Ghost of a Chance by Charles G. McGraw, Mark Garland Page B

quicker—a particular advantage just now.
    She hesitated while the galley door slid open, then pushed her way inside.
    “Torres, won’t you join us?” Commander Chakotay said, waving her toward the long, shiny table where he sat with Lieutenant Paris, Neelix, Kes, and the three Drosary advocates.
    Quite a crowd already, B’Elanna decided. They didn’t need to make it any larger. And in any case, she was not thrilled with the idea of wasting a lot of time talking with creatures who didn’t seem that interested in talking to her—and probably for good reason.
    She still wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t like these Drosary no matter how she tried to rationalize the situation, and she was fairly certain they didn’t like her, either. “I’m a little busy right now,” she said.
    “I’ve only got a minute.”
    “Just for a moment, then,” Chakotay said, to agreeable nods from the others. “I insist.”
    It wasn’t an order. The commander was apparently just being cordial, for whatever reason. But that wasn’t the point. She didn’t want to tell him no. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to ask Kes how she was doing in any case.
    “Please, we would enjoy your company,” Jonal said, waving much as Chakotay had done, getting it almost right. A change of heart, perhaps, B’Elanna thought, noting that even Neelix seemed to be enjoying the Drosary’s company just now. But prudence had always been considered a valuable survival trait by nearly all species, B’Elanna thought, including both of hers.
    “Let me grab a bite first,” she said, lifting lids on pots, searching for breakfast, though she wasn’t at all certain what meal the time of day required. She ended up with a bowl of something that was apparently hot cereal but was definitely not made of oats. She tasted it as she walked toward the table. The grain was palatable, a variety Neelix had helped find and gather several weeks ago on a planet very much like Drenar Four. You just needed to put a lot of sweetener on it, she decided. An awful lot.
    “How’s the arm?” she asked.
    “Better, thanks,” Kes replied. She grinned broadly. “We have an excellent medical staff.”
    “So I understand,” B’Elanna said. She sat down and began to spoon the thick yellowish porridge into her mouth.
    “The doctor can hardly manage without Kes,” Neelix said proudly.
    “But he’ll just have to manage for a little while longer.”
    “Your concern for one another is refreshing,” Jonal said. “Even among different species.”
    “We have a great deal in common, it seems,” Chakotay began.
    B’Elanna looked up. “Who does?”
    “Tassay and I. The Drosary and the Maquis. Our part of the galaxy and theirs.” He smiled with genuine enthusiasm, something of a surprise to B’Elanna. “The Drosary have always desired a peaceful existence,” he continued. “They would rather put their resources into building a colony, a better way of life, than fighting wars for governments they feel they have no part in.
    All that was taken away from them.”
    “One of the reasons we started our own colony,” Tassay interjected, “was to escape the destruction of our culture, which goes back much further than my current homeworld’s culture. The old ways, the old traditions, are all but gone now. All of our ancient customs are being lost.”
    Chakotay sat back and gazed warmly at her. “It seems we have even more in common than I thought.”
    “I ended up on that colony, where the Televek found us, for a very different reason, I’m afraid,” Mila said, apparently addressing everyone, but looking mostly at Paris. “Personal reasons, I guess you could say.”
    “Tell me about them,” Paris said, as sincere as B’Elanna had ever seen him.
    Mila grew somber for a moment, thoughtful. Then she seemed to recover.
    “Very well. There was an accident on a small commercial space transport during a routine trip to one of my world’s two moons. The ship was nearly lost, and