Title: View from the Outside
Author: Richard Chu
Series: VOY
Rating: PG
Codes: K/7

Summary: Through developing a friendship with an alien
ambassador, and attempting to help him out of his personal and
social situation, Seven learns the value of her relationship with
Ensign Kim.

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and all the Star Trek properties
are copyright to Paramount.  The author is using the context for
non-profit creative purposes.  Copyright infringement is not
intended.  The author reserves the right to maintain ownership of
the story and elements not copyrighted to Paramount.  

THIS IS A DRAFT; DO NOT ARCHIVE.  PERMISSION NOT GRANTED TO
ANYONE YET.

Author's Notes:   This is yet another one of those prequels to an
existing story, and this one to "Reason for Living."  It is
somewhat of a departure because it relies heavily on a totally
new character.

Having said _all_ this, I accept all constructive criticisms,
grammatical to stylistic.  I will accept the good, the bad, and
the ugly--however, doesn't mean I will accept open flames.  One
of the major things I want to find out is the stylistic things
that might have bothered any reader.  And if certain scenes
'didn't work', being too long, too short, whatever you thought
was the problem.  Those who have received feedback from me on
their stories know how picky I can be.  Be as 'ruthless' to me!
I can't learn if I don't know what I'm doing wrong!  To
lurkers--Lurk no more!  I'd love to hear from you.  In any case,
whoever you are, if you liked or disliked the story, please give
at least one (big/detailed) reason.   I hope I did all the
posting details right.  If not, tell me.  

Please email feedback to: rcchu@interchange.ubc.ca.

***************

[This is a poem I wrote that compliments the story's theme, which
will be incorporated in a latter part of the story]

"View from the Outside"

The stars that glitter in the pale black night,
Are points of call in our futures bright.

Human and alien, together in unity,
Forge profound links to establish Community.

Our hearts together, our minds combined,
To explore the galaxy for the superb and sublime.

As We boldly traverse the depths of space,
We meet new peoples of different species and race.

The point of our journey is to never let go,
For tomorrow me may come again to say hello.
				----Zephram Cochrane.

***************

Please email feedback to: rcchu@interchange.ubc.ca.

***************

"Is that wise?" Chakotay asked, bewildered by Janeway's command.

"I don't foresee a problem," Janeway comfortably replied before
sipping her morning coffee from behind her Ready Room desk.  "The
Doctor has made a lot of headway in teaching Seven the basics of
ambassadorial protocol." She motioned Chakotay over to her desk
from which leaned over to whisper, "Besides, she's been
practising her smile."

Chakotay chuckled, showing his dimples.  "Trying to impress the
Elogian Ambassador?"

"It couldn't hurt," she mused.  "In fact, they revere all women."

"I'd bet they'd teach the Kazon a few lessons."

She rolled her eyes. "You couldn't teach a Kazon to say 'hello'
without thrusting a phaser down your throat, let alone give women
their due credit."

"No wonder the Borg didn't assimilate them."

"Yet another one of their flaws," she said, raising her hand in
front of her in emphasis.  "In any case, Neelix will be with her,
so he'll take care of everything."

Before Chakotay managed to continue the conversation, Janeway's
comm badge chirped. "Yes?"

"Captain, Ambassador Ologin is hailing," Ensign Kim reported.

"Patch it through in here."

Her computer screen cleared itself of ship reports to momentarily
reveal the Federation insignia, before the image appeared of a
butterscotch skinned, smooth faced alien, flattened nose and
ears, and deep emerald eyes with dark giraffe-like spots on his
head.  "It is an honour to speak to you again, Captain," he
stated regally.

"The honour is all mine, Ambassador."

"Your modesty is another quality I hold with great esteem."

"It's nothing, I assure you," Janeway said, smiling, yet hiding 
in her amusement.

The Ambassador smiled back, appearing genuinely content to have
produced the external response.  With that he got down to
business.  "As requested, we have a shipment of high grade
dilithium crystals ready for transport, as well as the largest
assortment of edible vegetation for your hydroponics bay."

"Thank you so much."  She was impressed with their generosity.
"I will send Neelix down in a shuttle to transport the very
generous amount of supplies."

"I hope you will be accompanying him."

"I'm afraid I can't," she said with genuine disappointment.
"But, I will be sending a fellow crewmember with Neelix.  Her
name is Seven of Nine."

"Unique name."

"Unique individual."

"Well, I look forward to meeting both of them."  He looked
reverently at her and said, "I hope we will be able to speak
again."

"It would be my pleasure," she said, bowing her head slightly
before the Ambassador ended the communication.

Chakotay still standing, listening to the whole conversation,
said, "I think he likes you."

