field. She felt the Indiian flinch and draw away, but ignored the hopeless shame that pierced her empathic shields. I’m not about to let you walk this gauntlet alone, she thought, her own emotions a mixture of anger and fear. M’ress and Mrraal also held to each other as they stepped from the brig, walking closely behind Arex. Spock’s face held no expression, but Ruth could feel the tension all through him. The commissioners made a show of regret, but their eyes all gleamed with the expectation of utter victory.

Then they rounded the corridor leading from the brig. Dress uniforms, as far as they could see, lined the hallways. Voices reached Ruth’s ears, soft, comforting:

“Don’t worry, we’re with you.

“We’ll fight for you.”

“You’re not alone.”

As they reached Sulu, he stepped in front of her. “Forgive me,” he said, as genuinely contrite as she had ever seen him. Ruth blinked and nodded numbly. He gently disengaged her arm from Jilla’s, moving to his lover’s side. He slid his arm around Jilla’s waist, his sorrow pouring off him in waves as tears filled the haunted grey eyes.

Then Kevin Riley was suddenly beside her, his arm around her waist. She felt her own tears beginning and Kevin winked reassuringly at her.

Daffy and Pavel joined Arex. Tara Ryan and Ramon Ordona moved to either side of M’ress and Mrraal. And Scotty and Bones, their faces set in serious defiance, stepped up to flank Spock.

By the time they reached the transporter room, Ruth was almost relaxed. She was even almost smiling. It stopped being almost when Captain Kirk stepped in front of the prisoners. “We’re going with them,” he told the officials.

After looking nervously around at the crew, the officials judiciously made no protest.

As they stepped onto the transporter platform, Kirk leaned over to her. “Deal, Angel,” he whispered.

They were brought to a security holding area just outside the U.N.E complex in New York. The commission, being the prosecution, was to present its findings to the board before the prisoners were brought in and Kirk would be allowed to speak in defense of his crew. McCoy and Scotty spoke easily with Spock under the watchful eyes of a full Terran security complement. Sulu and Kevin would not be left behind and had followed in a second beam-down. The guards wouldn’t permit them in the cell itself, so they contended themselves with low, consoling conversation through the force screen.

Kirk was watching the sky. It was about 1100, local time, and it was ridiculous that he was looking for a ship from Babel, but his eyes kept wandering space-ward just the same. For the first time in his life, he got no joy from being home.

The hours passed slowly and the tension among the prisoners began to increase again. Conversation grew stilted and the words of assurance sounded less and less confident. They were asked if they wanted a meal. Everyone refused, although McCoy commented that a few ounces of Saurian brandy wouldn’t hurt. Kirk called the Enterprise. Everything was in order, but there was still no word or sign from Babel. Had the situation deteriorated to the point where Babel was fed up with Terra and wanted an incident to force some kind of secession?

No, you’re getting paranoid. It can’t be more than a handful of lunatics.

Then why did Elamas authorize the lunacy? Supreme Secretariate for the entire Federation doesn’t have the right to let any one planet pull something like this.

Stupid comment, Kirk. He obviously does. But why?

It was after 1700 when an aide came to bring Kirk to the board. Only Kirk. None of the aliens would be allowed to hear the charges against them or to speak in their own defense. After all, Kirk reminded himself, this is an inquiry, not formal hearing procedures. Little things like legality needn’t be taken into account.

The nine members of the investigative board studied the documents before them as Davis was concluding his presentation. The chambers in which they met were spacious but austere. Both a computer and two aides made transcripts of the proceedings. The commissioners sat before the raised table of the board, a smaller area having been set aside for opposition documents and presentation. Davis was on his feet, his voice clear, calm and full of persuasive reason.

“It is clear to us, ladies and gentlemen, and we hope now clear to you the real and present danger such a conspiracy poses to the Earth and the Federation. Our research has been painstaking; our results, we think, obvious. To recap: Commander Spock of Vulcan, one of the most respected officers in all Starfleet, is an admitted perjurer, mutineer and criminal. Witness the Talos incident, the Gideon incident, the Shas incident. Yet he has not received even one reprimand for his actions. The all-powerful Vulcan Council keeps a stranglehold on the normal flow of military justice. All of these incidents have been defended as his loyalty and concern for his superior officers. Yet have they not also advanced him, and his influence? Altruism is the perfect cover, ladies and gentlemen. I need not again go into the specifics, you have heard the details. Consider them. One by one, the aliens on board the Enterprise have come under his sway. The Indiian is perhaps his co-leader, for she is a Vulcan’s widow and calls herself Vulcan. She cannot be believed to work for other than the furtherance of Vulcan aims. The Antarian claims to use her vast and dangerous mental abilities ‘only in extreme situations’ – yet they are used indiscriminately where the Vulcan is concerned. The Caitians and the Edoan have all admitted – admitted, ladies and gentlemen – to being greatly influenced by both the Vulcan and Commodore April. This ‘and’ is important, for here is the link that binds Starfleet to this danger. April is the means by which Vulcan attracts alien races into Starfleet and into its conspiracy. April’s ‘movement’ for families on starships may seem very pretty on its face, but we all know it is nonsense. Up until this investigation, however, I don’t believe anyone understood why April advances this fluff. The reason may shock you, but again, we have been painstaking.

