Runner Up 1 20306.22

Nox Voce - LCdr Aitrus Colso

© 2003 by Federation Space and the author pen named Aitrus Colso

Ephal sat back at her desk, the Eiffel Tower behind her, glinting in the sunlight. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, and tried to make sense of the reports on her desk from the various starships. So, we now have a temporary alliance with the Romulans that could degrade at any minute, Species 8472, Tholian, and Mirak starships in the system who may or may not be allied with us, and we’ve lost all of our starbases along with most the fleet, from what I can glean from all these reports. She sighed, tossed a padd from her lap back onto the desk, and leaned her head back in the sunlight, ignoring the piles on either side of her desk. “Well, at least the fight’s over.” She chuckled, and thought, What more do the Prophet’s think that the Federation’s first Bajoran president can handle?

As if in answer, a transporter hum whined in the air in front of her. Ephal looked up in alarm. I wasn’t serious, she thought, praying a quick apology to the Prophets, just in case. She wondered if this was some sort of cruel joke They were playing on her. Even they have a sense of humor, I guess.

She watched as the beam materialized in the center of her desk, revealing a Klingon padd. What in Jalbador—? She picked it up and looked at the display. She was even more surprised when she saw that the display was a standard Cardassian shatterframe design. I think it was one of these Earth authors who said long ago, ‘Curiouser and Curiouser.’ They knew what they were talking about every once in a while.

On the display, there was a single file highlighted, and she opened it. It was a text file, written in Federation standard linguacode. At least it’s something I can read. With all these documents that come across my desk in Federation linguacode, I’d better be able to. She read it, and then read it again. She had only one reaction to it: utter surprise. She might have been afraid, if the tone had been different. She might even have been happy, had the implications of what she’d read not been so real. Instead, she just hit her comm button, opening a line to her secretary. “Varlan.”

“Yes, ma’am?” he said.

“Get the secretaries of state and war and my science advisor in here now. I don’t care if they were in the middle of a meeting, in the bath, or if they’re drunk, get them in here now.” The tone of her voice would most likely have cowed even military officers. Except Beckett. But I think that even he would react to this.

It showed in Varlan’s voice. “Aye, ma’am.”

She tapped the padd on the edge of her desk. Can this be true? After all these years, can we trust them, and more importantly, should we? After what seemed like forever but couldn’t have been more than half an hour, the three adjuncts arrived. Solon, her secretary of state, seemed just as crisp as ever. If he had been surprised by her summons, then he didn’t show it. That Vulcan wouldn’t do anything if I told him that the universe was about to end. Okay, so maybe he’d raise an eyebrow, but that’s it. The science advisor, a Trill named Harin Merol, looked a bit ruffled, and she was giving Ephal a look that said, ‘What is this all about?’ The secretary of war was the last to arrive. The human, retired Star Fleet Admiral Ben Taylor, was more than just a bit ruffled. From the look in his eyes, he had been asleep when Varlan had gotten to him. He was sleeping in today. Must be on vacation.

Once all three were seated in front of her, she started speaking. “This meeting, until otherwise noted, is to remain classified, SECRAT 8.” Harin looked at her strangely, while Solon and Ben didn’t react. All that was classified at rating eight was… I can’t think of anything that’s rating eight. Then again, they might not be able to tell me if anything is. And only seven people in the Federation had that type of clearance. Everyone except Merol in the office had that clearance, as did Beckett, who was just too busy to be bothered right now. I’ll have to brief him later, though. Other than that, the list was even classified. “You are allowed access to this info, Harin, because I need your opinion on this.” She looked over the three briefly, then continued.

“There are things that I’m about to tell you, that if they got out, they could get out of hand.” She waited for all three to give their assent, and then held up the padd. “Less than two hours ago, this was transported onto my desk. It appeared in a standard Federation transporter beam. It’s a Klingon padd, with a Cardassian interface, and having a file on it in Federation linguacode. That was more than enough to make me curious.” She glanced up at her science advisor, and saw her eyes wide with curiosity. “The file says, basically, that the Terran and Vulcan Rebellions in the Mirror Universe have joined together, and have been able to drive the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance back from the core worlds of the former Terran Empire. They have started a new government for all the worlds they have liberated from the Alliance, a democratic system, and are calling themselves the First Republic. They have requested an audience with the Federation, for recognition by us, and to open diplomatic exchanges ‘across the Looking Glass,’ to use their own words. This is, needless to say, a huge surprise, and yet one more problem to add to the list right now. Any comments?” All three started speaking at once, so Ephal held up her hand. “One at a time, one at a time. Harin.” She pointed to the science advisor.

