But Worf had already risen from his chair and gone out the near door, his own aides trailing behind him.
Dax closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he contacted the bridge, and instructed the communications officer to put a private communication through to Ambassador Sarek on Vulcan.
It took about twenty minutes—during which time Dax had ordered a grakizhsalad from the food dispenser—for the call to go through. When it did, just as Dax popped the last of the yellow leaves from the salad into his mouth, the old-fashioned triangular viewscreen in the center of the briefing room table lit up with the somber image of Sarek of Vulcan, the garden of his house at ShiKahr visible through the picture window behind him. Dax hadn’t been to the house since shortly before his mentor’s marriage a year ago to a human woman—his third, and second to a human—and he noted that the plants seemed livelier and larger than they had in the past. Perchance his new wife has a green thumb.Dax hadn’t yet met Perrin, but as long as she made Sarek as happy as the late Amanda Grayson—whose company Dax had always enjoyed in his younger days as Sarek’s aide—then he knew he would like her.
“How go the negotiations, Curzon?”As usual, Sarek didn’t bother with unnecessary pleasantries.
“Not as well as I’d like, I’m afraid. Both sides are being predictably stubborn. I understand the Klingons’ position, but the Cardassians are genuinely baffled by it. I’m trying to be fair to them—after all, they think they have every right to Raknal V.”
“Perhaps. But you must be wary of being too accommodating to the Cardassians.”
Dax smiled. “Actually, I’m more worried about the opposite. My affinity for the Klingons is hardly a secret.”
“If there are any who are unaware of it, it is only because you have not had the opportunity to provide that information to them,”Sarek said dryly. “That sort of emotional attachment can be a detriment.”
“It’s served me well with the Klingons,” Dax said almost defensively. Damn you, Sarek, how is it you manage to make me feel like a twenty-year-old naïf even now?“In fact, I’d venture to say that our continued good relations with the Empire are due in no small part to that public affinity.”
“Which is why I have not discouraged the affinity in the past. However, in this instance, it may do you more harm than good.”
Smiling ruefully, Dax said, “Actually, I think my problem is the other way around—I’m overcompensating by being toonice to the Cardassians.”
“That would be a mistake. I have seen firsthand what Cardassians are capable of if they are given too much—niceness.”
Dax grinned. “I’ll just have to be more like you, then.”
“I have always felt that you could afford to incorporate more discipline into your personality. It is good to see that you are at last taking my advice.”
The grin widening, Dax said, “First time for everything.” He let out a breath. Just talking to the ambassador made him feel better. “Thank you, Sarek—I needed this.”
“I have done nothing.”
Dax shook his head. Only a Vulcan could go from arrogant to modest within two sentences—and make them both sound like simple statements of fact.“Well, thanks for nothing, then. Give my regards to Perrin.”
“I will do so.”
“When this mess is over, I’ll try to drop by and finally meet her. Looks like she’s done wonders with the garden.”
Sarek came infinitesmally close to a smile. “My wife has a great affinity for bringing out the best in living things.”
“That’s good to hear, old friend. Take care.”
As Sarek’s face faded from the screen, Dax thought back to the glow that surrounded Ian Troi at the reception last night. At the mention of Perrin and the garden, the same glow seemed to suffuse Sarek. Something about finding your life-mate that improves the disposition, obviously,Dax thought. Maybe I should try it again.
Of course, Curzon had never settled down with any single person, but many of the previous hosts of the Dax symbiont had done so, and found it most satisfying. But then there was Torias…
Dax banished the thought from his head. More than one fellow joined Trill had accused him of letting the memories of his last host have undue influence on the current one. Torias Dax had been married to Nilani Kahn for less than a year when a shuttle accident claimed the former’s life. Curzon still felt the pain of Torias’s death keenly, and some had said that Dax’s present inability to commit to any kind of long-term relationship was a psychological attempt to never again repeat what happened to Torias. Dax himself had always thought such accusations to be ridiculous. Curzon’s roving eye predated his joining—indeed, was the cause of more than one near-scandal during his time as an initiate. Bonding with the Dax symbiont simply did nothing to discourage that tendency.
Still, sometimes he thought he would like to have had that glow.
Shaking his head, he left the briefing room, determined to be more even-handed in his mediating. I will work out an agreement that won’t thrust this sector into a bloody war that neither side can win.
“So you’re telling me that the probe mayhave given you readings that mightbe indicative of something in the nebula and you want to test these possibilities by going in with a shuttle?”
Ian Troi tried to keep the look of disappointment off his face at Captain Haden’s words. Somehow, it sounded more promising the way he’d phrased it to Commander Garrett. He sat next to her in one of the two guest chairs in the tiny office off the bridge that was referred to as the “ready room,” an appellation that Troi had never understood. Well, that wasn’t fair—he’d never given it a second thought until he mentioned it to Lwaxana, who asked, “Ready for what?” Troi’s lack of an answer for that question prompted his then-fiancée to declare the term ridiculous, and she promised to use all her influence as a Daughter of the Fifth House to get it changed.
Of course, based on the evidence to date, all that being a Daughter of the Fifth House meant, really, was that they had been obligated to invite half of Betazed to their wedding…
Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he glanced up at Vaughn, who was standing against one of the walls, and who had asked to tag along to this meeting. “For what it’s worth, Captain, I think it warrants further investigation. Yes, it may be nothing, but I’d rather play it safe.”
Haden didn’t sound convinced. “There’s no such thing as playing it safe when we’ve got trigger-happy Cardassians and Klingons hanging off our bow. Li gave me the report from security on the meetings so far—most of it has involved shouting. Gul Monor and Captain Qaolin already objected to the probe, and now, with all this, you think I should risk pissing them off again for what may be a wild goose chase?”
Troi found his mouth moving before his brain had a chance to stop it. “Sir, have you ever encountered a wild goose?”
“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant?” Haden said, his wide brown eyes now boring a hole in Troi’s forehead.
Troi glanced quickly at Vaughn, whose expression was unreadable, and Garrett, who looked vaguely amused, then back at Haden. “A wild goose, sir,” Troi repeated. “Have you ever encountered one?”
“I have seen many things in all my years in Starfleet, Mr. Troi, but I must admit to never having come across a goose of any kind, wild or otherwise, that wasn’t part of a meal. I take it you have?”
“Yes, sir, once, in England as a boy. Geese can get very ill-tempered—even ones raised in captivity. This one wasn’t, and it was brutal. Wild geese are surly, quick to anger, quicker to violence, and can do an amazing amount of damage with their beaks. The one I, uh, dealt with took a good-sized chunk out of my thigh.”