She glared at him teasingly.  "You may want to take lessons from
him."

*****************

Malboran Ologin leaned back in his soft, tan-leathered chair,
impressed and enchanted with Kathryn Janeway.  The fact that she
was Captain of a starship travelling across the galaxy proved to
him her strong will, determination, and strength of character.
She would have to be tough to fight off anyone who would dare
threaten her ship and crew. Yet, listening to her speak over the
comm channel, he felt her inner warmth, generosity of spirit, and
kindness of heart.  He was mesmerized by the fact that she was
willing to exhibit to him those gracious, intrinsic values of her
personality.  It had been so long since any woman, Elogian or
alien, had been so considerate.

But alas, he was not going to have the opportunity to meet with
her, face to face.  While they had shared conversations over the
past couple days over the communications channel, he knew those
conversations would be different had they shared each other's
personal presence.  Body language would speak volumes.  He had a
feeling, though, that she knew of his feelings.  While he was out
of practice, he still could sense a friendly distance from her.
Had they actually met, he was sure he'd know for certain.

He broke his daydream for companionship with a heavy sigh, and
got up to head for the Elogian interstellar trade spaceport.  He
briefly glanced at his appearance on a large mirror, and
straightened his sleek, forest green suit.  Looking at the top of
his head, he frowned, seeing one of his head spots out of place.
Staring at the mal-aligned piece of thin, silk-like fabric in the
mirror, which somehow overlapped with another, he moved it to
produce a quarter-centimetre space with the other pieces, forming
a giraffe-skin pattern.  After looking at his head from a variety
of angles and being satisfied with his appearance, he walked out
of his green-shaded office, down a whitewashed hallway, to a
local transporter.  "Kolotin Spaceport; Gate 312," he requested,
and he beamed away.

The Spaceport was the largest structure in Kolotin, the Elogian
Capital City.  Two kilometres in diameter and three kilometres in
height, the giant cone-shaped, girder and concrete structure was
the primary interstellar commercial destination for over three
dozen different species.  From a distance, it looked like the
core of an insect hive piercing the purple sky, with shuttles of
different designs and sizes flying in and out, up and around to
the hundreds of shuttle pads and docking bays in the structure.
Giant elevators carrying shuttles moved up and down, inside and
out of the structure, in an intricate internal transportation
system.  Neelix and Seven were on the peak of the structure, a
dozen other shuttle pads surrounding theirs.  

Malboran, conscious while in mid-transport, and seeing a

formidable Federation shuttlecraft sitting on the landing pad,
could feel a brisk wind nab at him.  He hated Gate 312 or any of
the 300s, as they were the highest pads, notorious for their high
winds.  As his body fully rematerialized, he looked down and felt
his body as if making sure no parts were missing.  It still
bewildered him how his body could be pieced together so perfectly
with the high winds pelting the open-air transporter pad.  He
thought one of these days a part of him would fly off and
splatter his violet blood on some unsuspecting shuttle window.
Feeling something move on his head, mumbled a curse as he
realized that his headpieces were no longer arranged properly.
He noticed two individuals standing beside their shuttle, and
thrust aside his vanity as he walked into the wind to greet them.

"Welcome to the Elogian Homeworld," he shouted against the
howling wind.

"Thank you," Neelix shouted back, his hair sticking straight up
as it blew against the wind.  "Nice weather you have here."

Malboran smiled at the humour-filled tone.  "It's not so bad when
you get under a kilometre in the air," he commented back.  "But,
I must apologize for the shuttle arrangements."

Neelix could see Seven was about to make a curt remark, and
quickly cut her off.  "It's quite alright."  Seven glared at him,
strands of blond hair flying loose into golden flames.

"I assure you that this will not affect the goods you require.
We will be sending your shuttle down to level 142 where the
crystals and the plants are securely stored.  Each shuttle pad is
its own elevator."

"Excellent," Neelix beamed.

"But, for us humanoids, I suggest the transporter.  It's much
faster."  And with that, the three of them entered the
transporter pad and beamed down to ground zero.

They rematerialized, each looking distinctively unkept in
contrast to the whitewashed, tidy and serene atmosphere of the
corridor leading to Malboran's office, their ears still ringing
from the howling wind.  Seven's hair had thick strands fall lose,
while Neelix's looked like tall dried wildgrass sprouting out of
a patch.  Looking at their unkept appearance, Malboran suggested,
"I have a guest restroom over to your right.  If you like, you
can get tidied up."  He seemed to focus on Seven more so than
Neelix, even though Neelix probably needed it more than her.