“Thank you, Madame President. I think that you realize that every single scientist in the Federation has wanted to study the Mirror Universe, well, ever since its existence was revealed. Whether they are astrophysicists trying to figure out why it is tied to our universe, or biologists studying the same species in two universes, they all want a chance to get there. By the caves, even the psycohistorians want a piece of this, to figure out how our two universes are so close, yet so different. Granted, this could be a dangerous situation, but it is not something that we can pass up.” She leaned back in her chair, and nodded slightly to Ephal.

“Okay, then. Admiral Taylor, what’s you’re opinion on this?” He straightened up and looked at everyone briefly before speaking.

“Madame President, I personally believe that we cannot trust this. It proclaims peace, something that the Mirror Universe, by all reports, has never known. Everything that we’ve ever seen out of them has always been war. First the Terran Empire taking over everything in sight, then a hundred years later with the Terran Rebellion fighting the brutal Alliance, which had decimated the Imperial forces long before. Not thirty years ago, some of them tried to replicate an entire fleet of our Sovereigns in the Goldin Discontinuity in order to wage war not only on the Mirror Universe, but ours as well. And that after they built a Defiant using plans they stole from us, and then kidnapping Ben Sisko to fix the engine imbalance. We can’t trust them. While this is a political decision, I recommend strong caution in this matter, and that we not trust them too much. If I made the decision, though, I wouldn’t trust them at all.” He sighed, and then nodded.

“Thank you, Admiral. Solon, what’s your take on this situation?”

With true Vulcan grace, he nodded, and then spoke. “Madame President, with just the information that you have given me, I cannot decide on any true course of action. I would recommend, though, that we do invite some representatives from this so-called ‘First Republic,’ and find out more of what they are doing. I would have to agree with both of my colleagues in that this is both ‘too good to ignore’ and ‘too good to be true.’ We must proceed with extreme caution, but still, we must proceed.”

Ephal sighed. “Good enough.” She tapped a few commands on the Klingon padd and then nodded to the three of them. “The document is now on your padds. You all know the regulations on the use of classified materials, and the punishments for breaking them. They apply to this even more so than any others you’ve ever received.” She turned slightly to Solon. “At the end of the document are instructions on contacting them. Do so, and set up a meeting ASAP.” She turned to Ben. “Admiral, I want you to coordinate with Solon to provide security, and also work with Harin here on trying to find out everything we can about their infrastructure, their stability, technologies, everything. If it’s out there where we can find it, I want it found.” She looked over at Harin. “That is your only priority. I don’t care what you were doing before, this is all your doing now. Everyone, then, let’s get to work.” She stood. The adjuncts in front of her stood just a beat after she did, and then filed out to get started.

Ephal collapsed back into her chair. Sighing, she thought to herself, Prophets, why did you choose for me to do this? Evidently, you think that I can handle it.

But I don’t see how.

“How do you think she will respond?” the Vulcan asked the woman he sat across from. “Most of our previous encounters with them have ended rather poorly. I have my doubts about this one.”

The woman sighed. She rubbed the ridges of her nose, and then said, “If it were me, I’d have to at least try to make contact. After all, the Federation is all about ‘seeking new life,’ isn’t it? And this is the ultimate place to try and find it, and to rediscover the ones they’ve already found. But then again, it is up to me in a way.” Ephal laughed. It was a weird feeling, on many levels. I’d always known I had a double out there, ever since the Alliance conscripted me to try and have me infiltrate that universe. But actually writing to myself? I thought that I’d see the Prophets first. “Solon, we’ve done everything we could to make them contact us that we know how to do. Let’s go on and get some sleep. That way we can deal with what they decide better.”

He nodded, and said, “In that case, I bid you good night.” Then he turned and left her quarters. She chuckled, still wondering just why he kept up that manner, and lay down on her bed. She could barely tell that the gravity was mostly from generators deep beneath the surface. It was only because she had so rarely felt real gravity that she could tell. So many ships, so many lost friends from them. She shook her head and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Three days later, Solon came back into Ephal’s office to report on his interdimensional communications with the Republican government. Ephal waved the Vulcan to a seat, and after sitting down, the Vulcan began speaking.

