Part 6 (2/2)
But the Enterprise had sailed through with nary a whisper from the Sindareen and had settled into orbit around Sindar while attracting nothing more than a muted greeting from the planetary government and an a.s.surance that delegates would shortly be prepared to beam up to the Enterprise to begin the hammering out of a peace settlement between the Sindareen and their longtime opponents.
Those delegates were now seated at the head of the table and were paying polite attention to Picard as he rapped for silence.
When all was silent, Picard spoke. ”The Federation is, at its heart, an organization dedicated to peace. So a mission such as this one is always particularly gratifying, since we are fulfilling the most fundamental function of the United Federation of Planets. I extend welcome once more to the delegates of the Cordians, the Luss, and the Byfrexians.” As he mentioned each one, he raised his gla.s.s and moved it slightly in the direction of each in acknowledgment. ”And now, it is my honor to welcome the delegates from the Sindareen... Amba.s.sador Nici, and her retainer, Eza.”
Nici slowly rose. She was tall, with her coal-black hair swept up and back, exposing her long, narrow throat. Her mouth barely moved when she spoke-instead, the sound issued predominantly from the nictating membranes that fluttered at the base of her neck.
”It is... our honor,” she said carefully, ”to meet with our... a.s.sociates... in a place other than the battlefield. I have advocated the putting aside of hostilities for many years now. Our leaders have finally accepted the inevitability of...”
She paused, and immediately Picard knew why. She was waiting for one of the delegates to be cla.s.sless enough to finish the sentence with the word defeat.
No one said anything, but simply waited expectantly and courteously.
”...compromise,” Nici concluded after a respectable pause.
Picard was pleased that the initial thrust from the Sindareen had worked out so smoothly, as they all raised their gla.s.ses and drank. He, along with the other delegates, knew perfectly well that the Sindareen used language as yet another weapon-to probe, prod, and generally to try to trip up potential opponents and reveal their true mindsets. So no one at the table had any desire or intention of falling into one of the renowned Sindareen verbal traps.
Seated next to Nici, and just to Deanna's right, was Eza, Nici's aide. Eza was darker complexioned than Nici-perhaps a resident of another province, Riker figured. Eza had a dark scowl on his face and seemed even less enthused with the proceedings than Nici. But at least he properly kept his own counsel, and Riker hoped that Eza would not serve as any sort of impediment to the proceedings.
Also, Eza did seem capable of being swayed-the only times he smiled during the meal were when Deanna would engage him in conversation. He seemed grateful for the attention, and several times throughout the course of the meal he actually laughed rather boisterously, his sictating membranes flapping with furious speed. It seemed quite a positive sign. Clearly, Riker thought, the counselor's ability to charm people was not limited solely to Riker himself.
By the end of the dinner, everyone seemed in high spirits. It was as upbeat a beginning as anyone could have hoped.
Still, Riker and Picard managed to sidle up to Deanna during a leisurely time afterward, when the delegates had broken up into smaller groups and were chatting informally with each other. The full meetings were scheduled to begin the next day.
”Any feeling on the Sindareen?” Picard asked in a low voice. He kept his smile firmly fixed in place, though, and even nodded in the direction of Nici when she glanced at him from a corner of the room.
”On a surface level, Captain, their motives seem to be precisely what they say they are: they want peace.”
”Any agenda beyond that?” Riker said.
Deanna paused, giving the question full weight. ”I cannot say for sure. As I told you, Captain-and as Commander Riker knows-the Sindareen can be a challenge to read. Through continued exposure, however, as I gain a feeling for the individual's psyche, I might be able to tell you more.”
”You'll do your best, I'm certain, Counselor,” said Picard. ”At least we're off on the right foot.”
A hand rested on Deanna's shoulder and she turned to look into Dann's smiling face. ”Are you about finished here, Deanna?” he asked, and then looked to Picard and Riker. ”Sorry, gentlemen... I didn't mean to interrupt.”
”That's all right, Dann,” said Deanna. ”We were finished.” Then she looked to Picard for confirmation. ”Weren't we, Captain?”
”By all means.” But Picard's eyes narrowed slightly, and he watched as Dann led Deanna out of the room, an arm around her waist in a most familiar fas.h.i.+on. Deanna was laughing lightly at some comment he had just whispered to her.
Picard turned to Riker and noted that the muscles of his jaw were working under his checks. ”Problem, Number One?”
”No problem, Captain,” said Riker neutrally.
Picard took a step closer to his second-in-command and observed, ”She seems rather friendly with him. That's not going to present a difficulty for you, is it, Number One?”
Riker regarded Picard with an arched eyebrow. ”I already said there's no problem, Captain. I hope you don't think I'm lying to you.”
”Number One, never in a million years would I believe that you would lie to me.”
”Thank you, sir.”
Picard paused only a moment before he added, ”However... lying to yourself would be another matter entirely.”
Riker had been turning away, but now he looked back at Picard with some surprise. ”Deanna's happiness is my happiness,” Riker said firmly, and then deciding that his tone sounded just a bit too aggressive for a statement directed to his commanding officer, quickly added a respectful, ”Sir.”
Picard nodded slightly. ”A very commendable and adult att.i.tude, Number One. If you are satisfied with the situation, then I certainly am-especially seeing as it isn't any of my business.”
”As you say, sir.”
One of the Byfrexians came up at that moment and engaged Picard in a discussion of Prime Directive ethics that had been a bone of contention in a seminar the amba.s.sador had taught. Riker listened for a few moments before drifting over to Nici and striking up a polite and, he hoped, informative conversation with her.
But his gaze kept s.h.i.+fting over to the doors of the banquet room-the doors through which Counselor Troi had exited moments earlier with Dann. And Riker had taken note not only of the arm around her waist but also that Deanna had placed a hand over his as if she wanted to make sure he didn't remove that arm.
”I'm happy for you,” he said to no one in particular.
CHAPTER 10.
Riker lay on his back, staring up into the darkness of his quarters. His hands were interlaced behind his head, the pillow soft under him. He had been that way for over an hour as sleep refused to come.
Sorting out his feelings was rapidly becoming something of a royal pain. He still remembered that time a couple of years ago, in Deanna's quarters... Both he and Deanna had been in an extremely mellow mood, and he had also been allowing the more relaxing qualities of the Synthehol he'd consumed to have sway over his actions. A friendly good-night kiss had turned into something far more pa.s.sionate, and for a moment they had been kissing each other eagerly, hungrily, and it had been just like the old days.
And then Deanna had whispered, pleaded, telling him that they shouldn't, reminding him of the difficulties of involvement while both served on the same s.h.i.+p. Yet even as she spoke, she would have let him...
But he pulled back. Her words had penetrated the Syntheholic haze on his brain and washed it away, bringing with it instant sobriety and a reminder of the line that they had drawn for themselves.
And nothing had happened.
Not that he hadn't wanted it... they had both wanted it...
But what had they wanted? Momentary gratification? Or something more... a rekindling of something that they had thought they'd left behind them?
Perhaps they'd been kidding themselves. Here he was someone accustomed to command situations, and here she was someone who was always in touch with feelings. So it was only natural that they would decide they could control their feelings, dictate their relations.h.i.+p. Turn their emotions on and off like an old-style light switch.
How realistic was that, though? Lying there in the darkness, imagining Deanna at that moment, wrapped in the arms of Dann, laughing or saying things softly...
Did she say the same things to Dann that she had to Riker?
For a moment there he had actually been drifting off, his feelings about Deanna lulling his brain and convincing him that everything would seem more clear in the morning. And then something, some impulse, made him sit bolt upright in bed, moving so swiftly that he had a momentary sense of disorientation.
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