Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Picard's version of diplomacy

Chapter 21

As Worf, Riker, and Picard stepped onto the bridge, Picard said, "Lieutenant Worf, open all channels to Kron."

In front of their command seats, he turned to Commander Riker. "I'm going to try a different tact. Perhaps if we tell them that their—fellow Kronatt is ill and may die if they don't advise us, they may have reason to answer."

"Well," said Riker, "At this point I don't think it could hurt. But suppose they think it best to retrieve the thing, tend to it with their own medicines, and tell us to get out of their territory?"

"Ah, that is where we pull a switcheroo."

Riker raised an amused eyebrow at his unpredictable commanding officer. "A what?"

Data, at the ops station turned a fascinated ear without losing his attention at the console.

Picard knew he was getting his second wind on this problem when he started using phrases from his secret passion, the old Earth detective novels. "Or to use more sophisticated terms, reverse our approach in order to gain the advantage."

Data nodded slightly to himself, having checked that his definition of the word in his internal American-Earth Slang Dictionary coincided with the meaning given by Captain Picard.

"All channels open, sir," said Worf.

"Greetings, Oh A's'kahn'a. Your fellow Kronatt, who was in company of Commander Riker here, has fallen ill. Do not be alarmed, however, because we are tending to him with every available medical facility. Please, advise."

Picard turned and told Worf to end the message. "Do not repeat it."

Riker asked, "I notice you didn't give any details, like that the thing is off my head. Was that on purpose?"

"Yes, I—"

Worf interrupted. "The Kronatina are responding, sir. Shall I put it on visual?"

"Yes, Mr. Worf. Now, Number One, we shall have to see what we can do."

The forward view screen was filled with several Kronatina, A's'kahn'a among them. "Are you prepared to—" He paused, obviously taking note of Commander Riker's bareheaded presence. Two other of the diplomats crowded in, their headdresses brushing one against the other. "Where is our fellow?" screamed A's'kahn'a. "What have you done with S's'haht'a?"

"Oh, A's'kahn'a, please, hear me out. As you can see, our Commander Riker has recovered. It was necessary to remove your fellow from him in order to help Commander Riker. To make sure we had not harmed our honored guest, we performed a medical exam on S's'haht'a. That exam determined an illness from a human virus. My medical staff, at this very moment, is working for a cure. We are, however at a loss as to S's'haht'a's physiology. Would you care to advise us?"

Again, their alarm came through the translator clearly. "We must see our fellow! You must allow us to tend to S's'haht'a."

Picard raised his hand in a placating manner. "Please, Oh A's'kahn'a, you could very well be as susceptible to our human virus. You cannot get it from us unless you touch us, but now that one of your fellows has it, you could contract it." The solicitousness in his voice fairly oozed with sweetness. "Once we make up an antibiotic for your friend, we can then be assured that you will be safe from the disease. At the moment, your fellow is receiving the best, most tender care we can devise. We are hoping, praying a swift recovery."

There was some shuffling amongst the group of Kronatina that brought the creatures on their heads briefly together. Finally, A's'kahn'a spoke. "We have fears. S's'haht'a, is not dead?"

"Please, rest assured S's'haht'a is alive." Picard looked, Riker noticed, like the cat that had swallowed the canary, innocently sly, confident of his position.

A's'kahn'a spoke so intently now that he hardly bobbed, "We would very much like to see my friend for ourselves. If you bring S's'haht'a to us, we will not hold your behavior up to now in ill favor."

Picard, practically exuberant, had to work to hide his feelings. "I'm afraid we can't do that." He looked around innocently. "We're currently investigating some rather anomalous behavior that my first officer, Riker here, exhibited while he hosted your friend. You see, I'm afraid we have reason to wonder if your motives for sharing your friend with us were entirely of good will."

The switcheroo had the exact effect Picard had desired. The Kronatt were doing the equivalent of blustering and spluttering. "What?"

Picard continued, "Your fellow's contact with our Commander Riker was not only deleterious to his health, but caused him to behave in a manner that we considered dangerous, not only in regard to other members of my crew, but possibly in regard to the ship itself."

"But how can this be?" came the question.

Picard ignored the remark and relentlessly drove on to his point. "Whether your fellow acted alone or acted under directions, we believe S's'haht'a may have gained access to information we consider to be highly confidential. Not only that, the manner in which Commander Riker was forced to behave, and the manner in which the information was gained, was by forcible telepathic control, which we consider to be reprehensible in the extreme!" Picard stopped and waited. In a maneuver such as this, innocent confidence was the key to a successful outcome.

A's'kahn'a seemed to be distracted by some bit of detritus on his chest. He brushed at his pelt and then scratched. Suddenly he started bobbing about and spoke, "Oh, Picard of the Federation, I hear your words and I am much concerned. We are all concerned. I am concerned for my friend, we are concerned for our fellow. You have accused S's'haht'a of a wrong, but you say you are giving care? You say you do not wish to expose us to the illness. I think that we, you, Oh Picard, and I, must talk. Is this not so?"