“Madame President, after consulting with both Science Minister Harim and Admiral Taylor, I have decided that the risks entailed in initiating diplomatic overtures with this Republic in the Mirror Universe are acceptable, and will be beneficial to both parties in the long run. I have proposed a meeting between their ministers and ours, to take place two days from now. That is, of course, if you have no objections to this.”

“Of course, Secretary,” she said. “This is why I asked you to handle it, because I trust your judgment. Continue.”

Solon nodded, and then did go on. “I’ve arranged a meeting between the government officials they have appointed, including their secretary of state and of war. Oddly enough, they are a Vulcan named Solon, and a human named Benjamin Taylor, respectively.” He raised an eyebrow. “And their president is a Bajoran woman named Ephal Norva.”

That made Ephal balk. They’re the same as us? Is this some cruel joke, or something even worse? “And they want to meet us, I take it?” Solon nodded. “Then let’s do it, and see what the mirror shows. Go ahead and set everything up, Solon. Just send the itinerary directly to me; bypass my secretary. This is too sensitive to tell him anything about it.” Solon once again nodded, and then stood up and left.

Ephal lowered her head, and rubbed her nose ridges. This just keeps getting better and better. Prophets protect me, but I don’t know how we’re going to keep this thing together. Every day seems to bring something new to tear the Federation apart with. She sighed, and then started half-heartedly going about the paperwork covering her desk.

“They’ve decided to meet with us, Madame President,” Solon told her. Ephal’s office seemed a bit cramped, but so did everything here, especially since there were no windows in the entire complex. After all, what was there to look at on the moon? Sure, the one in the Federation was pretty, but it was terraformed. This one was still just a hunk of inert rock swinging through space around another lifeless rock, although that one used to be teeming with life. “In two days,” Solon continued with little pause, “in the city of Sydney, Australia.” No surprise there, she thought. They wouldn’t very well hold the meetings here, even if they wanted to, and the offices in either Paris or San Francisco are too sensitive to allow potential enemies into. She chuckled inwardly.

“What reaction did you get when they saw who they were going to talk to?” She knew very well what reaction that would be, but thought she would ask anyway.

Solon raised an eyebrow, and then said, “None. Their secretary of state is my own duplicate, after all. And as a Vulcan, he remained as stoic as ever.” Ephal nodded, and then waved him a dismissal. He nodded, and then left her cramped office to go to his own, which was slightly smaller. I wasn’t sure that was possible, but they did it somehow. She sighed, and then started to attempt and clear her desk of paperwork before she left.

It wasn’t easy. The delegates to the First Republican Congress were finally sending in their reports. They were mostly the rebellion leaders that had been fighting these past years, and had no political training whatsoever. But then, not a person in the entire Mirror Universe had that type of training anymore, with the possible exception of the Tholians. No one knows anything about their politics, so they could very well be democratic. I might have to contact them at some point. But that was neither here nor there, so she dismissed it and got back to work.

Three days later, Ephal called her senior staff back in for another conference on what they had dubbed the Reflection affair. “So, I’m assuming that the meeting went well yesterday?” she asked Solon.

“Madame President, I must confess that it was a…disconcerting experience.” After her long experience with Vulcans, she knew that ‘disconcerting’ must have been a gross understatement. He continued, “They did strive to avoid having any other duplicates at the summit, and in the interest of secrecy, we conducted the actual meetings in seclusion, with only myself, Advisor Harin, and Admiral Taylor, and, of course, our counterparts. Our respective aides did mingle to some extent, performing reconnaissance while we were actually conducting the talks. We tried to gain as much information from them as possible, but I am still unsure of the value of that data. In the actual meetings, we were able to obtain a large amount of data about the political situation in the Mirror Universe, although much of it had a martial and propaganda-style overtone to it, as we would have thought.”

Ephal nodded, and then asked Solon, “Suggestions?”

“I would recommend sending an independent observer ‘through the looking glass’ as they say, so as to ascertain the veracity of the data. If this proves unworkable, then we will have to find another method of verifying what they told us.”

Ephal nodded her agreement. “Depending on the other side of a negotiation for data is at best unreliable and often proves fatal to the negotiation.” She turned to Ben. “You think that could work? And what are the odds of it going undetected?”

