Star Trek: Brinkmanship Read Online Free PDF

be a while,” said Gerety.
    “I’ll be available,” Dygan said, avoiding Worf’s eyes, and starting to shepherd his four compatriots toward the corridor. In the turbolift, Worf loomed over them all like clouds over the Andak Mountains, but the new arrivals were impervious to his disapproval and made cheerful small talk. Reaching the reception, Dygan let them loose among their Ferengi counterparts and glanced worriedly around the room.
    Captain Picard, seeing him, beckoned to Dygan to join him.
    “I don’t see your head of mission, Dygan. Has Negotiator Detrek lost her way?”
    “I’m afraid she’s not yet come on board, sir. I understand she’s taking a message from the castellan.”
    Picard’s lips pursed. Dygan frowned. The captain liked things to be orderly. Dygan shared this attitude, as he’d found over the months that he shared many of the captain’s ideas. Dygan’s respect for Picard bordered on the devotional. He most certainly did not like to contribute even in a small way to making Picard’s life more disorganized.
    “Well,” Picard said, with a slight sigh, “I’m sure she—or perhaps your castellan—has a very good reason for the delay.”
    “I’m sure that must be the case, sir.”
    Picard looked around the room and gave a brisk nod at what he saw. “The rest of the delegation seems very much at ease,” he said, watching two junior negotiators in lively conversation with their Ferengi opposites and some distance away from Commander Worf. “Good work, Dygan.”
    With that praise ringing in his ears, Dygan was at last prepared to relax. The reception passed smoothly. Dygan had an entertaining conversation with a junior Ferengi negotiator called Rekkt, who pressed him unsuccessfully for information about the Federation team and tried to sell him a tasting holiday at a kanar distillery. He introduced some of his colleagues fromthe Enterprise to the members of the Cardassian team, and a more informal gathering in The Riding Club was arranged for later. This gathering, when it occurred, transformed rapidly into a good-naturedly competitive and synthol-fueled six-handed kotra tournament that Sub-Negotiator Entrek lost only narrowly to the Enterprise ’s senior counselor, Doctor Hegol. (Hegol, a Bajoran, even managed not to make the Cardassians feel as if they’d lost the Dominion War all over again.) All in all, Dygan thought, as he rolled into his quarters some hours later than usual, it had been a good start to the mission, fully in the spirit of interspecies friendship and cooperation. He could sleep happy.
    But even the just, dedicated, and hardworking are not always rewarded with their beauty sleep. Dygan’s day was not over yet. Thirty-six minutes after his head touched his pillow, he was pulling his uniform straight and sprinting down the corridor toward the turbolift. Negotiator Detrek was finally putting in an appearance.
    Dygan sped into the transporter room and came to a halt at Captain Picard’s left shoulder. Picard glanced at him, up and down (Dygan now looked immaculate), and grunted approval.
    “Perfect timing,” Picard murmured—presciently, since Detrek immediately materialized.
    She was a tall, stern woman—iron haired and flint eyed—exactly the kind of strong-minded individual that had come to populate the upper ranks of the Cardassian civil service since the end of the DominionWar. Cardassia was currently in the hands of resolute and principled public servants who fully understood the nature of the calamity that had befallen their beloved home and were determined never to let it happen again. Dygan wholeheartedly approved of her and her kind. This was why he had applied for the officer exchange program. Cardassians had to be serious about their desire for change, serious about their desire to participate in the affairs of the quadrant as reliable allies. It was the responsibility of all Cardassian citizens to show that they could be trusted.
    Picard stepped