They both nodded and walked over to the only door on the right
side of the hallway.  He watched them walk over, and then heard
them mumble animatedly about something.  Neelix was motioning his
hand to let Seven go in first, yet she seemed to hesitate.  In
the end, they both entered together, only to bump shoulders.

Assuming they'd be a short while, he rushed to his office to tidy
his own appearance.  Looking at his mirror, he grumbled at the
fact that his headpieces were clumped together in front on his
forehead, a patch of vitality on a pale, bald head.  

Begrudgingly, he went again to rearrange the odd-shaped spots,
making sure that they covered his entire head, each distanced
half a centimetre from each other.  Neelix and Seven walked in
just as he finished his last touch-up, their appearance back to
normal, except for Neelix's frizzy hair.

Acting unconcerned, Malboran moved over to his desk and picked up
a hand-held triangular object and passed it to Neelix.  "This is
the manifest list for the supplies we will be transporting to
your shuttle," he said with a smile.

Taking a quick glance over, Neelix replied.  "It looks about
right.  If you don't mind, I'd like to see if I can assist the
transfer crew."

Malboran was notably disappointed that they apparently did not
want to stay very long.  While it was his job to simply assist
travellers and traders in procuring what they needed or desired,
it was always in the hope of developing meaningful interpersonal
ties.  After all, he was an Ambassador, not a salesman.  "Well,
if that's what you wish, I'll take you back to the Spaceport."

"Oh, no, you needn't go through all the trouble," Neelix said.
"I'm just very eager to see the variety of edible plants you're
generously giving to us."

Malboran's spirit rose.  "Oh, in that case, if you'd like, I can
show you to our vegetation production facilities."

"Really?  That would be wonderful!  But, again, you needn't go
through all the trouble. Just tell me what to tell the
transporter, and I'll be on my way. I'm sure you're a very busy
man."

"Indeed I am," Malboran said wearily.  "But, schedules can be
delayed..."  He went out and said it, "Not friendship."

"Of course," Neelix said as they all got up and headed for the
transporter.

***************

Neelix and Malboran's laugh echoed in an enormous bunker-like
structure, encompassing hectares of lush, vegetable and fruit
laden land, brightly lit with tubed lighting elements stretching
across the entire roof, buzzing their heat and light to the
floor.  Seven sat in the back seat, efficiently reading an
Elogian PADD.  "So you're telling me," Malboran said between
chuckles, "that the Talaxian monk actually said 'pubic ministry'
instead of 'public ministry' to a crowd of 400,000?"

"Hee-hee, yes!  The next day, the media had a field day:
'Talaxian proclaims pubic ministry,'" Neelix said before cracking
up.

They gave each other a few moments to let their laughter calm
down on its own.  Malboran sighed contently before directing his
voice to the back seat, "Didn't you think that was funny, Seven?"

Matter-of-factly, she replied, "I fail to see how a Freudian slip
is considered humorous."

Neelix gave a shake of his head.  "Don't mind her, Malboran.  She
still has yet to understand the subtle nuances of Talaxian
humour."

He gave Neelix a curious glance, but agreed to not continue that
conversational thread.  Looking up and around, Neelix said, "I
must say, this is one impressive marvel of Elogian engineering."

"I do not mean to sound arrogant, but you are correct.  Three
hundred years ago, our ancestors foresaw the inevitable land
shortage of the entire planet and began building structures like
these."

"Land shortage?" Seven finally spoke up and asked.

"Yes, given the population growth projections of the time, the
Planetary Council believed that within a hundred years, the
planet could no longer sustain the population with our
inefficient distribution of land-based resources.  So, they
engaged in the most ambitious social and infrastructural
reformation in Elogian history.  It was vital that every
centimetre of land be used in the most efficient way possible.
Buildings would not stand any lower than 100 storeys,
transportation would be multi-leveled, whether it be on the
surface or underground, and all industrial production would no
longer have the luxury of inefficient warehouses stretching three
storeys high."

"You mean this greenhouse is more than one storey?"  Neelix asked
as he noticed a blue light blinking on the front console of the
cart.

"Absolutely.  It goes three levels underground, and four levels
above."  Malboran noticed the light, but ignored it.

"Astonishing!" Neelix exclaimed.

Seven became increasingly curious.  "How are you able to maintain
soil fertility?"

"The natural way.  Each level contains all the necessarily layers
of earth, insects, biodegradable material-everything to provide
the appropriate level of production.  We don't use any chemical
or technological treatments to artificially maintain soil
fertility."

"Would that not put extraordinary strain on the structure
itself?"  Neelix asked.  The light stopped blinking.

"Indeed it does," he replied.  "But our Engineers did nothing
short of a miracle.  The entire building is built bubbled layer
atop layer.  It's just that the building is so large, you cannot
tell.  These 'greenhouses' as you call them, have lasted for over
two hundred years."

