The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [62]
Unable to refute Ro’s argument, Lwaxana blustered instead. “I’m not sure I approve of your tone, Ensign.” She treated the younger woman to her most withering look, but Ro neither budged nor flinched. She held her ground until Lwaxana finally threw up her arms in defeat. “Oh, go ahead and wear your absurd headgear if it makes you feel more comfortable,” she snapped at Barclay. “Needless to say, I fully intend to speak my mind to Jean-Luc about both of you once the present crisis is resolved.”
“Then perhaps we should get down to business,” Ro suggested.
Barclay agreed one hundred percent. He relaxed a little as he gratefully fitted the cap back onto his head. The built-in psychic baffler generated a mild buzz at the back of his mind, like a tune you can’t get out of your head, but the odd sensation wasn’t enough to keep him from reviewing the details of their mission:
The Tadigeans were a reclusive species who lived in a remote corner of the Alpha Quadrant, far from the beaten path. Tadigea had never formally joined the Federation, but, in recent years, had cautiously begun to do business with other planets in the quadrant. Although seldom seen, the Tadigeans were reputed to be mildly telepathic, which gave Betazed a definite edge when it came to forming a mutually advantageous relationship with the other planet. One of the most gifted telepaths Betazed had ever produced, Lwaxana no doubt hoped to find common ground with the Tadigean trade representatives.
Just what I need, Barclay moaned silently. More telepaths.
The ambassador’s diplomatic efforts had been complicated by the fact that the xenophobic Tadigeans hated leaving their own planet almost as much as they hated allowing aliens onto their native soil. The newly installed holodeck on the Cataria was intended to simulate the Tadigeans’ natural environment, to make them as comfortable as possible during the negotiations. The yacht itself was positioned at a neutral spot in deep space, equidistant from both Betazed and Tadigea. The location also had the advantage of being safely remote, so that the delicate negotiations could be conducted in relative secrecy.
“Unfortunately,” Lwaxana lamented, “this wretched contraption still isn’t working properly.” She gestured impatiently at the king-sized holodeck surrounding them. Glowing yellow gridlines divided the stark black walls of the inactive holochamber, which now took up the better part of the Cataria. “It’s been behaving erratically…and the Tadigean delegates are arriving in a matter of days.”
A Betazoid aide, who had been lurking in Lwaxana’s shadow all this time, stepped forward. “I’m sure our own technicians would have figured out the problem in plenty of time,” he insisted. He glared resentfully at Barclay and Ro. “There was no need to call in Starfleet.”
“That’s what you told me a week ago,” Lwaxana chided the man. “You’ll forgive me if I didn’t want to risk the success of these talks on your flimsy promises.” She gestured unenthusiastically at the aide, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Permit me to introduce Flev Ubaan, my temporary attache.” She put extra stress on the word temporary. “He’s been responsible for managing, if that’s quite the right term, the particulars of this venture.”
“If you’d just permitted me a larger staff,” Ubaan protested. He was a portly man, at least a head shorter than Barclay, wearing a conservative gray suit. An elaborately waxed mustache compensated for his receding hairline. He held out a blinking datapadd. “It was all in my original prospectus.” You didn’t have to be a telepath to realize that he saw Lwaxana’s appeal to Starfleet as a personal rebuke. Barclay hoped that the attache’s bruised ego wouldn’t complicate matters. “I needed a full holodeck installation and support team.”
“We’ve already been over this,” Lwaxana said impatiently. “These negotiations are politically sensitive, especially on Tadigea. The fewer people who know about them, the better.” A heavy sigh hinted at the dreadful hardships