KOLL AZERNAL

It was a pleasant morning in Paris, all things considered. Sol was shining, there was a low fog over the Seine and a crisp morning chill. Weather, I had come to understand, was considered optimal for humans, and the preferred configuration for the weather control grid on this part of Earth.

Nonetheless, there was significant tension. I had been warning the Federation for decades about their lack of battle readiness, but my Zakdorn colleagues and I were relegated to running simulated battles between starships. Instead of being given any real influence in policy… Under Amitra and Jaresh Inyo at least.

Min Zife was different, we had known each other for some time prior to him taking office. I ran his campaign, he, sensibly, made me his chief of staff. And not a moment too soon. Even with all of our efforts, the Federation survived the first year of the war through what I can only surmise as… How would you put it? Pure dumb luck? Our best case estimates put Starfleets Survival odds at only slightly above 30%. We still don’t know exactly how Captain Sisko managed to make a Dominion Fleet vanish within the Wormhole. His official report gave credit to the wormhole aliens that the Bajorans call Prophets, but I have never put any stock in their mythos and fairytales. Even when they’re credited by otherwise upstanding Starfleet officers.

There’s always a logical strategy, and as humans go, Sisko isn’t bad. I just never managed to get a straight answer out of him. With that said, I have no doubt that you and I would not be standing here today if his… Gambles didn’t pay off.

On that note, I did provide him with a full retrospective analysis of his Operation Return strategy. I estimated there could have been a 7.2% reduction in Starfleet losses had he refined his plan a bit more. But that’s his burden to bear, not mine.

While that was a success overall, not all of our strategies did pan out, and that is what you are here to talk about. I still think it’s the fault of Starfleet for not fully committing to our ideas, and our analyses show a high probability of internal interference causing the eventual failure of the programme. But, it was a failure. So, back to that morning.

As was daily routine for Quafina1 to be up until the early hours collating and categorising our intelligence reports, I’d take over for him and use those reports to shape our ever evolving strategy before briefing Zife after his first meeting of the day. Which would always be a prominent official from a Federation world. Meeting with officials early in the day produced a 17.8% higher satisfaction rating from them as a guest, and a 8.4% higher chance of compromise on any requests and/or demands they brought to the table.

After that briefing, it was always one Starfleet Admiral or another. But on this day, we had a… What would you say would be the collective noun for Admirals? A group? Pack? Convergence? Convergence sounds appropriate. This day had a convergence of Admirals, and their appearance at Palais de la Concorde was shepherded by a darkening of the sky as clouds rolled in.

As Zife cleared his desk after our meeting, I noted them making their way to the fifteenth floor at a pace. Always bad news, it either meant an operation had gone badly. Or they had something that they wanted to rub in our faces. Even under Zife, tensions were high between Starfleet’s Strategic Command and the Federation councils appointed Strategic leadership.

I had been informed by the president that Starfleet had specifically requested that this be a private meeting, one without any advisors or other council members present. Another hint that this wasn’t going to be pleasant news. He insisted on my presence, but others had to leave after the preceding briefing.

The faces in the group were familiar. But Zife wasn’t one to take a beating lying down. One of the reasons I helped run his campaign for president was because he had a uniquely strong ability to command a room and shape an audience to what he needed, rather than what they wanted. The Starfleet brass were used to giving the orders, but when they came to Zife he set the agenda.

He began the conversation as though he had extended the invitation to them, rather than it being they who had to request the audience. Even that windbag Hayes found himself having to sit in silence as he spoke. Had there been an artist to capture the scene, I’m sure it would make a much respected artwork in one of this world's museums in decades to come.

After it became clear that the Admirals had lost some of the determined confidence that they bought with them as they strode into the room. He opened the floor for them to speak. They didn’t spare the detail, and my suspicions were realised. I was the one that had pushed the President's office to exercise some pressure on Starfleet to think more seriously about holographic alternatives to sentient crew members on deep space vessels. After all, it’s a lot easier to replace a holo emitter than it is to replace the decades of experience and training investments that are lost every time a Starfleet Officer meets the wrong end of a phaser.

They spelled it out, in an almost patronizing manner but never quite crossing over into being a clear insult. I had to commend them on their tact in that regard. They didn’t give Zife, or myself a chance to bite back. To point out an error on their part. This was our failure to own. Or should I say, it was mine.

There’s a reason the president never takes a meeting alone.

But as Zife was getting ready to direct the blame, something unexpected happened.

They let us off the hook.

The tale they were weaving, of a Tal Shiar plot to steal Starfleet Technology, gave way to a slapstick rendition of a spy caper. Holograms had saved the day after all, despite the initial failures. One Hologram in particular had far surpassed its original programming and what’s more, it had been sent from a long lost Federation starship on the other side of the Galaxy.

I commend the President to this day for retaining his composure, given the opportunity they had just unexpectedly dropped in our lap. These situations were rare, very rare. But he played his part perfectly, as one would expect.

There was almost a tinge of desperation in Ross’ voice as he waffled on. It’s one thing to be able to soften the blow of bad news, it’s another level entirely to make respected senior officials sound like they’re almost begging for you to acknowledge the good.

He paced the room as he was told of how this was already boosting Starfleet morale within the small number of groups that had already been made aware. Oh Ross told a good story, a grand one in fact. Very evocative imagery, one sentence in particular.

“One of our ships is still out there flying the flag carrying out Starfleet's core mission” stuck with me. We could use that and Ross, well. Ross would go far.

Zife, still playing the role, walked over to the window in faux contemplation of the news, the weather - on schedule as always - had seen the clouds break into rainfall as we had been talking. A perfect backdrop for Zife to launch into his next act. Commending the bravery of Starfleet, the importance of their mission and his wonderment at the news of a long lost vessel being found.

As he and I discussed later, the particulars weren’t as important as the narrative. We had taken too many losses for this early stage of the war. In part thanks to Captain Sisko’s reckless gamble to retake Deep Space Nine. The troops needed a morale boost, the presidency needed a positive poster story to bolster polling figures. As I said before, they dropped the opportunity in our lap.

With the President onboard, some of the Admirals left.

Ross and Hayes stayed, again as I said. Ross would go far. They had some ideas for resource allocations for projects that could, in theory, be used to contact Voyager. But that also would benefit the war effort.

We also discussed exactly how to break the story to the press.