"Without any degradation to its structural integrity?" Seven
asked.

"There is of course degradation, but so low that our Engineers
believe the buildings will last another 500 years before they
need to be rebuilt."

"Impressive."

"You wouldn't be the only one who has said this," Malboran
beamed.

"Could we see the other levels?" Neelix asked.

"We can, but they aren't that different to this one.  We can,
however, go to what we've designated the Galactic Garden.  It has
the widest assortment of flowers, shrubs, trees, grasses, all of
which mix into the most soothing scent you will ever find this
side of the galaxy."

"Sounds fascinating!"

Malboran smiled, happy to please his guests, and turned towards
one of the edges of the warehouse.  They retained a content
solitude as the lukewarm air, fresh with the scent of vegetative
life, swept across them.  Neelix looked around, seeing the very
neat rows of green, red, and yellow, cared for by a multitude of
women.  At least, he presumed they were women.  There wasn't much
difference of these Elogians to Malboran, except that they had
hair instead of spots.

He was about to ask about the lack of men in the fields when he
realized the cart was slowing.  Looking ahead, just before a
large, arched gate to a very bright chamber, he saw two carts
blocking their way, with a pair of tall, foreboding uniformed
Elogian women, clearly waiting for them.  Malboran appeared
frustrated by their presence.  His attitude lost its official
flare as he said to Neelix and Seven, "You two just stay quiet.
I'll take care of this."

He stopped just before touching the two women and gave a casual
smile.  "Tressa, Ranan, what a pleasant surprise!"

The two women gave quick glances to Neelix and Seven, and
maintained a forced composure.  "Ambassador Ologin," a tall,
built, aqua-blue eyed, crue-cut brunette said with slight
mockery.  "The Service has been trying to contact you for the
past hour."

"Really?  There's nothing on my Locator to suggest any incoming
messages," he said, glancing over to the PADD Seven was reading.

"Interesting," Tressa said suspiciously.  "We should get that
checked."

"Oh, you needn't bother," he said, his tone slightly
condescending.  "So, what is so important that the Service
dragged the two of you out here."

"You obviously haven't been listening," Tressa said indignantly,
shaking her head in disgust.  "We're hear to get you back to your
office and back to work."

Malboran opened his arms to display Neelix and Seven, "I am at
work."

She seemed to ignore his statement.  "The Mandalans have been
waiting for 75 minutes just to get their shuttle cleared for
landing," she said.  She gave the slightest indication of a smile
to Neelix before continuing. "While the starship Voyager is a
formidable and intriguing ship, she is not a major planetary
trading partner."

Malboran gave a huff.  "You needn't worry about the Mandalans, I
arranged everything with Partia before I left."

"She refused."

"She what?" he asked rhetorically, angry at the apparent
insubordination.  "She can't do that!"

Tressa turned wide-eyed in anger.  "What did you just say?"

His body froze, his face draining to a pale shade, not only by
the menacing attitude of Tressa, but by the shock over his own
words.  He stifled out, "I...What I meant...to say was...she
should have told me she wasn't going to reschedule."  His head
tilted down, ashamed.  Afraid.

"I see," she said, her anger contented by his change in attitude.
She turned to her partner, giving her a look that resulted in her
retreat to her conveyance.  "Well, now that we have this
misunderstanding all brought out into the open, why don't we all
head back to your office...Ambassador."

He nodded in acquiescence.  Turning the wheel as far as it could
go, he accelerated, heading back from whence they came, the two
women following in their own vehicles.  Turning to Malboran,
Neelix asked finally, "What was that all about?"

He gave a heavy sigh.  "It's a long story.  A very long story."

******************

Seven walked out of the transporter to Malboran's office to find
the hallway filled with Elogian women.  Malboran and Neelix
walked one behind the other, getting disapproving looks from them
all.  It seemed strange that so many people were standing in the
hallway, performing no apparent tasks, as the corridor lacked any
productive furniture or appliance.  As soon as she walked behind
Neelix, however, the looks changed when they were directed to
her.  They eyed her with, what she assumed to be, amused
curiosity.  Their frowns turned to polite smiles as they looked
at her face, and glancing quickly to her chest.  Looking back at
them, Seven gave them her own distinctive curious look at them,
bewildered by their odd behaviour.  She felt a sense of security
entering Malboran's office, closing the door behind her.

She walked over to his desk, and stood at attention, observing
him.  He was clearly distraught ever since his encounter with
Tressa, whom she deduced to be a part of an Elogian security
force.  The attitude of the women in the corridor did nothing to
improve his state of mind.  She watched as he slumped into his
chair, the air of Ambassadorial authority drained from him.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned over his desk and pushed a
button.  "Partia, are you there?"

