“Diplomacy is as much a sport as springball. Only the stakes are higher.”

Jas tapped the intercom unit on his desk. “Tomo, get in here. And bring some dekatea.”

Kubus sniffed. “I thought we could discuss this alone.”

“Lonnic’s viewpoint is the sharpest I know,” Jas countered. “That’s what I employ her for.”

“As you wish.”

Jas wanted Lonnic in the room for support. His sleepless night had left him with worry gnawing at the pit of his stomach, the ghost of self-doubt clinging to him. Had he made a mistake bringing the Cardassians to Korto? Deep down, Jas knew he wasn’t the minister his father had been; perhaps this time his reach had exceeded his grasp.

Lonnic entered, followed by a servant who laid out a tray of steaming dekatea before leaving them to their conversation. Kubus inclined his head in greeting, and Lonnic returned the gesture. She had her padd in her hand, her fingers poised to string notes into the touch-sensitive surface of the electronic slate.

“I have to confess, I was a little surprised by your reaction at the reception, Holza.” Kubus helped himself to a generous cup of the tea. “Your response to the Cardassians was more conservative than I had expected. Gul Kell practically offered us a trade agreement, but you were less than enthusiastic.”

“I’m merely being cautious,” Jas replied, taking a cup for himself.

“Ah, caution, is that it? And yet you were not so unadventurous before, when you boldly offered to host the alien delegation here. I did enjoy that speech you gave at the Gratitude Festival.” Kubus smiled thinly. “Why the change of heart? Are you out of your depth, Holza? Have you decided to join Verin’s reactionaries?”

“‘The fool plants where he wishes,’” quoted Lonnic, “‘the wise man sees where the sun falls first.’”

Kubus snorted. “A country homily, how quaint. So Jas is the wise man, then? I’m pleased to hear it. I would hate to find myself in partnership with someone who lacked the wisdom to pursue opportunity.”

Jas raised an eyebrow. “We’re partners, Oak? When did that happen?”

“When the Cardassians came, my friend. You and I are in this together.” Kubus patted the chair. “Here, on this side of the river we sit with opportunity in our laps, and over there”—he gestured to the east, in the direction of the capital—“in Ashalla, there are old men of limited vision who will waste this chance if we let them. I want to make sure you know that, Holza.”

Lonnic sipped at her tea and watched the interplay between the two ministers, gauging the reactions and the thoughts behind her employer’s face. In the five years she had been Jas Holza’s adjutant, she had come to know the man well—even intimately, for a time, before he had succeeded his father into the hereditary office of minister for Korto—and she could read the emotions behind his politician’s façade. Undoubtedly there was merit in Kubus’s words, but like Darrah, Lonnic couldn’t shake an elemental dislike of the man. His manner was high-handed and superior; Kubus was rich and well traveled, spending more time at his holdings on the colonies than on Bajor itself, and he affected a smugly cosmopolitan attitude as if he were more worldly than those who did not venture offplanet. But then again, Jas had several political allies whom Lonnic found quite distasteful in person. Expedience often meant dealing with those one considered objectionable.

What made the matter worse was that Kubus was right: the Cardassians did represent a unique prospect for Bajor. But then again, so did the overtures from the representatives of the United Federation of Planets, and a dozen other smaller planetary governments. Just because the Cardassians had come to Bajor, right to their doorstep, was not a valid reason to welcome them with open arms. Perhaps it was xenophobic of her to think it, but there was something about the manner of the gray-faced aliens that made her feel uncomfortable to be in the same room with them. She sipped another mouthful of tea and listened.

“Let’s look at this from a pragmatic point of view,” Kubus was saying. “Suppose we open the gates to an alliance between Bajor and the Cardassian Union. The possibilities for trade alone are huge. Their technology could help our people advance in leaps and bounds.” He waggled his finger at Jas. “I saw the glint in your eyes when Kell spoke about faster warp drives and better starships. And think of what else they have that we don’t. Medicines, advanced energy sources, knowledge of the greater galaxy around us. Will Bajor thank us for turning down the chance to have those things?”

“And such trade, if it took place, would be facilitated through certain channels?” Jas asked. “The Kubus clan’s shipping line, for example?”

The other man nodded. “In association with the Jas clan’s concerns, of course. After all, if we are the men who bring this bounty to Bajor, is it not right that we take some reward from it?”

“You mean beyond improving the quality of life for our people?” Lonnic asked.

Kubus shot her a look. “I won’t deny that I see this as a way to better my own lot, and that of my clan. And you should do the same, Holza.” A note of reproach entered his voice. “After all, you have responsibilities to the district of Korto and your people. I think I would be correct in saying that your current circumstances could stand to be improved, yes?”

“What are you implying?” The mood in the room cooled rapidly.

“I’m not in the business of making implications, Minister,” continued Kubus. “I prefer to deal in facts.” He put down his cup and leaned forward intently. “Let us be honest, Holza. Your position in the Chamber of Ministers is not what it once was. Verin and his cronies have done what they can to take advantage of your recent misfortunes and diminish the stature of your office.”

Lonnic saw a nerve twitch in Jas’s jaw. It was an open secret that the First Minister was quietly scornful of Jas’s political prowess and saw him as a poor shadow of his father.

Kubus continued. “I know you nurse the hope to one day stand for election to Verin’s post, but for now that goal moves further away from you with each passing moment.” He paused, taking a breath. “But if you were to take a leading place in assembling an agreement with the Cardassians, the political capital you would gain would strengthen your position. You could rise to the front rank again.”

“My only interest is to do what is right for Bajor,” Jas replied carefully. “My rank, and Verin’s view of it, are secondary to that.”

“And how will you do that if you are insolvent and powerless, Holza? Remember, I know about your meeting in Batal. I know about the problems that you face.”

For the briefest of instants, Lonnic saw something like shock on the minister’s face before he shuttered it away, composing himself. She felt her blood run cold. Jas had yet to explain to her the reason for his sudden and secretive trip across the equator to the city of Batal. For several months now she had been aware that he was keeping something from her. At first she thought it might be an illicit assignation—it wouldn’t have been the first time Jas had taken an interest in another man’s wife—but the minister’s increasingly grim manner after each jaunt gave her cause for concern. Now she read a degree of the truth in Jas’s face, and it chilled her.

Kubus watched her and suppressed a smirk. “You haven’t even told your adjutant? Perhaps you were trying to protect her from any future consequences?”

“Sir,” Lonnic said, “what is he talking about?”

“I’m talking about Golana,” said Kubus. “The bold colonial endeavor funded by your clan, far from home and far from stable.”

Jas met her gaze. “There have been some serious issues at the colony, Tomo,” he explained. “The situation there has…deteriorated.”