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Authors: Una McCormack

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Media Tie-In, #Fiction

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BOOK: Star Trek: Brinkmanship
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“Or not officially authorized, at least,” Ilka retorted.

“Ilka, please,” Crusher said softly. The Ferengi woman, turning her way, gave Crusher a sad smile.

“Well,” she said, “having got off to that dreadful start, when we reconvened I was rather at a disadvantage. Even more so when Rusht announced immediately that she intended to speak to you all tomorrow morning—”

“But that’s excellent news!” Jeyn cried. “Madame Ilka, I’m not sure we can thank you enough—”

“Don’t start thanking me yet,” Ilka said bluntly. “I haven’t finished. That’s the good news, although what exactly Rusht has to say to you, and whether or not you’ll be given the opportunity to reply, I don’t know.” She sighed and closed her eyes briefly.

Here it comes,
thought Crusher.
The bad news
.

“My government,” Ilka said, “was extremely concerned to hear about the bomb on Outpost V-4.”

“In fact we have no proof that such a thing exists,” Picard said. “Only a report from Heldon—”

“Her word is good enough for me, Captain Picard,” Ilka said softly. “And certainly good enough for my government. Which, as I say, was most concerned to hear about it, and most eager to disassociate itself from it—”

“Naturally,” said Picard, “anyone would. President Bacco has already issued a statement conveying her shock at the news and assuring the Venetans of her desire to discover the guilty parties, whoever they may be. I don’t doubt she’s ready to give the same assurances to your ambassador.”

“Unfortunately, those assurances would be coming too late. My government, on realizing that its direct channel to the Tzenkethi and the Venetans was still open despite this news”—Ilka touched her chest—“instructed me to make an agreement with the Venetans that secures Ferengi interests. This I have done. The removal of our people from Venette has already begun, and we are in the process of coming to an agreement over the lease of the Venetan base on our border, particularly on the matter of there being permanent Ferengi observers in place. Both Rusht and Alizome were eager to discuss possible concessions—”

“Well, of course they were,” said Jeyn angrily. “You’ve done a deal at our expense!”

“Ambassador Jeyn,” said Ilka quietly, “I’ve done what my government instructed. You would have done exactly the same.”

Not at the expense of our allies,
Crusher thought. She felt bitter, angry . . . betrayed, even. And foolish. She thought she’d made a connection with Ilka. It seemed she’d been badly mistaken. When Ilka gave her an apologetic look, Crusher turned away.

“Does your government understand, Ilka,” Picard said, “that this is not a guarantee of protection for Ferenginar if war does indeed break out? The Typhon Pact will not distinguish between those members of the accords that stood firm and those that did not. More likely you have presented yourselves to them as weak.”

“Maybe,” said Ilka, “and maybe not. That is a risk my government is apparently willing to take.
Tsch!
None of us wants war, Captain. I believe that even of the Tzenkethi. Yet nobody seems prepared to say ‘Stop!’ Perhaps this will serve as the wake-up call we all need.”

“I hope so, Madame Ilka.” Picard rose from his seat. “We should not keep you any longer. No doubt you have a great deal to do. Thank you for your efforts on our behalf.”

Ilka, with a rather shaky sigh, stood up. Picard offered his hand freely. Jeyn, reluctantly, did the same.

“Well, my friends,” Ilka said, “I know that this is hardly the news you were hoping to hear, and it is a matter of very deep regret to me that I have to be the one to bring it. I’ll be joining our people at our embassy now and leaving with them tomorrow.” She
glanced at Crusher, who had remained seated. “I sincerely hope that the Great River brings you all in time to a safe haven.”

Ilka turned and headed toward the door. After a moment, Crusher followed her out.

“Ilka,” she called after her. “Wait a moment.”

Ilka turned. “Beverly,” she said with a small sad smile.

Crusher was about to say something angry but then stopped. Was that fair? Ilka was a diplomat, a representative of her government—and, more than that, she was a Ferengi female, who was going to have to prove herself again and again for the whole of her life. Ilka was always going to be the first one through. She was always going to be the one people would watch, and if she ever made a mistake, they would say:
See? We knew females could not cope. We knew they were not smart or clever or able enough. We should not let more of them through. This one was enough.

