MSPNPC Erbil — Da’al with it
Yogan Yalu
(( Ministry of External Relations, Capital Complex, Da’al ))
Well, curse it. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.
The official agenda for the day was light. Erbil had looked forward to knocking off early. No one consulted him before penciling in “Devastating meteor calamity” between “Check letterbox” and “Update register of Companions of the Order of Peace.”
Tecra, the unremarkable capital city of a province down south, had been hit. The communications and energy networks were all offline. Thousands had been killed, maybe even tens of thousands. Or more.
No one in the entire interim government—itself a misnomer, as it had been in place nearly three years—had any idea how to handle this. The factions and sub-factions were in uproar, and everyone seemed to think their group had the answer. Erbil knew that recommending they ask for offworld help might spell the end of Da’al foreign policy, maybe even Da’al society as they knew it. Even if it didn’t, it would certainly spell the end of his bureaucratic career.
And he was so close to retirement, too.
After the initial briefing and a moment of silence out of respect for those affected by the disaster, Erbil asked for a moment alone to consider their available options and await instructions from the Interim Great Council. The weight of the responsibility threatened to crush him. He was no young up-and-comer, nor did he have decades of experience in the military or in politics. He was just a lifelong civil servant who, thanks to luck and the bureaucratic shake-up following the failed coup, managed to rise all the way to Interim Secretary for External Relations. It was a posting whose demands exceeded his abilities, even before the tragedy in Tecra.
The chime on his door sounded. Erbil exhaled. He’d barely had a full minute to himself. Not that he needed it. Fate had made the decision for them. The Da’al needed help. It was just unfortunate that Erbil had to be the one to say it out loud.
Erbil: Come in.
Upovitt, one of Erbil’s newer staffers fresh from an academy somewhere in the plains provinces, entered the office. He was tall and stocky, probably grew up on a farm or a in company town where the youngsters spend summers working alongside their parents. Upovitt couldn’t have been much older than twenty, but he didn’t look so young anymore. The stress of the last several hours had already etched itself in his features.
Upovitt: Excuse me, Mister Interim Secretary. I’m sorry to interrupt you.
Erbil: Not at all, young man. ::beat:: It’s worse than we feared, isn’t it?
Upovitt: ::nods:: The local authorities in Tecra are overwhelmed. The entire city is in chaos. ::beat:: There was some talk amongst the Interim Great Council about asking the Klingons for help.
Erbil: ::scoffs:: It sounds like the Interim Great Council has some interim memory loss. I haven’t forgotten the role the Klingons played in the coup. Have you?
Upovitt: No, sir. And neither has the Interim Prime Minister. She agrees that the Federation is the only appropriate option. ::long beat:: And she asked if you would make the call. As a personal favor to her.
Erbil tried to suppress a rueful chuckle, but it came out anyway. Of course the Interim Prime Minister would have a career bureaucrat do the politically unpopular work of calling for help. Even in the depths of chaos and disaster, a politician had to consider the optics of every action.
Erbil: Of course I will make the call. ::beat:: Please go fetch my ambassador’s hat and get the nearest Starfleet facility on subspace.
TBC
Erbil
Interim Secretary for External Relations
Da’al Interim Government
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