The Officers' Wardroom on the station had been set up as a banquet hall; the long table covered with a white cloth. Rarely-used antique china, crystal, and silverware imported from Earth for use on just these occasions had been laid out by enlisted mess attendants. Wallace, as Captain, sat at the head of the table. To his right sat Garek Loran; the space immediately to Wallace's left was reserved for Kitara. Carter sat next to Garek while Tarik and Kassia were seated next to Kitara's space. Razek, as the lowest-ranking member of the party, sat near the end of the table next to Kassia.
Kitty entered with a casual confidence. "I'm sorry I was detained. I received a last minute communication from Rear Admiral Stelk. It required my immediate attention. I hope I haven't held anything up," she replied.
Wallace stifled a chuckle to himself. "Ah, yes, duty calls, doesn't it? Sit down, relax. The food will be here shortly." With that, two white-jacketed mess attendants brought in a soup tureen on a cart. Quickly and efficiently they ladled soup into each diner's soup plate. "Tonight's soup is Federation soup--containing vegetables from every major world in the Federation," the senior mess attendant announced.
"Sounds wonderful, Captain." She smiled, allowing herself to feel at ease as she took her seat at the table. She saw the officers she had met upon her arrival and knew this was a night for making an impression. But she was just going to play it out and be herself (within reason, she thought). They would either like her and feel that she was competent, or they wouldn't. Either way, she was here to stay for awhile. She reached for her glass of water and took a sip.
Garek was the first to try the soup. Immediately after taking a spoonful, his face flushed and beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead, accumulating at the bridge of his nose. "Whoa! I don't remember it being this hot last time!"
Carter, her palate having been toughened by repeated exposure to El Taco's fare, tried her soup. Even she had trouble with it. "You're right--this is way too hot!" she said as Razek coughed and sputtered at the end of the table. Of the group, only Tarik seemed to be tolerating the extremely spicy soup, but even for him it was a challenge.
Wallace looked closely at his soup and waved over the mess attendant. "Yeoman, there should be green beans from Earth in this soup. Instead I'm seeing these green peppers. What are they?"
The attendant examined one of the peppers. "These are Arcturan chili peppers! They're 60 times more powerful than Earth habaneros! I'll notify the chef at once!" he said, taking up the soup and wheeling it back to the kitchen.
The memory of her conversation with Kassia entered Kitty's mind. Could just be a coincidence . . . she thought, though part of her knew better. She pushed the bowl of soup away without touching it, awaiting an attendant to carry it away. As she looked toward Kassia, she noticed the Counselor hadn't touched her soup either. She had known something, Kitty decided. But how much did she know? That was going to be the question.
"Well, this is an interesting start to dinner," she laughed gently, her green-brown eyes sparkling a bit.
Tarik turned to Kassia. "You haven't eaten your soup! Why didn't you warn me if you knew ahead of time?" he laughed.
I thought that you might perhaps like the spicy flavor," she smiled sweetly, with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"You'll pay for that later," he said with an equal hint of mischief in his eyes. "If I wanted to kill myself I'd go back out against the Jem'Hadar!"
"How extensive is the Jem'Hadar presence in this sector?" Kitara asked Wallace. "I've seen the reports you've sent to Command, but I'd like to get a feel for what's really here."
Wallace looked pensive. "We're not entirely sure ourselves. We thought at first that we were dealing with a small band of Jem'Hadar but discovered a Son'a-operated breeding crèche during our conflict with the Son'a. How many they managed to produce, and whether or not other races have decided to breed Jem'Hadar is not known. The current Jem'Hadar band is allied with a fairly powerful race known as the Mullara. Ensign Razek has information on the Mullara obtained from one of their vessels. If you would, Ensign," Wallace said, nodding to Razek. Razek made his report.
"The Mullara also seem to have a masking technology that blocks our sensors from all but very close ranges," Tarik said. "I approached a facility of theirs with an active tricorder and had to get within 100 meters before I could even begin to get readings."
"Their technology level is very close to that of the Federation, and probably exceeds Federation standards in some areas," Garek added.
Kitty raised her eyebrows as her mind worked. She nodded to herself. "This is going to be quite a challenge if the opportunity for a negotiation arises . . . But it could be worked out quite well for all parties . . ." She was drafting ideas in her head for future use as her gaze seemed transfixed on her water. But it was obvious to everyone her mind was problem-solving.
Another mess attendant entered with plates of salad, which he set out for each diner. Fortunately, the salad was a simple Caesar salad, very difficult to get wrong. Anxious to rid the searing influence of the peppers from their mouths, everyone dug into the salad with gusto. Razek, in his enthusiasm, picked up the wrong fork.