Crusher stretched out her hand. Ilka hesitated for a moment, then smiled and took it.

“I wanted to say that you’re going with my warmest wishes,” Crusher said. “Best of luck for the future.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I’m glad that you of all people are able to understand.” Ilka grasped Crusher’s hand between both of hers. “Go safely.”

She gave her brilliant smile and left. Crusher, returning to Jeyn’s suite, thought,
I
do
understand why
you had to do this, Ilka. But how could you bring yourself to argue a case that you didn’t believe?

Picard said softly, “It’s a doctor’s privilege to serve a higher purpose. Soldiers and diplomats—we serve imperfect masters of imperfect worlds. But we strive toward the good. Don’t judge us too harshly, Beverly.”

11

FROM:
Civilian Freighter
Inzitran,
flagship, Merchant Fleet 9

TO:
Ementar Vik Tov-A, senior designated speaker, Active Affairs, Department of the Outside

STATUS:
Estimated time to border: 12 skyturns
Estimated time to destination: 17 skyturns

FROM:
Captain Ezri Dax
, U.S.S. Aventine

TO:
Admiral Leonard Akaar, Starfleet Command

STATUS OF TZENKETHI FLEET:
ETA at Venetan border: 6 days
ETA at Outpost V-4: 8 days

I
f the voyagers had been enthralled at the news that two lowly Ret-Es had sought an audience with the Mak enforcers, it was nothing compared to the news that the Ter Hertome had been called to answer to an Ap-Rej for charges made by his inferiors. Again, Efheny found herself uncomfortably at the center of attention. Any operative balked at being the object of so much interest, and she could only hope that this brief period in the limelight would be over before she had to make her getaway.

Barely a quarter of a skyturn had passed since she and Corazame had seen Inzegil. Now they made their way again through the dividing doors and were brought to the enforcer’s room. Entering, their heads bowed and making appropriate gestures, Efheny was startled to see that Inzegil was standing on the inferior deck rather than positioned above their heads as on the previous occasion. She was still taller than them both, and her shimmering skin, her dark uniform, and the sleek weapon at her hip reinforced her authority over them. Over Hertome too, Efheny hoped.

“Enter,” said Inzegil. “Do not kneel.” She gestured to one side of the room. “You may sit there. You are granted permission to listen to the conversation between two superiors that will soon be happening in this room.”

They went over to the corner that Inzegil had indicated and curled up their legs beneath them. Inzegil strode across the room and up to the anterior deck, taking her position there once again.

“Bring in Hertome Ter Ata-C,” she ordered an unseen server.

The door opened, and Hertome entered. As another Ter, empowered to give orders, he was not required to kneel in Inzegil’s presence. Instead, he signaled his inferiority in functional echelon and genetic grading from his stance and his dimmed skin tones. He stood with his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back. Efheny had never seen him so humble. She wondered how long the erratic human behind Hertome’s face could keep this up.

At Inzegil’s command, Hertome gave his version of the story: that the Ret Mayazan had been the one to approach him, and that he had repeatedly tried to regulate her behavior and guide her back to a proper course. He regretted his failure in this respect and offered his humble apologies to Inzegil.

When he was done, Inzegil walked a few steps toward him along the anterior deck. Efheny held her breath. Both stories were a pack of lies, of course, but which of them was the enforcer going to believe?

“I have listened to all your accounts with interest,” Inzegil said. “And, of course, I consulted psychometric test scores and work assessments for all three of you.” She gestured but did not look at Efheny and Corazame in their corner. “Both the Rets have performed their assigned tasks in exemplary fashion,” she said, “no more and no less. They show a clear understanding of the nature and limits of their function. But in your file, Hertome, I see occasional but worrying notes
from your superiors about your overassertiveness. You will not be aware that on one occasion you were very close to being recalibrated down a grade.”