A melodic, yet stern voice came from the intercom imbedded in his
desk.  "Yes, Malboran.  What is it?"

"You may now grant clearance to the Mandalan freighter."

"Good," she said curtly and cut off the comm link.

He huffed wryly and leaned back on his chair, the spots on his
head shifting out of place.

"We came all the way back here just for you to say that?" Neelix
asked astonished.  "Why didn't you just do that back at the
greenhouse?"

He smiled and pointed to the PADD Seven was holding.  "Remember?
I said it wasn't working."

She looked at the PADD, analyzing it and discovering that it was
not malfunctioning.  "Why did you lie to the woman, Tressa?"
Neelix asked.

"It's a very long story," he said wearily.  "And, as you now
know, I have a lot of work to do."

Neelix gave a compassionate smile and decided to take leave of
him.  Malboran smiled, and bowed to him, giving him the
directions for the Spaceport.  Neelix was about to leave when he
noticed Seven standing still.  "Are you coming?" he asked.

Giving a moment of contemplation, she directed to Malboran, "No.
I wish to stay and observe the Ambassador."

Both of them gave her a bewildered look.  Neelix eased over to
Seven, gently directing her to the door.  "Seven, Malboran is a
very busy man, and it would be best if we leave him to his work."

Seven resisted.  "I wish to stay.  Captain Janeway did state that
my presence here was for the purpose of improving my
ambassadorial skills.  Observing a 'busy' Ambassador would serve
my assigned purpose."

Neelix couldn't rebut her statement.  Flabbergasted, he asked
Malboran, "If that's okay with you?"

His look was still in surprise, a rush of pleasant amusement
emerging.  "It's okay with me," he said, smiling.

"Alright then.  I'll go and supervise the transfer of supplies
and be back within the hour," Neelix stated before heading out.

***************


Malboran watched him leave, and easily sat back down, giving
Seven a quick smile before getting back to work, looking down
into his desk.  She saw his desk to be a collection of imbedded
computer screens, and touch-sensitive interfaces.  She watched
his fingers efficiently dance over the interfaces, his eyes
darting from one screen to the next.  She realized that his
efficiency was similar to Ensign Kim's while he worked on the Ops
consoles.  But his efficiency slowly began to dwindle, leading up
to his looking up at a statuesque Seven of Nine, who was
observing his every move like a hawk.  Trying to break his
apparent discomfort, he asked, "Why don't you have a seat."

Her response was efficient.  "I prefer to stand."

He nodded and smiled weakly, and put his head back down towards
the screens.  His efficiency, however, was still diminishing as
the minutes passed.  Suddenly he asked in a forced polite tone,
"Are you sure you don't want to sit down?"

His second questioning was curious.  "Why do you ask?"

He didn't have a response.  He stuttered to find a reason, but
gave up, massaging his temples.  "To be honest, I just can't get
used to you staring down at me."

"Would it help if I observed horizontally?"

He chuckled.  "No, not really."  He sighed again, resigned, and
leaned back on his chair, looking back at Seven.  The shared look
remained for several moments, as if competing to find out who
would flinch first.  Malboran's gaze turned to one of increasing
amusement, while Seven remained Stoic.  In the end, he couldn't
control himself and laughed.

"What is amusing?" she asked.

"We've been here for three minutes just staring at each other!" 

"I 'am' here to observe your work patterns."

"Yes, you've said that, but I thought it would be
more...interactive."

"Interactivity with the subject of observation would colour the
investigation."

He smiled, amused by her scientific objectivity. "Seven, the
first rule of diplomacy is honourable behaviour.  In your words,
in your body language, in your thoughts.  Glaring at someone
breaks that rule in every way."

She gave a moment of consideration, yet her stance did not
change.  He was waiting for some responsive change, but gave up.
Instead he asked, "If I may ask you Seven, you are Borg,
correct?"

"I was Borg, yes."

He nodded in confirmation.  "We've had contact with the Borg."

"Yes.  Species 3913."

"By that low number, I'd say we've known each other for a long
time."

"52 years, five months, 21 days.  In that time your species has
managed to totally resist assimilation."

His eyes squinted in contemplation.  "And do you know why?"

She gave a blank look.  "How could the Borg know if they had not
assimilated any of your species."

"Exactly!" he said, snapping his fingers.  "They don't know
because they don't interact.  They observe, and if they find
something they want, they just take it, no questions asked."

"It is efficient."

"It is a weakness," he said.  "By competing for information
through conflict, they lose the trust necessary for cooperation."

"Trust is irrelevant."

"What does your humanity have to say about that?" 

