IT WAS THE FIRST Gatni war council Bilok had called in more than a decade, and convening it in the middle of the night only made it feel like what everyone present knew it was: a conspiracy.

In addition to himself, Neelo, Dasana, and Elazol, four of the Gatni Party’s senior ministers, had assembled in a remote and neglected research archive, in the Assembly Forum basement.

Itani, the minister of health, was a firebrand; at least once per day she could be trusted to unleash an apocalyptic vocal conflagration on the Assembly floor. In contrast, Edica, the minister of labor, spoke about as much as the granite statues that towered over the main entrance to the Forum—yet she managed to draft more pages of legislation than any other five ministers combined.

Unoro, the minister of justice, was regarded as a master dealmaker—which probably explained why he was the only Gatni other than Bilok who still occupied a senior seat in the Assembly. He’d undoubtedly fared better than Tawnakel, who still fumed over being forced to resign as minister of state; after being third in line of succession, being minister of the arts rankled.

Bilok had personally mentored all four of them, which was the only reason he trusted them enough to invite them here this evening. There was too much at stake to risk a larger gathering, which could easily fall prey to turncoats who would betray Bilok and his political brothers and sisters to Kinchawn’s ruthless Lacaam Coalition.

“Our first priority,” Bilok said in an urgent but hushed voice, “is to get me a new secure line of communication to the Federation. I’ve been informed that Kinchawn has placed a signal intercept on all transmissions from my home and office.”

“Before we do anything,” Unoro said, “we need to know more about your dealings with the Federation.” Most of the other ministers murmured in agreement. Bilok expected they would be quite angry with him, but that couldn’t be helped now.

“What I’m about to tell you must never leave this room,” he said. “The future of our world and the Alpha Quadrant hinges on it.” The other ministers nodded.

“Seven years ago,” he continued, “shortly after Kinchawn rose to power, he made a deal with the Federation. They needed a neutral planet on which to build a massive artillery system. It was designed as a trap for the forces of the Dominion, with whom they were at war. You saw today what those guns can do.

“In exchange for helping them build their secret weapons, Kinchawn and the Lacaam Coalition received material aid meant to improve the standard of living for our people. Instead, Kinchawn sold those goods on the black market, through the Orion Syndicate. The money that he raised then bankrolled the Lacaam’i candidates’ slander campaigns against us—and his new fleet.

“Four years ago, I was contacted by Koll Azernal, the senior advisor to the Federation president. He had come to believe that Kinchawn was unstable, and feared he might strike a bargain with the Dominion—betraying the Federation and its allies if and when they came looking to spring their trap. My charge was to ensure that Kinchawn didn’t break his pact with the Federation. But—as you also saw today—I failed.”

“A dangerous game you’ve committed us to,” Itani said.

“I’d hardly call it a game,” Tawnakel said. “Kinchawn’s been signing pacts and making executive decisions without consulting the Assembly. I’d call that a dictatorship—and you knew about it, Bilok. But you said nothing.”

“I apologize,” Bilok said. “But it was necessary. I had to take a long-term view of the matter.”

Neelo let out a derisive snort. “Did your ‘long-term view’ include Kinchawn dragging us to war? Or did it end just before millions of innocent people were killed in a tragedy you could have prevented?”

“Exposing Kinchawn would not have been a simple matter,” Bilok said. “Its consequences would have stretched far beyond our world.” He moved slowly around the room, addressing each of the ministers, delivering his points fast and hard, like knife jabs. “I expose Kinchawn, the Assembly erupts. Kinchawn moves to protect himself and suppresses dissent by force.

“Meanwhile, the Klingons accuse the Federation of violating the Khitomer Accords by putting heavy weapons so close to their shared border.

“We wage a civil war here on Tezwa, while the Klingons and the Federation fight a war of attrition all around us. In all likelihood they fight to a stalemate, then both collapse.

“Without the two great powers on either side of us, our once-neutral corner of space becomes a target of opportunity. One week the Tholians invade; the next, the Romulans become our masters.

“Or, I can choose to keep my own counsel and bide my time,” Bilok said, returning to his original position at the head of the group. “I can win the trust of the Federation, and set the stage for Kinchawn’s removal by convincing them that the Gatni Party can provide a more reliable, less militant ally.”

Dasana wore a skeptical frown. “I concede that alienating the Federation serves no positive end, nor does sparking a war between them and the Klingons,” she said. “But why seek out their alliance? Why not remain neutral?”

Several of the other ministers grumbled similar sentiments while Bilok formulated a reply.

“I’ve considered that question at length,” the deputy prime minister said. “I’ve weighed the potential gains against the risks. And each time, I have concluded that we stand to gain more by becoming part of the Federation than we do by remaining outside of it.”

Elazol looked unconvinced. “Such as?”

“A mutual-defense pact with hundreds of other worlds,” Bilok said. “Massive improvements to physical infrastructure, including housing, transportation, and communications. Better medicine. Superior wildlife conservation. Better educational facilities. Access to advanced manufacturing techniques. I’d continue, but I think you get the point.”

“Of course, you also become embroiled in their conflicts,” Unoro said. “And they do seem to have a lot of them, for a people who preach the value of peace. Wars against the Cardassians, the Borg, the Dominion—and those are only in the past two decades.”

“We’re digressing,” Bilok said. “The issue of Federation membership is a debate for another time. Right now we need to focus on the two most immediate threats to our security: the Klingons, and the prime minister himself.”

“Well, we certainly have the means to repel the Klingons,” Dasana said.

Elazol shook his head. “Just what we need—more violence.”

“Minister Elazol is right,” Bilok said. “We cannot defuse this crisis by escalating the war. We must not give in to fear—and we must not let Kinchawn use those guns again.”

Itani’s neck feathers ruffled with high dudgeon. “Are you suggesting we let those barbarians invade our world without a fight?”

“Of course not,” Bilok said. “I’m saying we need to give them a better reason not to invade.”

“Such as Kinchawn’s head on a spear,” Tawnakel quipped.

“You jest,” Bilok said. “But you’re right. Kinchawn created this mess. He alone gave the order to fire the artillery. We need to convince the Klingons that he can be held individually responsible for this atrocity, so that the rest of us don’t need to be held collectively accountable.”

“And we need to do it before the Klingons vaporize us,” Neelo added.

“Preferably, we would act within the law,” Bilok said. “An open vote of no confidence, followed by his arrest on thousands of charges of murder, for the Klingon soldiers he killed, and countless charges of negligence, for the millions of our people who were slain by the Klingons’ counterattack.”

“Neither of those charges addresses his subversion of the Assembly’s authority,” Unoro said. “He deserves to be charged with high treason.”

“And so do I,” Bilok retorted. “But there’s no way to bring such a charge without exposing the Federation’s complicity, and that brings us back to the very tragedy we’re seeking to avert.”

“Oh, I see,” Unoro said. “So, in the name of political expediency, we’ve decided to run roughshod over justice?”

“Our goals are to remove Kinchawn and make amends with the Klingons,” Bilok said. “Justice has nothing to do with it.”

“Deposing him in an open vote will be nearly impossible,” Neelo said. “Especially this soon after the battle.”

“I know,” Bilok said. “But we need to appease the Klingons before it’s too late. If we have to resort to extralegal means to do so, that is a choice I can accept.”

Itani looked horrified. “You’re not advocating that we…” She apparently couldn’t say the word. “But that’s madness! What happened to principles? To ethics? To the rule of law?”

A voice like a groaning floorboard answered her. “Kinchawn abolished them long ago,” Edica said, breaking her stony silence at last. “Just say the word, Bilok…and I’ll assassinate that treacherous piece of filth myself.”