Picard's voice softened as he answered, "I think you understand. Our first concern, however, no matter what harm your fellow may have done, is to help. Would it be possible for our," Picard decided to veil the truth just a bit, in case they didn't consider their animals in the same light as humans did, "doctor, who is tending S's'haht'a, to speak with your physicians?"

A's'kahn'a turned away from the screen and began gesturing wildly, waving his grey furred arms up, down and about, waggling his hands. Apparently satisfied with something, he turned and addressed the screen, "We are calling our finest doctors available. They will come soon. Will your doctor bring S's'haht'a to this screen?"

Reality came up and caught Picard, but his quick, decisive mind leaped ahead with delight. "Oh! No, we'd like to reserve the device you are now using for furthering our own communications with you, personally. Ah, I have an idea." Picard hoped he was sounding inspired rather than conspiring, "We can transport down with another communication device, such as the one you are using now. Bring your medical people into the hall where we first met and we can set up a link with the, uh, doctor who is tending to our honored guest. They can confer with her, see that S's'haht'a is alive, and they can all join forces to bring him back to the same, uh, robust health before visiting us. May we do that?"

Again, they all shuffled and bowed together in the way that brought their carapaces in contact with the each other. Done with the ritual, A's'kahn'a spoke, as usual. "We would be grateful."

Picard's face relaxed in smiles, his chest began to expand. "We'll arrive shortly, then."

Communications were cut and Riker turned to Captain Picard, admiration evident on his face. "Nicely done, Captain. What'll you tell them when they ask why they couldn't use the com' unit they already have?"

"I just hope they're acquainted with the phrase about 'not looking a gift horse in the mouth'. It was the only thing I could think of to get us down there and talking face to face, again." He shrugged his shoulders.

"All right," Picard continued as he slapped his hands together and rubbed, "Let's get this back on track. Will, please contact Geordi and have him get one of the communications units ready for transport. I want it rigged so that it'll only link to the Menagerie, nowhere else, no matter who operates it. I'll meet him in the Transport Room in no less than fifteen minutes. Then arrange for the same Away Team as before."

"Aye, Sir," acknowledged Riker and went into the captain's ready room.

Picard turned. "Mr. Worf, hail the Ferengi vessel."

"They have just now contacted us, Sir."

"On screen." Picard was more than ready for them, now.

Not as upset as before, but not quite calm either, the face of Daimon Tar An came into view. "We notice you have managed to re-establish contact for yourself, but did not mention us. What nefarious purpose was there in that?"

Picard displayed his best used-car-dealer smile. "I was just about to contact you. As soon as we have them calmed down to where we can even resume our diplomatic negotiations, we'll be most pleased to introduce you. Since we leave our communications open for the sake of translation, you can listen in if you wish assurances." Picard wondered if the Daimon caught the unveiled barb.

The Ferengi's head twisted and turned in mistrust, making his metallic head decoration quiver. "And, just how long might calming them down take? And just what trade deals might you be making in another room behind our back to close us out? Picard, we are going to contact them on our own. We have no quarrel with them! We shall transport down and introduce ourselves!"

Picard's smile turned deadly sweet. "Of course you realize the Romulans are keeping close watch on the proceedings. A shame, really, their unreasonable dislike for your race. They, no doubt, would detect your presence on the surface and if they should decide to shoot at you while you are on the planet, we would be forced to retaliate on your behalf, of course. Unfortunately, they're excellent marksmen and some of your people might be killed first. I'm fairly certain they wouldn't shoot if you were in our company, but you use your best judgment."

The Ferengi's headdress froze. "Picard, I wouldn't put it past you not to have hired those thugs just to keep us from trading freely with Kron. How dare you? There are more than enough riches on those two planets for all of us! You just want to keep us out of any fair trade!"

"I am expected elsewhere at the moment. Please feel free to monitor our communications."

The metal dangles on the headdress flashed again, "Yes, yes. We may as well listen to how you plan to stab us in the back."

Picard turned his back on the screen. "Close the channel, Mr. Worf." As the view screen reverted to the view of the planet, Picard asked, "Mr. Worf, were the Romulans scanning our talk with the Ferengi?"

"No, sir. I believe they're too busy scanning the planet for weapons. They probably know we're scanning them and so are being careful to avoid being openly concerned with us."

As Riker entered again, Picard turned to him, "Number One, is everything ready?"

"Yes, sir, everything except for Deanna. She respectfully requests that she be allowed to finish a project in the Menagerie. She said that it shouldn't take more than an hour and that she could be available, if the need arises. She's waiting for your decision."

Biting his lip for a second, Picard answered, "Yes, I suppose that will do, although I'd rather not be without some sort of secondary interpretation, right now. Tell Deanna she may finish what she's doing and can come down at the earliest opportunity. Have Geordi send Lieutenant Bundawba with a portable link to Linguistics just as soon as he can get the gear together. I want him down there within seconds of my arrival. You have the bridge, Commander."

TBC to Chapter 22

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