Star Trek: Erin

Part 47: Diplomats are Mean

     I met a total of two diplomats before the Enterprise, and both were mean to me. The first had been on Glock V when I was three, so I don't remember it. It was one of those baby-kissing events, and he dropped me. The second had been at an Academy event. I said hi, she said fuck off. Maybe she was going through something, but I didn't appreciate it.

     So I didn't have great previous experiences with diplomats.

     Anyway, the point is that the Enterprise was playing host to a ton of diplomats on their way to a big conference. In preparation, a meeting of security officers in our section was called, with Lieutenant Commander Parra giving a presentation. He burst into the room when everyone was assembled, looking the most uncomfortable I'd ever seen him in the dress uniform. He didn't waste a second with formalities, which was always jarring for those who'd never met the guy. "Alrighty, let's make this snappy so we can get on with our lives. I need three honour guard shifts. One all men, one all women, one mixed. For greeting ambassadors from patriarchal, matriarchal, or a bit more progressive cultures. It'll be fun. Probably. Just try to look presentable." Parra cracked his knuckles. "Fuck yeah, I'm killing this," he said under his breath, which the microphone unfortunately picked up. Louder, "I need a dozen officers. You'll be heading security details for priority ambassadors. Preferably junior lieutenants. Lieutenants can figure it out, but list needs to be in my hands in the next two hours. Also note the word priority. Don't pick juniors that will make security look useless or boring."

     A couple of the junior lieutenants near me looked vaguely annoyed, which makes you wonder.

     Parra picked out a couple lieutenants, one being Nowak. "There will be a reception the evening our last delegation gets aboard. Vulcans, so the honour guard better shine their phasers. And for the love of god's green hell, don't use boot polish. We all know what happens, right, Eggy?"

     Junior Lieutenant 'Eggy' Blade grinned good-naturedly. I raised an eyebrow.

     "Anyway, Lieutenants Nowak and Habergaff will be taking care of security for that reception. Any questions go through them. Any other problems, talk to your lieutenant. This is your one chance to ask me questions. Go."

     "What sections of the ship are off-limits to ambassadors?"

     Parra pointed at the ensign who'd spoken. "Gold star for Ensign Kipper. That is the million-dollar question. Let's say any place you aren't allowed, and anywhere you think an ambassador shouldn't be, and I'll get back to you on a concrete list. Which brings up another point. We will have one-hundred and forty-one ambassadors here. Not all of them get details, but that doesn't mean the others won't be watched. You are going to sit on nails for the next two weeks. Keeping the peace is all you care about. In fact, I'm encouraging you people to collaborate. If you have to detour your dynamite to keep away from the spark, do it."

     "What if a diplomat tries to get us to talk politics?"

     Parra spread his hands. "Do I have to say it? Starfleet wants this planet in the Federation. If you personally don't agree, you might be working for the wrong people." He adjusted his mic. "Again, talk to your lieutenant if you've a specific problem. Next."

     "Do we answer to the ambassadors, or...?"

     "No. You answer to me, the captain, Starfleet. On this ship, while I'm alive, ambassadors have no authority to threaten discipline. Anyone else? No? Great. Shut up, get out, and get to work. Dismissed."

     Nowak approached me as everyone was moving out. "I would like to assign you as head of Ambassador Occolum's detail."

     I didn't remember the name from the briefing, but I was sure they'd be fine. "Sounds cool. I'm not terribly great at diplomacy. This'll be a good practice opportunity."