“With families, women bearing children far from their homes, who can control the genetic purity of those children? I know ladies and gentlemen, no sane person can comprehend the existence of eugenics after the bitter lessons we’ve learned; yet I assure you, it is happening. It has happened. I offer as proof and case in point, Lieutenant Jilla Costain. She makes no secret of her attachment to Vulcan, yet she cannot be wholly blamed. No, ladies and gentlemen, because she herself is a genetic mutation and example of Vulcan eugenics! And I hardly need to say that if an Indiian, a race known for their irrationality and emotional instability can be so completely mutated, is there any doubt as to the danger to every race known?

“Vulcan conspiracy, Vulcan eugenics, with the Aprilists giving them ever more access, ever more resources, ever more power. We must stop it, now while we still can.”

“Bullshit!” Kirk shouted, and Davis whirled to face him, his expression one of outraged surprise. “There’s not one ounce of proof for anything you’ve said. All of it is sheer speculation and conjecture, nothing more than gossip, and xenophobic rumor. What you’re trying isn’t my crew, it’s your own warped version of Vulcan intention. You’re judging them by what you’d do if you had the power!”

“We have the proof, Captain,” Davis returned coldly. “Enough proof to convince even you. That is why you have been allowed to attend this closed session. Once you know the facts, you will understand your duty to stop protecting the members of this conspiracy.”

“You’re a compassionate man, Captain,” Commissioner Hashi said more gently, “but neither compassion nor loyalty to old friends is going to save Humanity from this threat.”

“Threat?” Kirk scoffed. He addressed the board. “Ladies, gentlemen, I’ve faced Gorn, Kzin, Klingons, Romulans, Havens, Tholians, and threats that are better left nameless. I’ve spend my life in service to the United Federation of Planets, most of them right beside the aliens that are being persecuted here today. No one is going to make me believe that I’ve wasted all those years.”

“Your service record is well known, Captain Kirk,” one member of the board said. “It is also well known that you have little sympathy for Commodore April and his misguided followers.”

“I beg to differ with you, sir,” Kirk contradicted. “I have no sympathy for the idea of the Nest ships. I don’t think they’re feasible. But I applaud and commend the Commodore’s efforts in other directions, particularly in divorcing Starfleet from Terran control. So you see, I’m not the man you need to act as your executioner.” He stared evenly at the board members and the commissioners. “That’s the real reason you’ve allowed me here, isn’t it?”

“I object to this man’s presence!” Chanti suddenly shouted, getting to his feet. “We have no use for hyperbole here, or for fanatics and Aprilists!”

Kirk’s laughter was genuine and full of incredulous disdain. “No use for fanatics? Than what are Elihuites doing here?”

“Precisely the question we will have answered, Captain Kirk.”

The voice that spoke was strong, stern, and not one to be ignored or discounted. It was the voice of Sarek of Vulcan.

Kirk turned as every commissioner rose, staring toward the door of the chamber. Entering the room were the ambassadors from nearly every non-Human species of the Federation, headed by Sarek, Costain, Rhialan, Raal, and Morax, and led by Commodore Robert April.

It was only after the ambassadors had cleared the door that Kirk noticed the swarm of media reporters following them. Of course, he thought with smug satisfaction, such a delegation, unannounced and unexpected would cause the media event of the decade. If the commissioners wanted to keep this farce a secret, they’d better think again.

The reporters followed the group as they approached the board, trying to get answers to their shouted questions. One got close to Sarek, but one look from the Vulcan stopped him cold. After all the years spent with Spock, Kirk could well imagine what that look had been: eyebrows lowered, the eyes themselves dark and piercing, the face emotionless yet giving off almost tangible waves of warning and disdain. If you knew what to look for, there was no mistaking an annoyed Vulcan.

Ambassador Raal had no trouble keeping the reporters away. A seven-foot tiger in a fiercely aggressive stance with a long, dangerously powerful swishing tail wasn’t going to be approached, no matter how gentle or reasonable he might be.

