Assassination Game Read Online Free PDF

doing all the talking—a cardinal first-date sin.
    “So. Enough about my boring research project,” he said. “Tell me everything about yourself, beginning withyour parents and your parents’ parents and leading up to, oh, this afternoon.”
    Nadja laughed. “Well, my grandfather was German, and my grandmother was Russian. I’m named after her. After my parents met in college, they got the crazy idea to move to the Vega colony. I was born on the way.”
    “A space boomer, eh? That explains a lot.”
    “Does it?”
    “Sure. Why else would anyone want to join up with an organization that ships you off into space on five-year missions, trapped inside a glorified tin can with a warp engine strapped to it?”
    “That doesn’t explain why you joined up, Leonard McCoy.”
    “Oh no. We’re talking about you, remember? I think you left off around the time you were born, which means you’ve got another couple of decades to cover.”
    The path they were walking on came out into a large open area where tourists from around the quadrant were taking holo-pics of the San Francisco skyline. Mrs. Penelope barked at a squirrel and gave chase, and McCoy and Nadja sat on a bench.
    “There’s not much else to tell. I spent the early part of my life in the Vega colony, then my parents died, and I was shipped back to Earth to be raised by my grandparents in Frankfurt. I spent a couple of years in college, then applied for Starfleet Academy and got in. And here I am.”
    “Seems like there’s an awful lot in there to tell,” McCoy said. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
    Nadja shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
    She left it at that, and so did McCoy.
    Mrs. Penelope emerged from a copse a few meters away and ran toward a small group of people farther down the overlook, barking her head off.
    “Uh-oh,” Nadja said. “Looks like we have a distress call.”
    McCoy nodded. “Starfleet regulations mandate we check it out.”
    As they got closer, McCoy saw Mrs. Penelope harrying a group of protesters with signs. They chanted, “Varkolak, go home,” over the little terrier’s barking and held signs that read IF YOU’RE NOT WITH US, YOU’RE AGAINST US , and FEDERATION FIRST. The tourists were doing their best to avoid them, but the group had claimed one of the best photo-op spots on the headlands.
    “What is this nonsense?” McCoy asked. Nadja picked up her dog and quieted her, but the protesters kept chanting without answering him. McCoy had little patience for close-minded, xenophobic attitudes like this, though he knew they still existed on Earth. Not all the protesters were human, though, including, he was angry to realize, a Tellarite medical cadet he knew from the Academy. He got in the cadet’s face.
    “You. Your name’s Daagen, isn’t it? You’re a Starfleet cadet, man! You joined an organization dedicated to openness. Peaceful exploration. Diplomacy. ‘Varkolak, go home’? ‘Federation First’? You can’t have it both ways.”
    The short, bearded, snout-faced Tellarite smiled. “You forget, Dr. McCoy—it is McCoy, isn’t it? You forget, Dr., that the Federation began as a defensive alliance. A shield raised against our common enemies. So I can have it both ways. I can at once be dedicated to the organization I chose to serve and insist that its enemies—who do not share its lofty ideals, I might note—not be allowed to wander the grounds of its headquarters.”
    “Damn it, man, we’re not going to bring peace to the galaxy by alienating everyone who doesn’t agree with us. We’ve got to find common ground, and that starts by talking. Getting rid of some of the mystery. The misconceptions and misunderstandings. We show ’em enough of who we are, and maybe one day the Varkolak will join us.”
    “Next you would have me believe we will one day be allies with the Klingons,” Daagen said.
    Behind Daagen, the protesters continued to chant, “Varkolak, go home.” McCoy felt his fists clench