His question caught her off guard.  Speaking of the Borg, she put
all her efforts in explaining her ingrained understanding of
them, with Borg concentration and focus.  Yet, it had not entered
her mind that a different perspective lay dormant within her.  

She realized that she was speaking as a Borg, with information
and history being the source of their strength.  By assimilating
individuals, the Borg squeezed out every gram of experience and
added it to the Collective consciousness.  Yet, there was
strength in knowing one's own experiences.  Rationality,
intelligence, was supported by emotions that had slowly emerged
since her liberation.  Her pride buffered her confidence.  And
with confidence, she functioned efficiently.  Negative emotion,
too, was a source of strength.  Sorrow amplified memory.  Fear
exacted erudition.  Sympathy exalted compassion.

With her own experiences, trust was not inefficient, nor
irrelevant.  It lay at the source of strength for humanoid
existence outside the Borg.  Only by being granted trust from
Janeway soon after being removed from the Collective could she
leave the brig, could she begin to experience human
individuality.  Only with the trust Lieutenant Torres had in
Janeway's judgement would she let her clean up the ship of Borg
components.  Without trust, any social, political, or military
organization could exist without the implicit understanding of
superior and subordinate, mentor and disciple, parent and child.
She looked up to Malboran and said, "Trust is not irrelevant.  It
is necessary."

"Yes, and the only way to gain trust is through interaction," he
said softly.  "We, along with hundreds of other species, have
managed to resist the Borg because we've managed to share our
thoughts cooperatively, trading secrets with each other, helping
entire civilizations resist assimilation."

"It appears to be more efficient."

"Not efficient.  Effective."  He grinned. "Another rule about
diplomacy is that diction and interpretation are your best
sources of strength."

"Apparently," Seven said, slightly defiant.

He notice her tone and failed to hide his amusement.  "Seven, the
point is, if you want to observe, you're going to have to
interact.  As Captain Janeway so colloquially said to me, 'It's
the name of the game.'"

"I understand."  She paused to think of what else to say, but her
mind went blank.  For a moment that seemed like an eternity, she
stood, her eyes aimlessly gazed out the window, looking for
something to comment on.  

Malboran saw the confusion in her face, and suggested, "Why don't
I show you my desk?"  

She was relieved to be given something to 'observe' and walked
behind the desk, beside Malboran's chair.  He busily tapped in a
few sequences to vary the information on the screens.  Feeling
her presence beside him, he turned around, to look up at her
face, only to find Seven's breasts blocking the view.  Like the
women in the hallway, he eyed them with curiosity, but quickly
turned back around to refocus his mind.  

Awkwardly pointing to a screen on the top, right corner of the
desk, he said, "This...uh...screen is showing the arrival list of
ships landing or preparing to land at the Spaceport.  Basically,
it shows arrival time, place of origin, cargo manifests or
requests."  He keyed in a sequence as he said, "If I needed to, I
could access a detailed report of any particular ship,
cross-referencing to previous trades, political and economic
links to other allied planets, or detailed information of the
ship's crew.  Anything."

Impressed, she asked, "Is this another…monument to your great
Elogian reformation?"  She clearly was trying to choose her words
carefully.

"Yes, indeed it is.  This building was constructed about 150
years ago, about the same time the Spaceport was being built.
Because The Service would be the vital 'Elogian touch' to the
Spaceport's purpose, they made an explicit attempt to link the
two structures to the same computer networking system."

"Are other systems linked to yours?"

"Yes, but they are more or less independent from ours.  The
greenhouse mainframe is connected to the global network, but it
can easily be severed.  One thing the Planetary Council was
concerned about was a total shutdown of the planet's computer
system.  So, they decentralized it."

"That is similar to the Borg."

"Yes, it is," he said, turning to glimpse her face.  

Just then, Neelix returned, and found Malboran in mid-movement,
his face not yet peering over Seven's chest.  "Am I interrupting
something?" he asked.

Malboran spun around surprised.  "Neelix!  You're back so soon."

There was a dubious look on Neelix's face, but he let it pass.
"Well, chalk it up to Elogian efficiency.  By the time I got
there, they were almost done."

"Our workers can be very motivated."  With a tone of sadness, he
asked, "I take it, you're here to retrieve Seven from my
company?"

"Yes, we must be on our way."  Neelix sensed his shift in
attitude, and impulsively asked, "Why don't you join us?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come back with us to Voyager.  I can prepare a meal fit for an
Ambassador!"

Malboran was very hesitant.   Despite all the encouragement
Neelix could muster, Malboran wouldn't accept his offer.  "At
least ask your superior, what was she, 'Her Excellency'?"