"Ensign, I can see you've been under a lot of pressure lately," Wallace said, trying to draw Razek's attention to his gaffe without unduly humiliating the junior officer.
"Oh, no more than usual," Razek said, then noticed Wallace's glance. "Ooops--sorry!" he said, quickly switching forks.
"Earth dining customs have always intrigued me," Tarik said, taking a little heat off of Razek as he regained his composure. "The first time I had Chinese food I was given egg foo yung and chopsticks. Not knowing what to do, I took one of the chopsticks and speared the egg foo yung patty and ate it like a shish kebob. Fortunately no one said anything to me until later, but I don't think I've ever humiliated myself more!"
The group laughed. "Just another example of Romulan efficiency," Carter quipped. "You solved the problem in the most practical way possible. I've never been able to figure out how to eat one of those things with chopsticks!"
"Chop sticks aren't that difficult if you practice," Kitty replied. Eating Asian Cuisine with chop sticks was a skill she was proud of, and it was something she enjoyed. She took several sips of wine, but as an attendant came to pour another glass, she put her hand over it. She knew better than to have more than one glass at a function like this.
Of course, she did remember Kassia's words again. Razek had picked up the wrong fork and Tarik had made the joke, just as she had predicted. She stole a quick look at Kassia and was met with green eyes observing her. Kassia gave her a gentle smile, as she took a bit of salad.
The main course arrived: sehlat brisket under glass. An underchef came out to slice the meat, which was served with a medley of vegetables (but no peppers). "Was the situation with the soup resolved?" Wallace asked.
"The chef insists that his version of the recipe was more innovative than that prescribed in the cookbook," the underchef replied nervously. The chef was, by definition, an officer while the underchef and the mess attendants were enlisted. Naturally they'd be loath to criticize their direct superior.
"I will remind the chef to avoid experimentation during critical events," Wallace said, thinking to himself that this underchef might find himself promoted before the night was out. Always thought Pierre was a bit arrogant anyway.
"So," Wallace continued, turning the topic back to business, "what are your proposals for resolving the situation in the Briar Patch?"
"Four years ago there was a similar situation in the Orion Sector. The Orion Syndicate, the Klingons, the Ferengi, and several unaffiliated races were in open conflict over a nebula containing several dilithium-rich planets. There was some fighting involved--I believe you were in that conflict, Colonel Tarik--but eventually we were able to agree upon a partition and development plan that ensured everyone had an equal share of the pie. The colonists here are in much the same situation as the unaffiliated worlds of the Orion Sector. They have interest in developing the sector but not the means to preserve their claims. Granted, in the Orion Sector the Federation had pre-existing agreements with nearly all of the parties involved, but I don't think that will be a stumbling block here. In fact, I think we might find things easier since we're establishing precedent rather than having to incorporate provisions of previous treaties," Kitara replied.
She stopped suddenly, remembering what Kassia had said. It was entirely possible she could have convinced the chef to substitute the peppers for beans. It was certainly possible that she could have told Razek to use the wrong fork and have Tarik make light of the matter. But could Kassia have put words in her mouth? Over a treaty whose terms weren't generally known?
This was just too much, she thought. Was it possible that Kassia could have pulled this off . . . Maybe . . . But it would have taken a lot of work to maneuver her into the right position to talk about the Orion Sector settlement. Or maybe she was primed to talk about it. Maybe, because Kassia had mentioned it, it had been looming at the edge of her subconscious ready to leap out at a convenient moment . . .
"So you believe this situation can be resolved?" Captain Wallace asked, without really believing it was possible.
"I believe most situations can be resolved when all parties are ready to negotiate," she replied.
"And there, as they say, lies the rub," Garek said. "So far none of these people have been willing to negotiate in good faith. Whenever we've tried to talk, they've come in and butchered colonists. I'm not sure we can talk to the Jem'Hadar!"
"Then we talk to their allies--the Mullara and the other races here. If we can bring them around, the Jem'Hadar will find themselves isolated and eventually they'll come to us. From what I've seen you've done a good job at wearing down the other powers in this sector. They can't last forever, and neither can you. I predict within the week that someone will send a negotiator. When that happens, we get to work," Kitara replied.
"And what do we do in the meantime?" Carter asked. "We're stretched thin as it is out here--we can't protect most of the colonies we know about in the Briar Patch, let alone some of the wildcat operations."
"Do what you can, no more," Kitara advised. "Place a priority on capturing senior officers when the situation presents itself. If we can somehow capture a field-grade officer we'll have an opening for negotiation."
Tarik produced a PADD and made notes on it. "That would require some doing, Commander," he said. "None of the officers we've captured to date have ranked higher than the equivalent of Lieutenant Commander. If there's a general or admiral out there coordinating things he's either well-protected or very far behind the lines."
