Star Trek: Brinkmanship Read Online Free

Picard had evolved a system for working the room. Starting at opposite ends, they would move around the space in a figure eight, meeting briefly at the center to trade information, before moving on to the side of the room that the other had recently navigated.
    “Make sure you speak to the Ferengi diplomat,” Picard murmured, as they passed each other. “Madame Ilka. I think you’ll find her very interesting.”
    Madame, Crusher thought. Now that’s something I’ve not seen before. She glanced across the room to where a petite Ferengi female stood, twisting her fingers around the stem of her empty glass, observing the chattering guests with an air of distant amusement. Crusher extricated herself from her conversation with a junior member of the Cardassian team and began to move toward that end of the room. Picard, meanwhile, headed off in the direction of the lead Federation negotiator, Jeyn. Veterans of many similar missions together, they greeted each other with hail-fellow-well-met joviality.
    Halfway toward Ilka, Crusher realized that the Ferengi woman had spotted her and had turned her gentle amusement to Beverly’s nonchalant approach.
    At last, Ilka took pity and beckoned to her. “Doctor Crusher,” she called, “why don’t you join me in my corner?”
    Relieved to be able to abandon her futile attempt to sidle up discreetly on the other woman, Crusher grabbed two flutes of champagne and headed straight for her. Ilka took the proffered glass and sipped the liquid. She was middle-aged by Ferengi standards, with a higher than usual brow and perhaps slightly small earlobes. She wore a plain gray and silver dress, very elegant and conservative, that almost acted as camouflage against the ship’s bulkhead. It was an interestingfashion statement. Most of the Ferengi women one saw in public tended to opt for bright, almost garish, colors, with plenty of decoration, as if celebrating their new freedom to dress as they pleased. Ilka’s one concession to prevailing taste was a pair of long earrings. Crusher noted, however, that they did not join together at the bottom in the usual style. She liked this innovation. The old style had always faintly reminded her of chains.
    Ilka stared at her with huge, bright, intelligent eyes. “Have you met our new Cardassian colleague yet, Doctor?”
    “Detrek?” Crusher shook her head. “No, not yet. I believe she’s not yet come aboard.”
    “She is something of a mystery,” Ilka murmured.
    “I gather it was a last-minute decision to send her along. She may well still simply be receiving her brief.”
    “Perhaps.” Ilka took a sip of her drink. “Are you optimistic about the prospects of our mission, Doctor?”
    “Beverly, please.”
    “Beverly.”
    “Am I confident about our mission?” Crusher pondered the question. “I have to say that I have mixed feelings. The news that the Venette Convention was seeking closer ties with the Tzenkethi came completely out of the blue.”
    “For us, too,” Ilka said softly.
    “We had such close links with them in the past. We had hoped to be welcoming them into the Federation—”
    “But things change, and can change very quickly.”
    “They can indeed, Madame Ilka, but not always for the worst.”
    Ilka’s smile broadened. She had long white teeth, meticulously sharpened. “I would call that typical Federation optimism!”
    “And I would suggest that Ferenginar proves my point.”
    Ilka threw back her head and laughed, a frank, unforced laugh that warmed Crusher to the heart. She liked this small, clever Ferengi woman.
    “Go ahead!” Ilka said. “Ask me whatever you like!”
    “I wouldn’t dream of doing that,” Crusher said swiftly. “You must get tired of being treated as a specimen.”
    Ilka briefly closed her eyes, her gaiety changing in an instant into something closer to fatigue. She leaned toward Crusher and lowered her voice in confidence.
    “You know our history,” Ilka said. “As a girl I barely set