"Alright, alright," he acquiesced.  He typed a priority message
to her Excellency's office, and quickly got a reply.  "Negative."

Neelix remained unrelenting.  "Tell them it will only be for a
few hours."

He typed in the request again, but only to receive a negative
response.  "Why not?" Neelix asked.

"I can't ask that," Malboran replied.  "You don't question Her
Excellency's judgement."

"Well, we'll see about that," Neelix said defiantly.  "Neelix to
Janeway."

"Janeway here, what is it Neelix?" came from the comm badge.

"I'd like to invite Ambassador Ologin to a special banquet in his
honour, but the Elogian authorities are creating a bit of a snag
down here.  Perhaps if you made a formal request?"

Malboran stood from his chair, alarmed.  "No, Neelix, you needn't
do that!"

"I'll see what I can do, Janeway out."

Malboran was becoming figgity and concerned.  "You really didn't
have to go to all the trouble.  I have lots of work to do.  The
Mandalan shipment is quite a complex one."

"All the more reason for you to get some much needed R&R."

"R&R?" 

"Rest and Relaxation," Seven explained.

Just then Neelix's comm badge chirped to life.  "Neelix,
permission has been granted."

Neelix smiled triumphantly, opening the door to Malboran's
office.  "After you, Ambassador."

**************	

For the first time in a very long time, Malboran began to feel
excessively self-conscious.  Not only was he constantly checking
on the position of his spots, he was breathing deeply, as if
building up a reservoir in case he was to pass out.  His mind was
unfocused, constantly changing subjects, barely touching a
thought before moving on to something else.  It was an unending
cycle of responsibilities he kept trying to put in his mind, to
alleviate the worry of meeting Captain Janeway.

He was unprepared.  Caught off guard.  How should he stand in
front of her?  Should he make eye contact?  Put his hands in
front or behind him as he walked?  Were his spots arranged
properly?  How should he react to her smile?  Should he make a
joke?  Questions upon questions piled up in his mind, that by the
time they had reached the shuttlebay, he was a nervous wreck.

"Protocol; protocol; protocol," he chanted quietly to himself.
The only thing that would keep him calm was sticking with
ambassadorial protocol.  Pleasant smiles, endless comments of
praise, unwaivering eyes, Stoic body language.  Keep it at that,
and all will be fine.  Seeing the back door open, he chanted
those words with increasing tenacity as he stood up, Neelix and
Seven passing him and waiting for the door to open.

His eyes followed the top of the door as it slowly descended.  He
saw a horizontal, grey girder, then the top of what appeared to
be an arch.  As the door lowered further he saw it to be a large
door, likely an entrance to the rest of the ship.  He looked a
bit to the side to notice stacks of blue cargo containers stacked
neatly on shelves that went all the way up to the roof of the
shuttle bay.  He found it odd that there would be cargo in what
was designated as a shuttle bay, but he rationalized that Voyager
likely had to store more resources than normal as their travels
towards the Alpha Quadrant did not guarantee regular resource
replenishment.

But rationality went out the airlock as he turned forward and saw
Captain Janeway's face.  It looked more beautiful than he ever
imagined.  Sure, he had seen her over the comm channel, but
regardless of the crystal clear digital quality of the
communication feed, it could never fully transfer the aura he saw
at that moment.

As the door neared the floor, Seven turned around to politely
usher the Ambassador out of the shuttle.  Looking at his slightly
flushed face and clearly dilated eyes, she gave him a
discriminating look.  "Ambassador?"

Years of interaction with alien cultures had taught him that
Seven's look was one of concern, bordering on mistrust.  He
automatically gave her a mechanical smile and walked down the
ramp directly to the Captain, who was flanked by five other
officers.

"Welcome, Ambassador," Janeway greeted, bowing slightly.

Malboran bowed in return.  "Thank you, Captain.  It's a pleasure
to finally meet you in person."  

"You can thank Mr. Neelix for that."

"Of course.  But it would not have been possible without
your...empowered support."

Janeway smiled at his compliment and turned to introduce her
senior staff.  He looked at each of them as she announced them,
and bowed slightly in recognition.  "It's a pleasure to meet you
all."  Turning back to Janeway, he said, "I must say, if this
shuttle bay is any indication, you have quite an impressive
ship."

"She's held together pretty well these past five years," she said
with an ounce of pride. "After doing some reading on your world,
I must admit, it is quite amazing itself."

"Perhaps," he said modestly.  "But seeing a ship of this calibre,
from the other side of the galaxy no doubt, is a very special
moment."

"You are more than welcome to tour the ship whenever you like."

"Thank you, Captain."

Janeway turned to Neelix and said, "Why don't you show the
Ambassador to his quarters."