Costain was striding forward belligerently, his silver skin glowing with righteous anger and indignation. I wonder if he ever looks any other way? Kirk mused, remembering the only other time he’d had direct dealings with the Indiian ambassador. He noted several of the other diplomats watching Costain closely, obviously waiting for an outburst and ready, if necessary, to contain it. Kirk realized that he’d never really understood how changed Jilla Majiir’s nature actually was. Or, he added, how much she looks like her father.

For that matter, he had never before realized that Ruth Valley didn't resemble all Antaris, except that she, like evan Rhialan, was incredibly beautiful. The rich voice that had sounded in his head a few months before didn’t do justice to the ambassador’s stunning physical presence. Rhialan’s beauty struck him every bit as strongly as had that of the Silmarils – every bit as strong, if he was being honest, as Ruth’s had, though in a different way. With the emotion flashing in the huge purple eyes, Kirk could conceive of nothing so much as a golden, wingless archangel – an avenging one.

The Edoan, Morax, appeared cautious, but hardly timid. Of all the ambassadors, he seemed to be the most calm. Not that Kirk could actually tell that for certain. From experience, he knew that Edoans were never timorous where duty was concerned. Morax was an elder statesman of his people, and famous for his steadying influence on the Federation Council.

Bob April nodded to him as he passed. He was a youthful man, now near eighty, who looked no more than forty-five, and probably the real reason this ‘investigation’ had been started. April was only advocating what had worked so well for him, yet had prevented him ever having children; he had a wife on board his ship, but without Nests… Kirk sighed. Children on a starship, Bob? It’s too dangerous. I wouldn’t want the responsibility.

It was April who addressed the board. “Commodore Robert Arthur April, Starfleet’s representative to Babel,” he introduced himself, “which represents the worlds of the United Federation of Planets. I and my fellow delegates demand to know what this hearing is about, what was happening on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, who authorized these proceedings and why we were not notified of them in advance.”

Immediately several reporters came up to Kirk, firing questions at him.

“What happened on the Enterprise, Captain?”

“You are James T. Kirk, aren’t you, Captain?”

“Captain, several of your officers are under arrest. Was there an attempted mutiny?”

“Isn’t your First Officer a Vulcan, Captain?”

“Captain’s what’s behind an Elihuite hearing?”

“Was a message sent to Babel to get this delegation here, Captain? Did you send it?”

Kirk nodded to the second question, then ignored the others. His attention was on the board.

“Commodore April,” the board chairwoman was saying, “you have no authority to break into these proceedings…”

“Madam, I have the authority and jurisdiction over anything that concerns any Indiian!” Costain thundered. The sentiment was echoed by every ambassador there, though not all expressed it quite so vehemently.

“Mr. Ambassador,” Davis said indignantly, “we have been authorized to conduct an investigation into the Vulcan conspiracy…”

It wasn’t possible for a Vulcan to roar, but Sarek’s words achieved the same effect. “Vulcan conspiracy, Commissioner? Specify.”

“Vulcan conspiracy, yes, sir!” Chanti answered defiantly. “Your pose of innocence doesn’t convince anyone.”

“You utter moron!” Rhialan shouted, his hands on his hips. The words and attitude were so like Ruth that Kirk couldn’t help smiling. “Why don’t you let someone with at least a modicum of intelligence answer the question?!”

“Ambassador, please,” Morax said quietly.

“We’re supposed to let these idiots….?!”

“I repeat, sir,” Sarek said levelly. “Specify.”

“The conspiracy to change this Federation into a Vulcan Empire, sir,” Hashi said with firm conviction.

Rhialan burst out laughing. Sarek’s expression did not alter as he turned to face the small woman. “Ridiculous,” he said.

“On what do you base this ludicrous accusation?” Costain demanded.

“And what does your preposterous contention have to do with the Enterprise?” April rejoined.

“Or Cait?” Raal added with a growl.

“Or the illegal arrests of Federation citizens?” Morax put in.

“You have still not informed us of your authorization for this investigation,” Sarek finished calmly.

All the commissioners began speaking at once, and Davis held up a hand. “Our authorization comes from Supreme Secretariate Elamas himself,” he replied smugly.

When the uproar died down, April was, strangely, smiling. “Then we should be talking to the Federation Council, not this absurd commission,” he said. He spun on his heel, the ambassadors following, leaving behind a smiling but wary captain and fourteen stunned Terrans.

