Miss Squeenie McPimpalot (chaletian) wrote,
Miss Squeenie McPimpalot
chaletian

[ST/TWW] This Is What's Next :: PG-13 :: Gen :: 1/1

Title: This Is What’s Next
Author: chaletian
Fandom: Star Trek XI/The West Wing
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For the film
Summary: In the aftermath, the President of the Federation has to deal with the fallout. TWW fusion. Because we all knew it was going to happen…



“The Federation Council is still trying to find a way to move forward following the shocking destruction of Vulcan. In the meantime, every effort is being made to find a home for the survivors, who include the majority of the Vulcan High Council.” CJ Cregg, the press secretary to the executive branch of the United Federation of Planets, resisted the urge to sigh. “I know you will all appreciate that this is a very difficult time. The loss of Vulcan and those Starfleet ships that were present has been an enormous shock, and at the moment we are trying to focus on the immediate necessities of ensuring planetary security and helping the survivors. I’ll not be taking questions now, but there will be a further press briefing at twenty hundred, and we will hopefully have more information then.” And with that, CJ left the podium quickly, handing off her padd to her assistant.

“This is bad,” said Carol, and CJ rolled her eyes.

“You think? Where is everyone?”

“Leo’s room. They want you in there.”

‘Everyone’, it became apparent, as CJ drew closer to Leo’s office, included the President himself.

“And what,” Jed Bartlet was saying, “was Barnett thinking, sending ships crewed with cadets? Someone get me Starfleet on the comm., I want to talk to him!”

“He was thinking that the rest of the fleet was in the Lawrentian system, and Vulcan needed our help,” replied Leo, prudently sliding his comm behind a monitor. “And yes, Mr President, there are questions that need to be asked, and there will have to be a full enquiry, but for the time being we have bigger problems on our hands.” He glanced up as CJ entered. “How’s the press?”

“As stunned as the rest of us,” said CJ. “Which is all to the good, because they weren’t in the mood to push. Give them a few hours, and they’ll be up our asses, though. How the hell did this happen?”

“Superior force,” said Tobin, the only Vulcan on the President’s senior staff. “A fairly inevitable outcome.”

“What about survivors?” demanded the President. “Is there any word on that yet?”

“Approximately three thousand were able to leave Vulcan,” replied Tobin. “We should have a more accurate count in the next day or two.” He consulted a padd. “There are currently forty-seven Vulcan Starfleet members who are on duty elsewhere, and a further thirty-four at the Academy. According to the Vulcan Embassy in London, there are one hundred and thirty-six Vulcans resident on Earth; we don’t yet have figures for other planets.” He was silent for a moment. “It is important that the member planets be reassured that…”

“Never mind that,” interrupted Bartlet. “We’ll worry about crafting the message later. For now, we need to make sure everyone’s safe.” He looked to Leo. “Everyone’s safe, right?”

Leo allowed a smile. “Yes, sir. Admiral Womack at Starfleet confirmed that the Romulan ship, the Narada, was destroyed by the USS Enterprise.”

“And that’s more of an issue,” said Josh Lyman. “Sir, finding somewhere for the survivors to go, dealing with the press – that’s not the problem.”

“And what is the problem, Josh?” asked Bartlet.

“The Romulans,” replied Josh. He considered this. “The Romulans and everyone else.” He glanced at Leo for support. “Sir, a Romulan ship just destroyed an entire planet. If the intelligence we’re getting is correct, the same ship was responsible for the destruction of the USS Kelvin twenty-five years ago, and group of Klingon ships a few days ago.” He scratched a hand through his hair. “Nobody’s very happy with the Romulans at the moment.”

“Are we ever happy with the Romulans?” asked CJ.

“Hey, we’re neighbours, we get along,” said Josh. CJ raised an eyebrow.

“We have a neutral zone between us,” she pointed out.

Josh shrugged. “Who didn’t wish they had a neutral zone?” At the President’s look, he waved a hand. “Look, all I’m saying is, people are getting antsy. According to back channels, the Klingon High Council is demanding an apology, and reparations, and something about the honour of the Klingon Empire. The Romulan Praetor has been denying all knowledge of the attack, but he’s not being exactly apologetic.”

“What about Council members?” asked Leo.

“Worried. They want to know if we’re anticipating any further attacks, if the situation is going to worsen between Qo’noS and Romulus. The member for the Andorians keeps walking past my office looking martial.”

“What’s Starfleet say about all this?” asked CJ.

“They’re sure this wasn’t an attack by the Romulans per se,” said Leo, and CJ nodded.

“We should feed that to the press, then, see if we can’t calm the flames.”

Bartlet nodded. “Yes, do let’s try avoiding interplanetary war as long as possible. CJ, talk to the press. Josh, try and calm the members down. Tobin, talk to Rajesh in the Bureau of Settlement, and liaise with the Vulcan High Council and the Vulcan Ambassador about finding somewhere for the survivors.”

“We should do something about Enterprise,” interrupted CJ. “We could do with the positive press. It’ll make people feel the Federation can defend its own.”

“An illogical feeling, since it is clearly untrue,” said Tobin, and the others looked at him.

“Tobin, I am truly sorry about--- ”

“Mr President, your sympathy is kind but unnecessary. No blame should be attached to either this office, or Starfleet. The actions of the ship Narada were entirely unforeseeable.”

“Yes,” conceded Bartlet, “but your planet was destroyed, and for that I am sorry.”

There was a moment’s silence, broken by CJ. “Sir – the Enterprise?”

“Leo?”

“Captained by Pike, who was taken hostage by the Romulan known as Nero,” said Leo briefly. “Command was taken first by Commander Spock, and then by Ensign Kirk, who led the ship to defeat Nero.”

“Kirk – I know that name,” said Bartlet, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. Leo checked his padd.

“His father was George Kirk.”

“He saved the crew of the Kelvin,” said Josh. Bartlet raised an eyebrow.

“Well, there’s irony for you,” he said. “Get ‘em over here. Least we can do is say thank you after they saved our collective butts.”

“About that,” said Leo. “Apparently Kirk was on academic suspension when the distress signal came. According to Barnett, the Academy is considering whether to expel him.”

“Barnett!” exclaimed Bartlet. “What is the matter with that man? Leo, I want to talk to him. What, he sends half the Academy off to fight Romulan crackpots from the future, but he behaves like an old woman when he gets a cadet who can deal with it?” He pointed at each of the others. “You! Go and do some work instead of lolling round here! Find somewhere for Vulcan to resettle. Stop the Klingons and the Romulans and whoever the hell else declaring war on each other. Tell the press if they run one more story about me and that ceremonial statue from Scalos they’re all banned from the building. Now,” he continued, alone with Leo, “what’s next?”

THE END




A/N: Meh. Meh, meh, meh. I'm not sure about this; I'm not sure about how it came out. What do people think? Constructive criticism welcomed!
Tags: fic, star trek, the west wing
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