Suspicions, part 2 by Zlanna


	Entering the Sinomian Ministerial Hall from the rear door Riker
leaned against the wall and watched the proceedings from a vantage point
in the corner. He had a good view of Counselor Deanna Troi as she stood
at the end of the long, ornately carved, stone conference table
addressing the Sinomian leader, Miyon Wlekz.

	"First Minister Wlekz, the Federation sympathizes with the Sinomian
desire to establish a regular transport service between your planet and
the Federation headquarters on Earth. Our objections to the transport
run are not based on any desire to limit the Sinomian's access to the
heart of the Federation, but remain the same as we outlined two years
ago when this treaty was initially signed by both parties."

	"And what is that objection?" Wlekz demanded.

	"You were there, First Minister. You know as well as I that our
objections to the transport run are based on the impracticality of a
direct run, five times a week between the two destinations. There simply
is not enough traffic to warrant such a frequent schedule."

	"We are not important enough for Federation diplomats to visit, you
mean?" Wlekz was an intimidating man, standing nearly a foot taller than
Troi and even seated at the head of the conference table forty feet
away, he was still able to use his size to his advantage. Like the rest
of the Sinomians his long, curly, black hair hung loose around his
shoulders. A hairstyle that seemed to have been adopted by everyone on
the planet. His eyes conveyed his fury below thick, dark brows which
were drawn together, giving him a demonic appearance. His low growl
shattered the silence of the enormous hall. His words and his tone shot
out his accusation, "You!" He paused, his frustration fueling his
condemnation, "You Betazoid. You are the one who does not want this
supply run. Typical for your pacifist race. What do you know of fear?
The Federation coddles you. Betazed is well protected, though they are
further away from the heart of the Federation than we! What do you know
of war? The Federation would never allow the Borg to assimilate their
precious telepaths."

	"I know plenty of war, First Minister. I have served on the
Enterprise for sixteen years as Ship's Counselor and hold the rank of
Commander. I have faced the Borg along with the rest of our crew."

	Wlekz was beyond listening to Troi, only his voice held any interest
for him now. "Sinomia lies directly in the path of the Borg as it
travels to Earth. We must have protection. We must have a means of
escape should the Borg attack us. You are a telepath! You could convince
the Federation to listen to us. If..." Wlekz's voice dropped from a
booming demand to a hushed challenged that was more chilling in its tone
that his former ranting. "If you wanted to."

	Troi stood her ground. If Wlekz's bluster frightened her no one
could tell. "First Minister. Betazoids, even telepaths, which I am not,
are unable to use their abilities to influence minds."

	"The Federation must listen to us!" Wlekz pounded the table so hard
the delicate water glasses trembled, knocking the ice cubes against each
other.

	Riker stiffened at Wlekz's attack on Troi.  He voice shot out a
warning volley from the back of the hall. "Listen to you? We have
listened to you and now it is time you listened to us!"  In unison the
entire Ruling Congress turned as  Riker strode forward. Wlekz stepped
backward as the First Officer of the Enterprise approached. Slightly
taller than the First Minister, Riker stopped a few feet in front of
Wlekz, his stare daring the Sinomian leader to defy him. "You pleaded
with the Federation to redirect the Enterprise here and Starfleet
listened, diverting us here on our way to Deep Space Two even though we
have just lost over half our crew fighting the Borg. You refused to meet
with Captain Picard because of his captivity by the Borg..."

	"Locutus will never stand on Sinomian soil!" Wlekz shouted to the
assembly as much to Riker.

	Riker ignored the First Minister's comment, "and Starfleet listened,
sending the Counselor and me instead to help conclude your transport
treaty. But our crew is exhausted, half our ship still bears the scars
of the Borg's occupation of it and my patience is short. You have one
day to reach agreement with us or we leave and you will have nothing. No
transport agreement, no supply runs, no treaty, nothing! Now," Riker let
out a deep breath in a slow exhale, "These negotiations are in recess."
Riker stood, chin out, eyes narrowed, inviting Wlekz to object. "I
recommend you use the time to revise your requests."

	"You do not have the authority to call a recess." Wlekz protested,
but his words, Riker suspected, were simply bravado to save face in
front of the assembled Sinomians.

	"As the official negotiators of the Federation," Troi said,
following Riker's lead, "we do have that right and I believe that the
Commander's suggestion is an excellent one. A recess would allow all of
us to regain our equilibrium."

	"Spoken like a true Betazoid." Wlekz said, spitting the words in
disgust. He puffed up as if about to launch another tirade.

	The Agricultural Minister intervened, "Spoken like a true
negotiator, First Minister." The Agricultural Minister nodded to Riker
and Troi, "Agreed, we will reconvene tomorrow at 0800. I am sure we can
bring these negotiations to a quick end at that time."

	***

	To be continued....

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