“…caused a sensation of the U.N.E. complex. Distinguished ambassadors from the majority of Federation worlds, led by Starfleet Commodore Robert April stormed a closed session of that investigative board. Commodore April is the head of a movement in Starfleet calling for the de-Terranization of the fleet, and the introduction of the idea of family, or ‘Nest’ starships.

The ensuing near-riot was recorded for our viewers, and we will present it in full at our eleven o’clock broadcast. To repeat: the announcement that a United Nations of Earth board is investigating an alleged Vulcan conspiracy in Starfleet has caused planet-wide uproar and protesters are still crowding the streets around the U.N.E complex. Details at eleven.”

At the broadcast, the security area had its own near-riot. The fear and tension exploded into cheers and joyous shouts; McCoy, Scotty and Kevin were all crying variations on “we told you!” Arex, M’ress and Mrraal were hugging in relief and new-found hope. Spock, too, was subjected to the delirious expressions of delight as Ruth pulled him into a half-laughing, half-sobbing embrace. Only Jilla had remained seated against the wall, silent and desolate. Sulu had tried to send emotions of safety and caring to her with little result. She must be feeling the emotions lightening around her, he thought, but there was little evidence of it in her expression or posture. Kevin started badgering the guards to let the ‘prisoners’ out, but they were adamant in their duty.

“It doesn’t matter, Kev!” Ruth cried. “They can’t touch us, not with all of Terra and the Federation watching them!” She broke into gales of laughter. “Look at the reactions of all those marvelous Terrans. And they thought aliens were dangerous!”

Anthony Elamas waited nervously outside the board’s chambers. He’d been contacted by fourteen furious and not-a-little anxious Terrans. Somehow the nature of the investigation had leaked out, they said. The renegade April had shown up with a whole entourage of dangerous aliens. Tell that upstart you authorized this noble, worthy, and necessary action!

Elamas sighed, both in annoyance at the ravings of the Elihuites and in relief at the actions of Babel. It had been a less-than-noble, worthy-of-no-one, but unfortunately absolutely necessary way to test Starfleet. Pressure was getting too great. Not even Bob knew just how popular and agreed-with his movement was outside of Fleet, and not only by non-Humans. But convincing Starfleet was another matter. Military organizations, by their very nature, resisted change. It had to come from within when it came at all. Unfortunately, only military-minded people were currently attracted to Starfleet though with the recruitment from the Clave, that‘s changing, Elamas reminded himself. But so the circle went. This was the only way to make Fleet people support April and the de-Terranization – force them to choose. And thank the gods I was right about their choice. If he’d lost this gamble, he would’ve lost the Federation as well. High stakes – the highest. Like the other ‘High Stakes’ I have to worry about. But the alternative was the same. Gamble now to save the Federation, or do nothing and watch the herberts and desk-jockeys - and the Prime Directive - destroy it.

But he couldn’t very well tell the commissioners that, or the ambassadors for that matter. By the time they realized he’d put innocent lives at risk, even for an for ultimate good, the Terrans would be at war with everybody. Just a part of the truth, then; enough to satisfy them but not enough to enrage them. Bob will know. And Bob will get his Nests to forget it. Politics.

He sighed again as an aide came in to announce the ambassadors.

Elamas looked around at the silent room. First, he scanned the smug faces of the Humans who all sat to one side and were wrapped up in their xenophobic haze of righteous self-confidence. Only long years of practice kept him from sneering openly. Careful, Mad Anthony, he told himself, you haven’t settled this yet. He brought his gaze to the group of non-Humans that waited defiantly in front of him. They had each declined chairs, preferring to stand in various attitudes indicative of annoyance. He wondered if any of the Terrans were familiar enough with ‘aliens’ to understand the significance of the ambassadors’ positions. No, it takes an experienced intragalactic diplomat to know what Sarek’s crossed arms mean, or that Rhialan’s hands-on-hips, flashing-eyed amusement is saying to the galaxy ‘one hair on the head of a keheil gets mussed and you’ve had it.’ They don’t know that Costain’s glowing skin is a prelude to disaster, or that Morax’s restraining hand on the Indiian’s shoulder is also a sharing of that outrage. They undoubtedly don’t even know enough to heed Raal’s bristled fur or the constantly twitching tail. And they certainly can’t guess why Bob is so calm, or why he nodded slightly when my eyes met his.

“First of all, Mr. Ambassadors,” Elamas began, “I wish to apologize – to you personally, to the peoples you represent, and to the Starfleet officers who have been persecuted by this commission.”