"We did capture a Mullara vessel recently," Razek said. "We still need to work on some of the encrypted data but that might give us some clues as to where their command function is located. Unfortunately, our best person for this sort of work isn't available."
Wallace rolled his eyes. Damn that Deveraux! We could use him right now but I'm not sure we can trust him!
"Captain," Kassia started a bit quietly, unsure if she was broaching something she should bring up to him alone. She didn't want to make a social blunder, but she felt she needed to say something. "Why not have Deveraux look at the encryption codes . . . He can be trusted . . . I know you can't take my word for it, but perhaps he can work under my supervision. I can take responsibility for him . . . I feel that this could be very important to our current situation . . ." She also wanted a way to help build up Wallace's faith in Deveraux again and make him sense that Deveraux had been set up. Concern was evident in her green eyes, along with a certain amount of anxiety. She still wasn't quite use to her rank or knew all the protocol just yet. She still had a number of things to learn.
Wallace looked doubtful.
"Captain, the weapons recovered from Morristown were not the sort of items someone in Deveraux's position would have had access to. The only anti-tank weapons aboard this station are under my direct custody; only myself or Lieutenant Anderson would have been able to retrieve one from the armory. All of ours have been accounted for. And the logs show no record of Deveraux contacting anyone off the station in the past 30 days. Someone else had to have provided the colonists with the weaponry," Tarik added. The presence of such powerful weapons potentially in the hands of untrained colonists had troubled him since he'd heard about the situation.
"I'd like to examine the weapons you brought back if at all possible," Garek said.
Tarik nodded. "I'll have them brought to Engineering first thing in the morning."
"Not only that, but it just doesn't make sense!" Carter added. "Paul Deveraux may be a lush and probably a pervert, but even he's not that stupid. Knowing him, he would have stayed behind to help the colony if he knew of a pending attack!"
Wallace thought for a moment. "Let me know what your analysis turns up, Garek. I've had trouble believing Deveraux could have pulled off such a transaction myself. But recordings have been faked before--James T. Kirk himself almost was court-martialed on the evidence provided by a faked recording, and that was over a hundred years ago. Tomorrow morning I'm paroling Mr. Deveraux. He is to be remanded to your custody, Tarik. Sorry, Kassia, but I want Deveraux in the custody of someone with the experience to know what he can and can't do and sufficient rank to deal with him as necessary," he said, nodding to Tarik. Tarik understood the gesture: if necessary, he would be responsible for putting Deveraux back in the brig...and Deveraux was not an individual to be taken lightly.
"I understand, Captain," she replied with a smile. Either way, Paul was out of the Brig, and that made her happy. It would give him a chance to prove himself, and he had to, she thought . . . She wasn't going to let him take the rap for something he didn't do. If she had to, she would access the deepest recesses of her mind where her PSI ability emanated from and meditate for the answer. Though there was a danger in that for her as well . . . There was the chance she would get stuck there and not find her way back . . . She had never done it, but it was something Clarize had warned her about.
"I think, once Mr. Deveraux learns that a possible solution to this conflict is at stake, he might be willing to overcome his reluctance to help," Tarik said.
The remains of the main course were carted away, and a platter of chocolate eclairs laid out on the table, along with carafes of wine and coffee. "Oh--I love these!" Carter said, grabbing one of the pastries. Garek poured her a glass of wine. As she bit into the eclair Carter noticed too late that the eclair was overfilled with creme filling. The filling squirted out the end of the eclair and across the table, landing just short of Kitara. "Whoops!" she said, reaching over to clean up the mess. As Carter reached over her wine glass toppled over.
The deep red wine spread out into a broad, heart-shaped stain headed in the general direction of Garek. Carter looked down at the stain, then up at Garek, who seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Kassia," she asked, "do your talents and training extend to reading signs?"
Kassia chuckled. "I can see the future, and its not usually dependant upon omens . . . Would you care for me to see what the future holds?" She asked, her greens eyes glinting again with that mischievousness.
"Uh, no," Carter answered. "That's okay. I'm not sure I want to know after all."
Kassia laughed again.
Kitara took a sharp breath in, There is no way that could have been staged, she decided. Kassia was the real deal . . . It astounded her, and almost frightened her too . . . What was it that Kassia saw of her future? Would she want to know?
~You really are psychic, aren't you?~ Kitty said, telepathically.
~Very much so~ Kassia replied. ~I take it you believe me now . . .~
~It's a little hard not to after tonight~ Kitty said.
Kassia smiled inwardly.
~What exactly did you see of my future?~ Kitty asked.
~Why don't we talk about that later . . . Just enjoy tonight. There is plenty of time for the future. I promise.~
Kitty nodded and smiled, consciously joining those at the table once more.