He harrumphed at her. He’s getting too old for this, she thought. But he’s the best advisor I’ve got. He replied, “Odds of getting a ship into the Mirror Universe? Probably wouldn’t be too hard. Toughest part would be finding a ship captain with the clearance to perform the mission. As for going undetected by the supposed Republic?” He sighed. “To be honest, I have no idea. Since we have absolutely no intel about their forces, I can’t begin to guess how hard it would be to infiltrate. But I must agree with my colleague here that we must do our own scouting to figure out what on Earth we’re dealing with.”

“So we’re back to a…what’s the old Earth expression?” She thought for a moment, noticing Harin staring at her quizzically, then found it. “Yes, a Catch-22.” While her advisors understood her odd hobby of reading old Earth books, the meaning slipped by them. She looked at the blank gazes, and explained, “The Kobyashi Maru of the day. No matter what this air crew did, they couldn’t win.” She watched as the information visibly clicked, and then continued. “So, to summarize what the good Admiral said, we have to find out what we’re dealing with, but we can’t know if we’ll succeed or not until we know what we’re dealing with.” She got an appreciative chuckle from Harin, a solemn nod from Ben, and the same stoic look from Solon that he always gave. What’d you expect? Laughter? She almost laughed herself at the image she was getting from that.

She sighed instead, and said, “All right. Ben, contact Beckett and ask him who we’ve got that can be trusted with this mission. If he recommends himself, tell him I said a resounding ‘No,’ and then restate the question. If nothing else, we’ll recall the Avenger and send it.” She thought for a moment, and then said, “There’s always Project Sign, but then again, I wouldn’t trust them any farther than from here to the seat of the Federation.” No one said a word, as Ben was the only one who had any idea what she was talking about. As it should be. If they knew about the most secret organization in the Federation, then things are getting worse than I thought. “Alright, do you have anything to add, Harin?”

The Trill thought for a moment, and then looked back up at Ephal. With a sigh, she finally said, “Madame President, while I’m not sure that it would be in the best interest of the scientists of the Federation, I’m afraid that I must concur with my colleagues on this point. We cannot go into negotiations blind, as that would be a disaster beyond belief. I’ll have to urge you to go with their plan.”

Ephal stood, signaling that the meeting was almost over. As the others followed her lead, she said, “Well, since everyone is in agreement, I approve of the plan. Ben, get on it right away. Tell Jon what he needs to know, and only what he needs to know. While he has the clearance to know, the fewer people that know the full extent of what’s going on, the better. Thank you.” They bowed slightly, and made their way out the doors to get back to work. What a hassle it must be to have to report to me so often. But hey, that’s my job: keep the people who do the real work in line and on task. She laughed slightly to herself. “When’d you become so cynical?” she asked no one quietly. She picked up a padd and got back to work, trying to make sense of it all.

“I’ve already told you, Jon. She gave me an emphatic ‘no’ to you going on this mission. There’s no ifs, ands or buts about it, you’ve got to find someone else.” Ben Taylor was getting tired of going over this point so much, but Fleet Admiral Beckett was adamant about it.

“Ben, you know as well as I do that there are maybe, and I stress maybe, three or four captains in the fleet who have the clearance level to do it, along with our trust in the matter, and then the know-how to get in and out of the Mirror Universe without being detected. Out of those few, I’ve only got one of them accounted for, and he’s in no shape to go out and do this.” Beckett was in his duty uniform, but neither one noticed. They had been friends since they were fleet commanders during the invasion of Cardassia, and so stood on little formality, even though this was a formal meeting between the civilian and military authorities of the Federation.

Ben stood up from his chair and leaned on the conference table beside Beckett, facing the stars outside the Starbase Alpha conference room. “Look, Jon, we may not be as close as we were back during the General War, but you’ve just got to do this for me. Find someone, anyone, who we can trust not to let this out. As long as they’ve got a good ship and crew, a closed mouth, and the intelligence to get out of sight quickly if someone comes upon them, then they’ll do. We can handle the security clearance later, but we need someone now.” Ben looked down at the padds that Jon had sitting in front of him. “Just one ship. That’s all we need. Now, who can you send?”

Beckett sighed, and picked up a padd containing the personnel that were currently on Starbase Alpha. Scrolling through the lists, a single name caught his eye. “Does it have to be a full starship? Or do you just need someone who can get in, find out what you need, and get out quickly?”

