Diplomacy as a tool for crowd control

B'Elanna

"Now, in regards to the questions you asked," I begin when the Redshirts finally settle down enough (after a bit raising of our voices to GET them to calm down) to listen. "First off, as stated a bit earlier back IF only in passing, we have had experience with attacks with menaces like the Planet Killer so knew how IT was going to attack the Constellation for several reasons."

I pause for a few seconds before continuing, conjuring up archival footage on a nearby computer terminal of a VERY familiar spaceship being drawn down into the mouth of the Killer, only to explode violently upon disappearing from sight. It is the USS Constellation's impulse engines going critical and exploding (thanks to Captain James T. Kirk) that finally did the damn Killer inBeing that we have Net access here at Dr. Vincent's mage tower it is nothing for me to access Memory Alpha and thus Kirk's five year missions logs aboard the Enterprise (NCC-1701).

. . .

What a wondrous time that century had been!

"And thus ended the Space Turd," Elrondir, my husband and love mutters, shaking his head slightly.

Sigh, he never had been a particular fan of Kirk (more of a fan of the later day Star Trek shows . . . . and of my TV character in particular) . . .

Well, that is by the by....

. . .

However...

Because of certain . . . sensibilities of the audience, I hesitated in showing them this because I knew I'd get the whispered exclamations and cuss words from the Redshirts. Not an easy thing seeing the ship you'd served on (and by extension the her crew since what is a ship without crew but a hulk . . . unless it is AI controlled) die.

"In the past century of my timeline this is how the battle between the Constellation and the Planet Killer ended," I say softly, leaving out pedantic details like how even BEFORE being reborn an elf the Federation and timeline I speak of that even back when I was B'Elanna Torres . . . I was actually a clone of sorts of that real Klingon/Human hybrid woman.

But that aside I just don't want to confuse the issue! Creator alone knows how confusing it must be to these Redshirts right now, the diversity of eras of dress and species.

The later is part and parcel of Star Fleet (even IF it is rather heavily leaning towards humans). The former?

Heh, let us just say that we've already implied we are citizens of the Federation of Planets (and not Star Fleet). Less confusing.

That said . . .

"We paid blood for the knowledge," I continue, softly. "Admittedly, unknowingly while on a mission of mercy we found ourselves unexpectedly in your reality, seeing a repeat performance from our history . . . I couldn't have that happen and live with myself."

Yeah, yeah. You say that I could have been totally wrong about the situation. Misread it and totally screw it up for every one, right? Make a bad situation worse?

You've forgotten something. I'm not human. Not a Klingon. Not even that human/klingon bitch I'd been created to mimic, but an elfin woman. AND elfin intuition, while not exactly prescience, is VERY damn effective in sorting out dangerous situations when it speaks.

Only foolish elves don't listen to their gut feelings.

Yes, it is good to be an elf!!

Anyway, this demonstration just went a long way in telling the Redshirts who we are (not an enemy), why our teleportator worked when theirs failed (more advanced EVEN if it is also partly magic based, but why confuse them even more?), and why we knew what we knew (history).

Well, we either allayed their fears and concerns OR we confused them enough so that they were docile enough in their befuddlement to allow themselves to be taken to guest quarters until Commodore Decker contacts us through the subspace communication grid we gave info on. That or (if something terrible has happened and the Constellation was destroyed) we shall get in contact with "our" Star Fleet to take care of . . . . the only survivors of that tragedy.

"We welcome you to 'our' version of the 24th century," I finish up, as they mutely holster their weapons and then allow themselves to be lead away by one of Inquirer's brothers to suitable guest quarters.

A little overdone that last part, the greeting, but what the hey? I'm hoping for the best here with the Constellation and all that, so of course I'm trying to be positive and all that jazz.

And by what I've just done I have opened up yet another diplomatic headache for Star Fleet to take care of after this is all over. The Redshirts here, disoriented as they are, realize that this is something of a First Contact situation so they BETTER be a bit more diplomatic and friendly than what they'd been up to THIS frickin' point!!

That is why they are being so compliant now, anyway. That or we confused the Hell out of them....

"Man, I thought only stuff like this happened to Kirk and the Enterprise," I hear one of the Redshirts mutter as they head on out of the room.

You don't know the half of how strange this place you'd just landed, I chuckle to myself.

Now that THAT is taken care of...

1. "So . . . what is the story with you four?" I ask softly to the still silent quartet of young women.

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