This came as no surprise to Efheny.
Humans,
she thought.
Unreliable. Not suited for this kind of work.

“Only the efficiency of your unit prevented this happening,” Inzegil said. “You may show them gratitude for their loyalty.”

Hertome obeyed, giving Efheny a cold stare as he did so.

“Even if your story were true, Hertome,” Inzegil continued, “then at the first approach from the Ret Mayazan, you should have recommended her for monitoring and perhaps even reconditioning. At the very least, you should have ensured her redeployment from your unit, to prevent her coming into daily contact with you and allowing her childish fantasies to flourish.” She moved farther around the anterior deck until she loomed over him. “And if you were uncertain as to whether you were within your authority to instruct her, you should have consulted a superior. That is why you have superiors. You are not equipped to make such decisions alone, and you are not expected to make such decisions alone.”

She altered her stance to something more formal. She was about to give judgment.

“I am not inclined to believe your story, Hertome,” she said. “That concerns me deeply, since it means that you have lied to me. If I could prove this, I would be empowered to decommission you immediately. Here
and now.” She touched the weapon at her hip. “But since your files show that you have been a hard worker and so in your own way have served our Rej, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. Here are your instructions, Hertome Ter Ata-C. At the next stop, you will leave this voyage. You will be met and escorted from there to commence fifty skyturns of reconditioning. That should be sufficient to remind you of the limits of your authority and the proper nature of your functions. I will not recommend any recalibration, but you should bear in mind that your C grade now carries a query alongside it. What do you have to say?”

Hertome, his voice very low, said, “This one must thank his Ap-Rej for reminding him of his functions and providing him with an opportunity to correct his faults. May he assure his Ap-Rej of his eagerness to begin the work necessary to improve him?”

“I hope so. You may go, Hertome. Return to your cabin and remain there until we reach our next port of call.” Inzegil turned away and walked to the superior deck, where she sat at her desk, high above her three inferiors.

Hertome, turning to leave the room, caught Efheny’s eye. “You’ve killed me,” he called across to her from the safety of his audio-disruption field. “I hope you’re happy.”

Efheny looked away from him, down at the floor of the inferior deck. When Hertome was gone, Inzegil’s voice floated down to Efheny and Corazame. “You too may go now. Turn your attention back to your immediate
duty of restoration. You should not think about this matter again.”

Gesturing their gratitude, the two Rets fled the room and back to their side of the ship. Partway there, Corazame gave a small scream. “Oh, Maymi! We’ve made a terrible mistake.”

For a moment Efheny thought that she meant something really serious, and then Corazame said, “Now we have to answer to Karenzen!”

The relief that she didn’t mean anything else, and of having avoided exposure, not to mention having defeated Hertome . . . suddenly Efheny burst out laughing. Corazame, also clearly relieved at having escaped the room, began to giggle too. They hurried back to the Ata quarters. Hertome was out of the way, and now all Efheny had to do was get past Corazame and make her way to the pickup point. And then . . .

And then to Cardassia.

Cardassia.
That dry world, with dry work waiting for her, so far away from this dazzling, mesmerizing, generous planet. She tried not to think about it. Instead she played her part as Mayazan and ran giggling back with Cory to their quarters, putting all thought of her imminent departure from Ab-Tzenketh out of her head.

•   •   •

When the Rets had gone, Inzegil Ter Mak-B turned her attention to the paperwork arising from the case. Opening her portable comm to file her report, she spoke quickly, informing her colleagues back
in the city that the case had been resolved and there was a dysfunctional Ata in need of collection. Her information was noted and logged, and two colleagues were assigned to his pickup. Next she put the necessary wheels in motion to ensure his subsequent reconditioning. Checking the logs at the various Re-Co camps on the north side of the city, she looked for one able to take an Ata of that one’s grade for fifty skyturns, and at such short notice. It wasn’t a lengthy period by any means, but it was of sufficient duration that she had to look slightly farther afield than usual to find a camp that could accommodate him and provide the necessary program. When this was secured, she closed the comm and reflected on the case.

BOOK: Star Trek: Brinkmanship
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