Tooth and Claw - Doranna Durgin [82]
Unfortunately for the Tsorans, Atann had taken their daleura-driven behavior too far—far enough so that, finally caught out, he was all but obliged to offer up the charts. He looked at Atann again, a more casual glance; the ReynKa had assumed his normal stiff posture, just short of a maximum effect. Wise move on his part. If he puffed himself up past that point, Picard would take him down in front of everyone. Pride goeth and all that.
“I take it you found what you were looking for,” Troi said, looking at him with enough humor behind her eyes that Picard knew she’d been able to assess the situation.
“Emphatically so.” Picard gestured at the conference table. “Atann and I are about to commence discussion about the charts. I’d like you to sit in. Atann has declined an invitation to have his own second; he understands that your function here is to facilitate understanding.”
“Fine,” said Troi, picking up just the right no-non
sense cue. She took a seat between the two of them. “Let’s get started.”
“Agreed. There’s already been enough delay to jeopardize our purpose.” Despite their attempts to create their own timely charts… Picard sat, and noted that Atann had no trouble picking out the chair that had only moments ago been replaced with a modified Tsoran design. Atann’s feet might not reach the floor, but his head was no longer significantly lower than anyone else’s. “ReynKa, there is no need to discuss why we need your charts. It is an established fact that in order to navigate that section of space, detailed charts are necessary, and you are the only one to possess them.”
“We don’t want anyone else to have that ability,” Atann said shortly. “The graviton eddies keep our system secure from encroachment.”
“And we do not want permanent use of that space. Our proposal is that we provide the charts to a limited number of guide ships, which will be responsible for guiding the convoys through the graviton eddies. When the evacuation is over, we will purge the information from our ships’ computers.”
Atann’s gaze shifted between them; he pursed his pouchy lower lip. “How can we be certain all your people will do this?”
Because none of us will want anything to do with your system after this. But Picard only gave him an even stare. “We do as we say we will do, without convenient manipulation of our obligations. Do you need a demonstration?”
Atann stiffened in his seat, his lips tight over his teeth.
“Captain,” Troi said carefully, “that question might be interpreted as a threat. Is that how you meant it?”
“Yes,” said Picard.
There was a brief silence.
“I see,” Troi said. She glanced at Atann. “As long as we’re clear on that.”
Atann sat stiff and silent, staring at the food replicator; there was a slight but noticeable quiver in his ears.
“However,” Picard added, “I find it more convenient to simply suggest that we upload the information with a dated self-delete code attached, as approved by Tsoran experts.”
“You are so certain when you will be completed with your… evacuation?” Atann asked, his under-purr sounding muted and cautious … and hopeful.
“We can easily establish the maximum time it will take for the Ntignano sun to go nova.” Not as long as they’d hoped. Not near as long as they’d hoped. “Once that happens, I assure you, we will have no pressing need to traverse the area of space in question.”
Atann seemed to have relaxed considerably. “What about my son?”
“That’s a separate matter,” Troi advised him, echoing Picard’s words to Atann in the holodeck with a satisfying synchronicity. “Let’s conclude this discussion first.”
Atann didn’t like it. All the signs were there. But after a moment, he offered an awkward human nod. “I find your terms … acceptable,” he said. “As long as my own people are involved in the process to establish the automatic delete.”
“Agreed,” Picard said. “Please contact whomever is necessary. We’ll begin that process immediately.”
“You don’t trust—”
“Don’t even say it, ReynKa. Just contact your people. You’re welcome to use our communications