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much aware of those possibilities. But whatever happens, I do bear a responsibility for the current situation, and I should stand up and face it. Goodness knows, I’ve certainly tried to instill that belief in my children. Now, of all times, I can’t walk away from it.” Vaneel, who had learned that lesson as well as any of his children—and far better than some—would certainly understand if he had to risk missing her wedding. “At least I can attempt to bring some rationality and calm to theproceedings. If the factions are willing to cooperate enough to invite me—and actually make it an invitation this time—maybe that’s something I can encourage them to build on.”
    The captain nodded. “I cannot fault your convictions, Phlox. And you are a civilian, so ultimately the choice is yours. If you wish to go, I will not stand in your way.”
    “I really think I must, T’Pol.”
    She rose. “Yet it troubles me that this is occurring so soon before the wedding. I would find it . . . disagreeable . . . to attend the event without you, Phlox.”
    He smiled. “And I would find it disagreeable to be detained. Especially by Klingons. But Nevokh did give his word of honor that I would be unharmed.”
    T’Pol did not look reassured. “If the Klingons suspect their chancellor was assassinated, then honor may not be as prevalent in the Empire as they claim.”
    Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco
    “You’re positive? M’Rek is dead?”
    Admiral Jonathan Archer considered his words before responding to the Andorian shen on his desk monitor. Vinithnel sh’Mirrin was the current Federation Commissioner for Defense, and though Archer found her more reasonable than her predecessor, Min glasch Noar, he wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings. “At this point, all we have are unconfirmed reports. We’ll know more when we get Doctor Phlox’s report in a few days—assuming the Klingons let him go like they promised.”
    Sh’Mirrin’s antennae took on a thoughtful cast. “Understood. Still, you were right to notify me. We have to be ready for whatever comes. M’Rek’s inability to unify the High Council worked in our favor; it kept the Klingons too busy undermining their rivals to spare any attention for us. What if the next chancellor is able to unite the Council behind a common goal, like invading the Federation?”
    “All the more reason to be glad Phlox is there,” Archer pointed out. “If he does them a favor, it might earn the Federation some goodwill in their eyes.” Even as he said it, Archer recognized how feeble a hope it was. In his past dealings with the Klingon High Council, he’d found them too preoccupied with their political games and pissing contests to be interested in alliances with the Federation. Even a decade ago, when it had been in their best interests to join with Earth against their common Romulan foes, they had come within a hair’s breadth of declaring war on Earth merely to save face for some perceived embarrassment. Chancellor M’Rek’s unofficial assistance had come in handy at the Battle of Cheron, but it would have destroyed him politically to side openly with Earth and its allies, the later founders of the Federation. And now M’Rek was gone, making it unlikely that the Federation had any potential allies left on the Council.
    “Except that Phlox isn’t from a Federation world,” sh’Mirrin pointed out, adding one more strike against the notion. “Denobula still isn’t in any hurry to make up its mind about joining.”
    “They are an ally, though. And the Klingons know that Phlox has been a doctor with Starfleet for over a decade. Maybe that’ll count for something.”
    “I admire your optimism, Admiral.” She sighed. “Meanwhile, I need to brief the president and discuss our options. Depending on how things fall out on Qo’noS in the phases and moons ahead, we may need to divert Starfleet resources to the border sectors nearest the Klingon