"I'd like nothing better to do Captain, but I think I should get
started on that special banquet for Mr. Ologin."

"Of course," she replied.  "Seven, why don't you do the honours."

She nodded in agreement.  "If you will come with me, Ambassador."

"Lead the way," he said jovially.

As he left the shuttlebay with Seven, his initial apprehension
subsided, replaced with a joyful contentment.  All the way to his
quarters he had a growing smile on his face, as if each step
brought a greater happiness to him.  Whether he felt he deserved
such joy or not, he knew that his presence on the ship was a
developing dream come true.

Arriving in his quarters, he invited Seven in.  She hesitated,
explaining that protocol stated it inadvisable to enter an
Ambassador's quarters as soon as he arrived aboard ship.  But,
after a bit of logical manipulation and diplomatic
interpretation, she entered.  "Would you like a drink?" Malboran
asked.

"I do not require any liquid sustenance."

He smiled.  "Isn't there a Starfleet protocol somewhere that says
it's bad form to not accept a drink from an Ambassador?"

She was about to respond, but an internal realization stopped her
before she uttered a syllable.  "Yes."

"So then, what would you like to drink?"

"I do not know," she said, staring blankly at Malboran.

"I take it people don't often offer you a drink."

"Quite the contrary.  Certain crewmembers do offer 'a drink,' but
I regularly decline their offer."

"I, on the other hand, rarely decline a drink.  For one thing,
it's bad manners, for an Ambassador at least, but most of all, it
gives me the opportunity to try out some alien concoctions," he
said gleefully, rubbing his hands together in anticipation,
eyeing the replicator.  "I've been doing some research of the
information Captain Janeway shared with us, and I am very
interested in trying out...Saurian brandy."  

He ordered a glass and examined its unique, almost florescent
green colour.  He waved the glass gently, swirling the brandy so
as to smell its unique aroma under his flattened nose.  After
lifting the glass up to his eye level to get a second glance, he
gulped the beverage in one long, constant swig.

His eyes closed, Malboran slowly removed the glass from his lips,
his throat still swallowing the last remnants of the brandy in
his mouth.  He remained motionless, his breath halted, relishing
in the after effects of this quick intake.  Soon enough, the
alcoholic effect took over, his throat unable to handle the
intense burning.  He slowly wheezed, the small vibrations of his
vocal chords massaging the intensity away.  He turned to Seven, a
broad smile on his face.  His voice was a hoarse whisper.
"W-o-w!" 

Seven raised her eyebrow curiously.  Malboran continued, "Now
that's good.  Very, very, good!"

"Her curiosity remained unabated.  "What is 'good' about it?"

He shook his head exaggeratedly.  "Tsk, tsk, Seven.  You just
can't explain the effect a good alcoholic drink can have."

"By the flushness of your face, and the growing disequilibrium of
your balance centres, it appears the only 'good' is that you are
intoxicated."

"There's nothing necessarily wrong with that," he said before
snickering. "In fact, Ambassadors have been known to do their
best work after a few drinks."

"I find that difficult to believe."

He tried to look serious for a moment as he wobbled over to the
couch.  "You haven't been doing your homework, Seven," he said,
plopping himself down.  "The Politeks.  One of our oldest trade
partners.  When a conflict broke out between them and the
Woracians, we stepped in to mediate.  And do you know how we
managed to do it?"

She looked unimpressed. "You intoxicated them."

He considered her interpretation for a moment before saying,
"Something like that.  We just so happen to have the Politeks'
favourite beverage at the negotiations, and the Woracians' as
well.  Of course, the more frustrated they got, the more they
drank, and soon enough, they had had enough, and they signed a
treaty before the day was out."

"It sounds incredible."

He laughed.  "Next time you come back down to the planet, I'll
show you.  We have the whole thing on tape!" He laughed,
repeating the drunken images in his mind.  He glanced over at
Seven, thinking she would be laughing with him, but saw the
opposite.  "Oh, Seven, you definitely have to get a sense of
humour!"

"I was simply trying to understand how the Politeks and the
Woracians maintained the treaty given the obviously irregular
circumstances of their agreement."

"It's simple," he said.  "When they came to their senses
afterwards and saw the tape, they laughed themselves back to the
bargaining table.  They saw how ridiculous they looked, and
realized they weren't all that different, and settled their
differences.  To this day, they are the strongest partners in the
Elogian Alliance."

"Clearly a 'sense of humour' is an…effective attribute to
possess."

He smiled to her.  "Ambassadors know how to have fun!"

**************

End Part 4b/?  To be Continued...

Please email feedback to: rcchu@interchange.ubc.ca.
Story Copyright 1999 Richard Chu.