Retifel Thamnos smirked. That Starfleet woman was more resourceful than I realized. No wonder the lizard liked her. “It’s Garos,” she told Corthoc. “Apparently he was playing our own game against us—accumulating data on our activities and holdings that he could use as blackmail fodder if we turned on him.”
“That’s just low. Who would sink to such a thing?” She didn’t deign to answer. “Retifel, dear, you have to help us.”
“Do you imagine that Garos spared us the same assault? We’re dealing with crises of our own. At this point, Corthoc, it’s every Family for itself.” A distant explosion sounded over the comm, and the ornate chandeliers behind Vemrim shuddered and chimed. “And it sounds as if you have your hands full, so I’ll leave you to it. Sorry, dear.”
She shut off the screen before Vemrim could spew more desperate babble, finally letting herself laugh out loud at the Corthocs’ misfortune. True, the seizures and arrests of the Thamnos’ own offworld assets were no mere jest, and the populist uprisings were undoubtedly just beginning. The Thamnos, and other clans less brazen in their brutality than the Corthocs, were managing to censor the news of their worst atrocities for now, but it would surely reach the masses in time, and Retifel had no illusions about her Family’s ability to fend off an insurrection with its offworld assets so severely compromised.
But Retifel had faith in the Thamnos’ ability to adapt to change. It had been that adaptability that had enabled them to displace older, more ossified Families and claim their lands and wealth. This latest hardship would simply clear more of their rivals, the Corthocs included, from the field and give the Thamnos a clearer path to power.
Oh, there would have to be compromises. The Family had already extended feelers to the Trade Commission, offering to make a deal and to participate in the transition to a more democratic form of government. But even an occupying power still needed to rely on existing local authority structures for day-to-day rule, so the Thamnos could survive by making themselves indispensable to the new regime, playing along with its reforms while continuing to accumulate wealth and power through sub rosa means. Retifel’s yearning for open rule of two worlds would have to give way to a more clandestine form of power on the margins of society—the very situation Retifel had hoped to avoid.
But she had gambled and lost, and she was a good enough sport to accept the consequences. What mattered was that, one way or another, the Family would survive.
June 28, 2164
Tregon, Rigel V
“On behalf of all Rigel, I hereby thank you.” Adren Kospar, the round-eared Zami male who had been hurriedly sworn in as the new Rigel V representative to the Rigelian Trade Commission, gestured expansively at the two Starfleet captains who sat before the board of directors in the council hall. “Captain Malcolm Reed of Earth, Captain T’Pol of Vulcan—it is thanks to you and the heroic efforts of your crews that the Rigelian society and economy have been spared a true disaster.”
T’Pol leaned forward. “Thank you, Director, but we require no accolades. Our purpose is to serve.”
“And so you have,” Director Sajithen intoned, her words pitched toward the Rigelian masses viewing the live broadcast. “Indeed, recent events have served to open our eyes to a fundamental weakness in our system. We built Rigel’s economy on license and indulgence—valuing freedom, yes, but hypocritical in our tolerance of those who would exploit their own freedom to impinge on the freedom of others. We now see that the balance of secrets and threats we used to maintain order left us teetering on the edge of a knife. And so the people now clamor for reform.”
Jemer Zehron spoke with more reluctance. “Yes, indeed. Though war has been averted, we have seen sectors of the economy destabilized, public officials disgraced, trust in the system badly undermined. We must act to restore the public’s faith in our institutions.” He fidgeted. “It seems likely that . . . some of us will not survive the referendum our shareholder-voters have called for. And perhaps that is as it should be. But if nothing else, we should do what we can to minimize the damage our choices have caused.
“I opposed Federation membership because I believed it was in the best interest of my . . . supporters,” Zehron went on, though T’Pol was sure he was not referring to his electoral base. “But none of us can thrive unless confidence in our basic institutions is restored. The public increasingly sees Federation law and Starfleet protection as the keys to our future stability. Thus, I will oppose their will no longer.”