Ben was intrigued. A minute ago, he would’ve just told me that he was the only one who could do it. Who on earth did he see that would make him change his mind? “Who’ve you got? I’m assuming that they’re in Star Fleet Intel, or am I mistaken?”

“You’re close,” Jon said. “The only reason I know them is that it took a fellow admiral to even get them a commission. The rest of the General Staff wouldn’t have given him a glass of water if he had been wandering the Plains of Kholinar for three weeks straight.” Jon looked up at Ben, and leaned back smiling. “He was recommended by an old friend of yours, Admiral Lokar. The man’s a pilot on the Republic, Lieutenant junior grade Raklan. He’s a Romulan, late of both the Tal’Shiar and the Unificationist movement.”

Ben sighed and shook his head. “A Romulan? You’ve got to be kidding me.” He chuckled slightly. “You seriously think that we can trust a Romulan with issues of security to the Federation?” Ben stood up from where he’d been leaning and walked to the window.

Jon turned around. “Your own former FO stood up for him, Ben. Plus, who else would he support? The Romulans? There’s a death warrant on him there that could be served if he even sticks a finger in Romulan space. And really, he’s only got us to turn to. He’s shown his loyalty many times, including during this latest debacle with the Borg.” Jon stood up and stood next to Ben. “Ben, he’s already a trained operative who can handle his own ship. He has no ties to Intelligence, so they’re out of the loop, and he really has no where else to go. Plus, it’s either him, or you stick me in a fighter and I go.” Jon smiled, trying to break the tension which had built in the room.

Ben responded in kind, and then nodded. “Alright. Let’s pull him in and send him through the looking glass. We’ll have to get a non-Federation fighter for him to use, though. They know all about ours, and will no exactly if we’ve sent one through.”

“I can take care of that,” Jon said. “When he defected, he brought a Romulan fighter with him, which we’ve still got in storage down on Earth. As a nice bonus, it even has a cloaking device for him to use.”

“Very good. He’ll have to cross through the Bajoran Wormhole, as that’s the only place we’ve been able to do it, well, ever. At least with a ship. Just do whatever you need to do to get him through and back before the end of next week. I’ll be looking for a report by then telling me either what he found out, or telling me when I can expect that report.” With that, they shook hands, and Ben left the conference room so Jon could get back to work.

Raklan sighed as he strapped into his fighter, the old T’Liss he had flown back when he’d escaped the Tal’Shiar. Has it really been 25 years? he asked himself. He pressed the ignition, and the ship seemed to nudge him as the anti-grav engaged, as if it were happy to see him again. He patted the console in front of him. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, old friend?” he told the ship.

“Lieutenant Raklan, you are cleared for lift-off. Have a safe trip.” The flight control officer flashed the procedures and flight plan onto the front display once he had cleared the channel.

“Aye, sir.” Raklan closed the channel and began the lift-off sequence. The hanger doors in front of him opened, revealing the Rocky Mountains stretching off into the distance. He didn’t have much time to look, though, as his impulse engines engaged and he shot into space. Once he had cleared the system, he set course for Bajor at maximum warp.

I still can’t believe they pulled me in for this mission. Sure, I know of the Mirror Universe. After all, who doesn’t? But to be told to go spy on them is something else entirely. He sighed and looked at his sensors. Seeing nothing nearby, he hit the cloak and slipped the remainder of his trip through the looking glass undetected.

Ben Taylor and Admiral Jon Beckett filed into Ephal’s office, padds in hand. She stood and waved them to the two chairs in front of her. “Be seated, gentlemen.” They all sat in near unison. “So,” she began. “I assume this is about that pilot you sent across two weeks ago. You finally heard back from him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beckett said. “We’ve received an accumulated report from a message buoy beamed back to our universe. In truth, it was beamed directly onto my desk. Anyway, it contained every detail of his travels in and about Republic space.” He slid a padd across the desk to her.

Ben talked as Ephal scanned the padd. “You are aware that the Mirror Universe lags behind our technology in virtually every capacity except for transport technology, from which the concept of interdimensional beaming comes into play. However, this report paints a picture of a Republic with exactly the same technology we have.”

“And more than that, madam president,” Beckett added. “Their fleet has exactly the same compliment of ships that we have, of the same types, and, even more startling, with the same crews as ours.”