An uproar from the Terrans caused Elamas to raise his hand for silence. “Yes, I authorized the investigation,” he said, “but I did it for a reason, and not one I think, Commissioners, that you’re going to like.” He took a careful breath. “There’s an old saying on Earth: give someone enough rope and they’ll hang themselves. I couldn’t stop you from being heard; indeed, I wouldn’t want to. That’s not the way of this Federation. So I let you have what you wanted. I let the public judge you. I believe, ladies, gentlemen, that you have been so judged.”

“Traitor!” Chanti screamed.

“Traitor?” Elamas countered. “To what? I’m the Supreme Secretariate of the United Federation of Planets – and to that organization, sir, you're the traitor.” He turned back to the ambassadors. “Once again, gentlebeings, I heartily apologize for the ordeal I’ve put you through. It wasn’t a strictly ethical thing to do, and I am truly sorry I couldn’t find another way to discredit the Elihuite philosophy. I fully intend to apologize directly to those officers involved.” He took a another breath, waiting for April to speak. The commodore didn’t disappoint him.

“I believe, Mr. Secretary, that your personal and direct apology, while a worthy gesture, is hardly retribution for the suffering of those involved,” he began. “I can speak only for myself, of course, but I think the honorable ambassadors,” he gestured, “will agree that something more is in order.” There were nods and murmured assent. “You have proven, you say, to the misguided faction here that public opinion is not with them. The lesson will last far longer of you make it evident to the public and the good ambassadors and Starfleet Command.”

Elamas fought the smile and said gravely, “What do you suggest, Commodore?” It was April’s turn to take a breath and Elamas thought, here it comes. Do it right, Bob.

“We have reiterated that xenophobia will not be tolerated, that non-Humans are equal members of the United Federation of Planets in every sense of that word," April said. "Make these fine words a reality. I call for immediate steps to be taken to alter the charter of Starfleet to provide for exploration above and beyond military considerations. I call for incentives to bring our non-Human brothers into Fleet, to make it a truly interplanetary force. Terra has dominated Fleet, Fleet culture is Terran , only Terran needs are taken into account. How can we expect Vulcans or Indiians or Andorians to give up their heritages in order to serve their Federation? We must keep our identities, Mr. Secretary, but homogeny breeds exactly the kind of xenophobia we’ve witnessed here today. Infinite diversity in infinite combination creates beauty and solidarity and strength,” his face twisted into a wry smile, “assuming I won’t be branded a conspirator for using the Anglo-Terran translation of a Vulcan concept. We all must make adjustments, certainly, but for the Federation, not for Terra, for if we allow such selective adaptation we are not a Federation at all”.

“Mr. Secretary,” Rhialan said suddenly, and the room’s attention was immediately his. evan Rhialan made an excellent spokesman. His form was not only pleasing to most species, he also had a voice like a god. And his tone, at the moment, held a typical note of Antari jauntiness. “What Bob just said is that we want the Nest ships.”

“Indeed,” Sarek agreed. Unfolding his arms, he continued. “The commissioning of the proposed Nest ships would serve as visible proof of Starfleet’s willingness to be an arm of the Federation, rather than its club.”

“It will also prove that Starfleet desires inclusivity.” Costain added. “Since Indiian parents cannot be separated from their children, allowing them on Fleet ships will induce more Indiians to join.”

“And might I propose, Mr. Secretary,” Morax contributed, “that the appropriations for the proposed ships be voted on immediately.”

Elamas pretended to consider for a moment, avoiding April’s eyes, knowing that if he met them, he’d very likely burst out laughing. Things went perfectly, didn’t they, Bob? Almost like we rehearsed it. “Very well, gentlebeings,” he said at last. “I will call an immediate session of the Council.

“…and the spontaneous demonstrations at every planetary embassy on the announcement of the ‘investigation’ insured the unanimous passage of the necessary appropriations for the new ships that have been now been officially dubbed ‘Nests.’ Starfleet will begin research and design next month.”

Jim Kirk allowed a measured amount of time for the cheering of his Bridge crew to die down. The Enterprise had received a formal apology and two weeks leave on Terra, and were just heading out with a new assignment. The official notification of the Council’s decision had been beamed to all starships and bases, and he had ordered Uhura to put it on ship-wide intercom. He was especially concerned that it reached the rec room. Most of the ‘aliens’ were there, attending or participating in another Valley-Majiir Impromptu Concert. He asked Uhura to pick up the rec room just in time to hear Ruth’s voice continue the broadcast.

“Starfleet Command, when asked for official reaction to the announcement, replied that it was overjoyed at the proposal… of a bunch of brats running around on our ships, goddamnit!”

Jim joined the laughter, even though he did agree more with the second half than the first of Ruth’s rendering of Fleet sentiment. Well, he thought, at least it will be a few years. And it won’t be on my ship.

The End