Lieutenant Commander Cassidy Montgomery sat at her desk, annoyed.  Frustrated.  Not quite furious, but certainly on the jagged path to angry.  The Frelian ambassador had brought one of the many stress tests to a sudden halt with her outright refusal to participate in the impending containment drill.  Her reasoning?  The government of the Frelian people had never agreed to be subjected to Starfleet security procedures.

Cassidy grumbled, “What a crock.”  And yet, the refusal remained, even after an initial attempt had been made to encourage the unrepentant ambassador.  Her non-medical solutions had included creating a medical situation to put the Frelian ambassador into a bed for the duration of the drill.  Her assistant had given her a long look.  Back to the drawing board.  She checked her chronometer.  Ensign Carson was due in her office in ten minutes.  He’d been assigned to the ambassador upon her arrival a week ago.  Cassidy hoped the yeoman had some ideas on changing the recalcitrant ambassador.

Ten minutes later, Ensign Aaron Carson entered Dr. Montgomery’s office and took the proffered seat.  He had graduated from the Academy and been assigned to Starbase Bravo a scant two months ago, and was already weathering his second crisis.  His harried appearance and prominent frown verified Montgomery’s fears that the ambassador was standing firm in her refusal to participate in future drills.

As expected, the start of the meeting was confirmation on both sides that a solution had not been found.  Carson detailed his hurdles.  “The senior officers just instruct me to ‘figure it out.’  The other JO’s just laugh and say they’re glad they’re not me.  And Senior Chief says that’s why he’s enlisted and not an officer, so he doesn’t have to deal with, and I quote, ‘dipshit diplomats.'”

Cassidy tutted the young ensign gently, “Your senior chief needs a lesson in how to model language use, for one.  Diplomats may earn nicknames, but if that ever gets back to ours, stubborn refusal will be the least of our problems.”  The deputy chief grumbled, “Your frustration is noted.  I’ve not had much luck myself, so you’re not alone.  My current plan is to put our friendly neighborhood diplomat into a bio-bed for some medical reason for the duration.”  She grimaced at saying the words out loud and waited for Carson’s reply.

“I don’t know, Commander.  It’s pretty crazy, if I’m honest.  And I’m not sure it’s entirely ethical.”

Montgomery chuckled darkly, “I never said it was a good idea, Ensign.  It has the merits of having never been tried, at least under my time as deputy chief.”  She leaned back in her chair.  Diplomats were her least favorite patients.  So fiddly.  So stubborn.  So annoying.  Cassidy caught a look from the ensign.  “Looks like you’ve got an idea.”

Carson replied, “It seems that regardless of their personality, all ambassadors have one thing in common.  Their biggest fear is failure of their mission.  What if we convinced her that not participating in the drills puts her mission in serious jeopardy?”

Cassidy sat up as the young ensign finished. She hadn’t thought about that element.  Using the diplomat’s mission as leverage was stronger than forced imprisonment in a bio-bed.  “Not just that…we could find a way for her to be involved in the scenario as some kind of accountability partner to ensure procedures are followed…from a diplomatic sense.”

The two conspirators discussed the idea and possible ways to implement it.  About 15 minutes later, they had a plan.  Was it underhanded and sneaky?  Absolutely–but then again, wasn’t that the unofficial definition of diplomacy?  Was it unethical?  Except for a few misrepresentations and exaggerations, there was no harm being inflicted upon the ambassador, so probably not.  Did it have a chance of succeeding?  Well, desperate times often required desperate measures.

Cassidy grinned as she tapped out the final details.  “I’ll invite the ambassador for a meeting in an hour.”

“You must know, I have already registered my complaints.”  The Frelians were humanoid, aside from the light blue skin and slightly yellowed eyes.  They were isolated to a small system, and only one planet to call home.  A modest population of 2,000 was enough to give them a seat at the Bravo Station table.

Cassidy sat up straight in her chair, a quiet resolve reflected in her eyes.  “I’ve read them.  Your case will be heard and take time to be addressed.”  She nodded to the ensign.  “Ensign Carson has worked up a proposal.”  She slid the PADD over to the Frelian woman.

