Ghost of a Chance - Mark Garland [37]
And I cannot decide whether these Federation people are a blessing or a curse. It would have been so much simpler if they had been relatively unarmed. Then we could have simply wiped them out."
"Simplify," Triness suggested, mostly in jest, "until you think of something."
Another joke, but Gantel suddenly saw a way to take this to heart.
What he most wanted was a way to get these strange visitors out of the way, or better yet, entirely under control.
But there were many ways to control others.
"I may have an answer," Gantel said, as the thought became fully formed in his mind, bringing with it a sense of relief. He always seemed to think of something. Always. He was simply reluctant to believe that circumstances would never change. "We will tell these Federation people the truth--or part of it, in any case. If we give them everything they want, more than likely we will not get what we want.
But if we give them just enough, they might believe... just enough."
"They don't seem like the cooperative type to me," Triness said, understating the issue.
"Exactly. They're going to discover the first director's fleet soon enough, and that will complicate matters enormously. Unless..." He turned the thought over in his mind and noticed the most remarkable feature in the process. "Unless," he continued, "we tell them ahead of time, make it part of the deal, and involve them, to an extent. After all, once the fleet arrives, our options will multiply by many factors."
"That revelation must be handled correctly."
"Of course."
"And what will we have Jonal say we are doing about the components they have requested?"
"There are many such components among the holds of the first director's fleet, are there not?"
"Yes, but--" "Well, then," Gantel said, smiling, "we will simply tell them the truth!"
"The truth?"
Gantel's smile broadened. "As any physician can tell you, even poison, in small doses, can sometimes be beneficial."
"I see." Triness tipped her head, a warm look of admiration on her face. "You know, I have always been attracted to the great contemporary artists." She glanced at the others on the bridge, all of whom quickly found ways to mind their own business. Then she rose, leaned close to Gantel, and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'll get Jonal and the others on the comm," she said as she straightened up again. "But we will need to communicate our message very carefully."
Gantel nodded, satisfied. "That will be fine."
***
"I understand you have some additional news from the Televek," Chakotay said. He glanced at the others in the briefing room: Paris, Neelix, and Kes were seated to his left at the table, the Drosary to his right, while two security officers remained stationed at the door. He felt a pang of apprehension, but he tried his best to suppress it, at least until he had heard the advocates out.
"Yes, Commander, I must inform you that we have met with a small problem," Jonal said bleakly.
"More a minor delay, really," Tassay explained.
For a brief instant Chakotay let doubt fill his thoughts and, with it, a flicker of rage. Negotiations had barely gotten under way, yet already they were turning into a delicate tangle, and each effort to smooth the way seemed to create new ripples. What now? he wondered wearily. There were nearly two hundred people aboard Voyager who were waiting for results and whose future depended on what their commander did or didn't do, not to mention the fate of the captain and an unknown number of Drenarians on the planet below.
He took a deep breath. "And what is the nature of this, delay?"
Jonal folded both hands on the table in front of him, presenting himself as an individual who was suddenly completely at ease.
"To elaborate on what Gantel started to tell you earlier, the cruiser now in orbit is not a merchant vessel. In truth, they are carrying only enough spare parts and supplies to provide for their own minimum backup needs. Prudence requires they not