Jeyn and Picard, and found herself beside a cheerful Venetan who offered her his bag of sweets. At his insistence she took a couple, putting one in her pocket for later. Rolling the other slowly around her mouth (it had an almost peppery flavor—surprising, but not unpleasant), she leaned back so that she had a good view of the opposing parties—or, rather, a good view of the Tzenkethi behind Rusht.
In fact, everyone who wasn’t a Venetan was goggling at the Tzenkethi, or pretending not to. Rusht said, “I should introduce a good friend of the convention, Alizome Vik Tov-A.”
An approving murmur rose up from around the room as the Venetans welcomed their guest. Crusher flipped mentally back through the briefing documentsshe had read en route and tried to decipher the mysterious code of the Tzenkethi naming system.
Alizome Vik Tov-A . . . Alizome was a personal name. Tov was a status marker, indicating her importance as part of the governing echelon, the ruling class. Vik, as Crusher understood it, was a functional designation, indicating her specific purpose within that echelon. It meant Alizome was a speaker, permitted to conduct negotiations on behalf of her Autarch and speak in his voice. Was she sanctioned to do that today, Crusher wondered, or was she here simply to observe and then report back to her masters? As for A, well, the genetic grading spoke for itself. Altogether, if intelligence on Tzenkethi naming conventions was accurate, Alizome Vik Tov-A was a very prestigious member of Tzenkethi society. This person might even have the ear of the elusive and mysterious Autarch himself.
Ambassador Jeyn, taking the lead for the allies in their negotiations, got the nod from Ilka and Detrek. Jeyn stood up and smiled across the table at Rusht. The Venetans, politely, went (mostly) quiet. Crusher relaxed. Jeyn was as much a veteran of this kind of occasion as Jean-Luc.
“On behalf of my own government,” Jeyn said, “and on behalf of my two colleagues, I’d like to thank you formally for your welcome today, Rusht—”
A raised palm from Rusht stopped Jeyn in mid-flow. “You are mistaken,” Rusht said.
Jeyn, who had simply been warming up, blinked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“You are mistaken. I have offered no welcome. It would be better for all of us if you were not inaccurate. This has caused difficulties between our governments in the past and brought us to the unfortunate situation in which we find ourselves now.”
There was a short, charged, and extremely embarrassed silence. Then the Venetans began to murmur to each other. There was no glee or schadenfreude in them, but Crusher rapidly got the impression that they agreed with what Rusht had said. Again, it was not that a point had been scored but that something necessary and accurate had been said. Across the room, Alizome glowed gently and turned an impassive golden eye upon Ambassador Jeyn.
Jeyn was completely at a loss as to what to say in response to such blunt hostility. Not so Detrek, however, who, eyes flashing, leaned forward and said, “This is outrageous! You invite us to your world simply to insult us—?”
Dygan, seated behind her, flinched. Crusher saw him throw an anxious look across the table at Picard.
Who swiftly intervened. “You are correct, Rusht,” he said, “that you have made no formal welcome. Yet in the hospitality that has been shown since our arrival—the rooms, the refreshments—and in your simple willingness to meet us after the disappointments of the past, I fear we must be forgiven if we misconstrued these signs as a welcome. Our gratitude for this my colleague has, I think, accurately conveyed on behalf of all of us.”
That voice, Crusher thought fondly. Who could possibly be immune to its charm? I know I’m not.
And Rusht, if not charmed, seemed at least prepared to be persuaded by the sentiment expressed.
“Skillful words,” she said with a slight smile. “We knew that already about
In fact, everyone who wasn’t a Venetan was goggling at the Tzenkethi, or pretending not to. Rusht said, “I should introduce a good friend of the convention, Alizome Vik Tov-A.”
An approving murmur rose up from around the room as the Venetans welcomed their guest. Crusher flipped mentally back through the briefing documentsshe had read en route and tried to decipher the mysterious code of the Tzenkethi naming system.
Alizome Vik Tov-A . . . Alizome was a personal name. Tov was a status marker, indicating her importance as part of the governing echelon, the ruling class. Vik, as Crusher understood it, was a functional designation, indicating her specific purpose within that echelon. It meant Alizome was a speaker, permitted to conduct negotiations on behalf of her Autarch and speak in his voice. Was she sanctioned to do that today, Crusher wondered, or was she here simply to observe and then report back to her masters? As for A, well, the genetic grading spoke for itself. Altogether, if intelligence on Tzenkethi naming conventions was accurate, Alizome Vik Tov-A was a very prestigious member of Tzenkethi society. This person might even have the ear of the elusive and mysterious Autarch himself.
Ambassador Jeyn, taking the lead for the allies in their negotiations, got the nod from Ilka and Detrek. Jeyn stood up and smiled across the table at Rusht. The Venetans, politely, went (mostly) quiet. Crusher relaxed. Jeyn was as much a veteran of this kind of occasion as Jean-Luc.
“On behalf of my own government,” Jeyn said, “and on behalf of my two colleagues, I’d like to thank you formally for your welcome today, Rusht—”
A raised palm from Rusht stopped Jeyn in mid-flow. “You are mistaken,” Rusht said.
Jeyn, who had simply been warming up, blinked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“You are mistaken. I have offered no welcome. It would be better for all of us if you were not inaccurate. This has caused difficulties between our governments in the past and brought us to the unfortunate situation in which we find ourselves now.”
There was a short, charged, and extremely embarrassed silence. Then the Venetans began to murmur to each other. There was no glee or schadenfreude in them, but Crusher rapidly got the impression that they agreed with what Rusht had said. Again, it was not that a point had been scored but that something necessary and accurate had been said. Across the room, Alizome glowed gently and turned an impassive golden eye upon Ambassador Jeyn.
Jeyn was completely at a loss as to what to say in response to such blunt hostility. Not so Detrek, however, who, eyes flashing, leaned forward and said, “This is outrageous! You invite us to your world simply to insult us—?”
Dygan, seated behind her, flinched. Crusher saw him throw an anxious look across the table at Picard.
Who swiftly intervened. “You are correct, Rusht,” he said, “that you have made no formal welcome. Yet in the hospitality that has been shown since our arrival—the rooms, the refreshments—and in your simple willingness to meet us after the disappointments of the past, I fear we must be forgiven if we misconstrued these signs as a welcome. Our gratitude for this my colleague has, I think, accurately conveyed on behalf of all of us.”
That voice, Crusher thought fondly. Who could possibly be immune to its charm? I know I’m not.
And Rusht, if not charmed, seemed at least prepared to be persuaded by the sentiment expressed.
“Skillful words,” she said with a slight smile. “We knew that already about
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