She read carefully, her eyes moving as she spoke, “We will acquiesce to the Frelian ambassador’s claim that they are not subject to Starfleet procedures.  However, this will cause endless complications for the ambassador and her people.”  She looked up and Cassidy shrugged.

“It’s either all or nothing, Ambassador.  We can’t choose which procedures to follow or not follow.  We must treat everyone equally.”

The ambassador grumbled, “You would withhold care?”

“No”, Cassidy answered. “Emergency care and urgent care would be provided.  However, more specific care or science work would require more…paperwork.”

That caused the ambassador’s eyes to shoot up.  “I hate paperwork.  It is a human invention.”  The woman’s stare was hostile and she looked to Carson and Montgomery.  “You say in here there is something for me.”

Carson identified one of the openings he and Montgomery had discussed.  He took over the conversation.  “Madame Ambassador, there may be an alternative that may eliminate most of the paperwork.  In lieu of participating in future drills and exercises, the Frelian delegation will provide a service much more valuable than exercise participants.  Your delegation will provide observers and evaluators instead.  There is usually a shortage of evaluators during these exercises, so your assumption of this alternative role would be greatly valued and appreciated.  And of course, during the formal write-ups, your enhanced role during the drills will be duly recognized.”

The ambassador cocked her head to the side.  “You would do this?  Why?”

“These drills are an important safety precaution for everyone’s safety, which is why most races freely participate.  But we also understand that there are also individual circumstances that you may not be comfortable with.  And on behalf of Starfleet, I apologize that we did not recognize this earlier and work it out before it became an issue.  But one of Starfleet’s strengths is its appreciation and adoption of the Vulcan IDIC philosophy.  We are not trying to force you to do something against your will.  So if we can find a different role, we will happily provide one.  And it’s not just providing additional observers; I’ll bet that your unique perspectives will help identify improvements that we would not have found otherwise.”

The ambassador was silent as she thought through the proposal.  “Show me this alternative.”

Carson did not hesitate for fear of giving the ambassador time to change her mind.  He quickly activated his PADD and projected documents on a holodisplay above the center of the table.  Over the next fifteen minutes, he pulled up documents, explained their contents, gave the ambassador a chance to read them, then quickly advanced to the next one.

The seventh document projected above the table.  “This exhibit is the description and acknowledgement that execution is contingent upon acceptance by all other participating races.  In lieu of a general assembly and vote, a super majority proxy count will be…”

The ambassador waved her hands, flustered as she interrupted the ensign.  “Send the details to my assistant.  I’ll sign it if it means I don’t have to sit in this meeting any longer.”

Montgomery’s smile was wide as she turned to Carson.  “Well, Ensign Carson…what do you think about that?”

The concentration on Carson’s face melted into shock and surprise.  After her previous stubbornness and the official complaints, he did not expect the ambassador to agree so readily.  “Um, I think that will be acceptable, Madame Ambassador.  Um, you would just have to sign a proxy allowing your assistant and I to complete the paperwork.”

Patience was not one of the characteristics usually used to describe the Frelian ambassador.  “Fine.  Where is it?” she growled.

It had taken Carson most of the hour he had before the meeting to draft the documents.  He had not anticipated needing this proxy.  His jaw dropped as his panic-stricken face bounced between the Starfleet doctor and the Frelian ambassador.  “I apologize, Madame Ambassador.  I did not prepare a proxy in advance.”

Fortunately for the young ensign, LCDR Montgomery calmly stepped in to salvage the agreement.

Cassidy stood, giving the requisite bow.  “We’ll get it to you.  Thank you, Ambassador.”  The woman bowed hastily, and walked out, clearly needing to be somewhere else.  The deputy chief turned to Carson.  “Not bad, Ensign Carson.  Not bad at all.”

Carson’s shaking legs gave out and he sank back into his seat.  “Thank you, Commander,” he managed.  He gave a mirthless laugh before continuing.  “Gods, I thought I blew it at the end.  Thank you for saving me.”

The deputy director chuckled.  “We both saved each other, I think, Ensign Carson.”