“They’ve been copying our missions, as well, whenever possible or necessary,” Ben said. “When one of our missions is unnecessary or totally unworkable, they will take the spirit, if you will, or the order, and make a new mission somewhere where that will be needed.

Ephal looked up at the two men. “But evidently something went wrong, or else they wouldn’t try and change it.”

Ben nodded, but Beckett spoke first. “The Armageddon Directive happened. When we dispatched all of our ships on missions designed to save the Federation from a Borg takeover, the Republic couldn’t use those missions to dispatch their own ships. They had nothing to tell their ships. The commanding officers began to be restless and uneasy. The government couldn’t tell them that all of the missions had come from our universe, as that would undermine their authority. With all of their officers being former rebels, the government knew that it would not take much to slip over into rebellion once again. And so they do the only thing they can do.”

Ben broke in. “They come to us to seek help directly. Going off of what I’ve read in these reports, the goals they gave us to start with are not what they really want. Recognition and more diplomacy, while well and good, do not sit well with these people. They know that they don’t have the training to be diplomats or to lead starships. Give them a small guerilla force and they can do all sorts of things, but when it comes to leading a 500-man starship, or one even bigger, they can’t do it, especially if it’s a science ship.”

“So what is it that they do want?” Ephal asked. “Admission to the Academy? To serve under some of our officers to learn the ways of command?”

Beckett and Ben looked at each other. Beckett turned back and said, “As a matter of fact, ma’am, we believe that the answer to that is yes. They know that they have a lot to learn, but are too proud to come right out and ask it. They know that we’ve always seen them as reflections of ourselves, as they do us. They also know that we are in truth more advanced than they are. They want to be able to stand up with us as equals, but they also think that we won’t help them do it.”

“In short, madam president, we can play the twin cards of technology and training at the negotiating table to get them to agree to most anything,” Ben summarized. “Once we offer what they want, they will most likely be friendlier to our suggestions.”

Ephal nodded, and then stood up, followed a beat later by the two men. “Thank you, gentlemen, for your insights into this matter. I’ll be sure to pass the substance of this meeting on to Secretary of State Solon.” The two men nodded slowly to her, and then walked out of her office. Once they were out of the room, Ephal sat back down.

“Computer, send the audio recording of the previous meeting to Solon, priority 1,” she instructed the computer.

“Acknowledged,” the familiar female computer voice said. “Sending file.” A beep from her console signaled that it was done.

Ephal leaned back in her chair, thinking over the meeting. This could give us just the upper hand we need in these negotiations. With a smile, she grabbed a padd off her desk and read over the latest legislation from the Council.

Solon met with his counterpart two days after Ephal’s meeting with Ben and Admiral Beckett. The meeting lasted only a few hours before the mirror Solon went back to discuss the terms of the treaty with his president. Five days later, the Federation President met with her Secretary of State prior to the final ceremony to sign the Mirror Treaty, as it had come to be called.

“Yes, madam president,” Solon was saying. “The information which you provided me proved useful, although I believe that there was some other motivation behind their quick agreement to our terms.” He sat rigid in his chair, even though atmosphere was as relaxed as Ephal could make it in her office.

“Really,” Ephal said. “Such as?”

“Their constant military attitude,” Solon began. “They believe that we are out to conquer them. This is a natural reaction, as all that the Mirror Universe has ever seen has been war and conquest. Upon our revelation that we had discovered exactly what they desired, my counterpart realized that he had lost the upper hand, and so he closes negotiations quickly in order to regroup for another attempt later on. However, he cannot turn down our offer, as that is what his government truly wanted out of these negotiations, and so he must agree. I believe that you called his position a ‘Catch-22,’ if my memory serves.”

“Yes, I did,” Ephal agreed. “He didn’t want to accept our offer as it gave us dominance. However, it also gave him exactly what he wanted, and so he could not reasonably pass it up.” She shook her head, and then looked directly at Solon. “That military nature will do its best to undermine this alliance, won’t it?”

“Yes, madam President,” he replied. “We will not be able to maintain this treaty for a long period of time. However, it will also lay the groundwork for future negotiations when the people on both sides of the ‘looking glass’ are ready for them.”

Ephal nodded, and then stood up. “Peace must always be given its chance,” she said. Ephal walked around her desk to where Solon was standing, and they both then left her office to the signing ceremony. “Always.”