Chapter Three: Bitch, Bitch, Bitch
The Grand Hall was a huge, semi-circular chamber with six tiers that held approximately ten high-backed chairs each. On the lowest tier, a small desk with three – rather more ornate – chairs were positioned to observe those that entered from the main doors. The room itself appeared to be carved from granite; but this was granite in its Sunday best, polished to within an inch of its existence.
Nearly every chair in the hall was taken, including the three lowest chairs; the central of these was occupied by an older, wizened Zixaan, who was almost definitely identifiable as an elder of the race. The Zixaan sat up straight and peered at the new arrivals. "Senator Albera, present the off-worlders to the council."
It was a command, not a request. This creature demanded respect and… he (at least it seemed like a he) had it in spades. The senator accompanying the Starfleet officers spoke up. "Captains Kirk and Malbrook, Chancellor, with science and medical teams for anthropological research," Albera stated clearly into the silent room, so full of focus. The Chancellor frowned thoughtfully.
"Federation ambassadors?"
"Yes, Chancellor, of the USS Enterprise and Arbitory respectively."
A susurrus passed through the assembled parliament momentarily, until the Chancellor held up a thin, wrinkled hand and silence descended again. The alien leaned forward and observed the away teams with a kind of hard intelligence behind his world-weary eyes. "Which of you captains the ship to be stationed here?" Lucian stepped forward, observing Albera's warning to remain silent. The Chancellor gave him an appraising look. "State your name and business here, Captain."
Lucian let out a sigh of relief. "Captain Lucian Malbrook, Chancellor. I am in command of the USS Arbitory, a galaxy-class starship. My mission is to remain in the Meearan system until such time that I am relieved from my duties as a presence for the Federation should the Zixaan people require assistance in any way."
"Do you think you can adequately defend my people better than we can defend ourselves, Captain?"
Lucian knew he was being baited for an off-colour remark, but remained steadfast. "As you already know, Chancellor, your planet is entering an exciting time of awareness of the universe around it. You have just achieved warp capability and while that is admirable, you are vulnerable to many species which have had this kind of technology for many hundreds of years. Species that would seek to take your planet's natural resources for their own and your people as slaves. The Federation seeks only to protect your culture and to let it develop naturally. If you need our help, we plan to provide it."
The Chancellor looked to his two associates seated on either side of him, both equally as advanced in age as he. While the one to his left remained impassive and fixed the Captain with a stony glare, the politician to his right nodded almost imperceptively. The Chancellor returned his gaze upon the nervous Captain. "You seem genuinely concerned with our safety, Captain. Since we have no way of knowing exactly what kind of dilemmas face us as part of an interstellar faculty, we will accept your protection for the current standing."
"Thank you, Chancellor. The United Federation of Planets is honoured to welcome you into our family," Lucian replied graciously. Albera smiled wanly at him.
"Very well put for an off-worlder. The Chancellor is pleased."
He doesn't look it, Bones thought, eyeing the room casually. He wasn't impressed by the imposing nature of the room. What it said to him was something along the lines of trying-to-beat-down-the-opressed-while-looking-slicker-than-an-arcturan-fur-seal. It was pretentious in a hundred different ways and he was starting to feel uncomfortably fidgety. He shot a look over at the doctor from the Arbitory. Britannia, her name was. Britannia Charlotte. McCoy closed his eyes briefly and recalled her from the medical faculty of Starfleet Academy. There was a lot of whiskey involved somewhere along the line and for the life of him, he couldn't remember where. Or who. He remembered she was bright, but lazy back then. The type of student who passes without too much effort but with a little application could have done so much better. He relaxed for a moment, ah, now he remembered. The constant arguments in his tutorials, how could he forget? The woman was a champion debater and could argue until she was blue in the face!
Kirk cleared his throat quietly and nudged his chief medical officer in the ribs. "You're up, old man. They want to talk to you."
McCoy grunted and stepped forward, presenting himself for further scrutiny. The Chancellor looked over at Captain Malbrook. "You will present your medical representative also, Captain." Britannia shuffled forward, keeping her eyes averted from McCoy. Bones found this interesting, but considered that it might be wiser to pay attention to what the old man had to say. The Chancellor twisted his mouth thoughtfully and looked at them both. "You are trained Starfleet doctors?"
The answer came unanimously and affirmitive. McCoy was the first to continue. "We are here primarily under the directive of our respective captains, Chancellor. Our mission is to observe and to only assist where deemed necessary."
"Do you know how to treat a Zixaan, Doctor...?"
"McCoy, sir. Leonard McCoy. I don't claim to knowing exactly how the Zixaan systems work, but I'm certain I can speak on behalf of my colleague, Doctor Charlotte, when I say that we both are looking forward to learning much from your medical practitioners."
"Does your... colleague not have a voice of her own? Can she not tell me this herself?"
Britannia flushed scarlet, embarrassed by her own lack of confidence. She drew a deep breath, then met the Chancellor's steely look. "Of course, I have my own opinions, Chancellor. But since Doctor McCoy outranks me in seniority as a doctor, I am obliged to accept his decision on the majority of issues."
A faint smile curled the ends of the Chancellor's thin-lipped mouth. "The majority, Doctor?"
Bones groaned inwardly as Britannia bowed her head slightly. "We are fallible, Chancellor. Occasionally, even those in power must see things differently."
"Indeed," the Zixaan elder replied. He stood, causing the assembled politicians to rise with him. "I believe we have heard enough today. Senator Albera, please ensure our guests are suitably accommodated for the remainder of their stay and show Doctors McCoy and Charlotte to the capital's medical facility. I'm sure they are anxious to begin their reports."
"As you will it, Chancellor," Albera replied, bowing at the waist. The host turned swiftly and led the pack into the hall. Once out of sight of the Chancellor, Kirk breathed a sigh of relief.
"My God! I felt like I was up in front of the academic board again!"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain, these people are not so dissimilar in their political structure to the Vulcans. Perhaps I can speak with Senator Albera and maybe learn more about the way their hierarchy works."
Kirk nodded and turned to Albera. "Would this be acceptable?"
Albera nodded. "I can spare some time to educate Commander Spock on our parliament. You and Captain Malbrook are requested at a dinner tonight with the Chancellor. You will be staying in my villa close to the Halls of Parliament. I assure you that it is spacious enough to accommodate you all."
As the short Zixaan led them down the claustrophobic corridors and out into the dying sunlight, Kirk leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Bones. "You think Albera is a woman?"
"Jim, for once, can you attempt to think outside of your pants for a few minutes?" McCoy hissed angrily back. Being in Britannia's presence was making him irritable as they trundled down a rustic, paved street lined with leafy green trees and squat, painted houses behind the oblivious senator. That large amount of whiskey some where in their shared past was beginning to worry him...
The senator paused at a large building that resembled a robust, white-washed three-storey apartment building and treated the guests to a rare smile.
"Welcome to Albera headquarters," the Zixaan beamed proudly.
Author's Disclaimer: As usual, don't own anything already thought up by Gene Roddenberry and the other Star Trek writers. Special thanks this issue go to Gracy Vengeance and St. Valentine, along with the nineteen of you who "story alerted" The Hyde Complex. Honourary mention to Karl Urban, who is stupidly good-looking as McCoy. I'm completely besotted with him!
