by Diane Carey
"Captain, I'm a little busy at the moment, so whatever you have to say, make it brief."
"Dukat? I was trying to reach someone in the new civilian government."
Gul Dukat. A pompous, sanctimonious example of the sons of Cardassia. There were many like him. As proud as he was of himself, he was nothing unique.
Had he not been so nervous, his pomposity would have served better. For now, it was only a thin veil against the worry that kept sliding through in his face and voice as he spoke to Ben Sisko on the office monitor. Dukat was scared.
"And you succeeded," the Cardassian said. "You're speaking to the new chief military advisor to the Detepa Council."
"Does that mean you've turned your back on the Central Command?" Sisko asked.
"It means that as a loyal officer of the Cardassian military, I'm pledged to serve the legitimate ruling body of the Empire. Whoever that may be."
He hated it. The strain of his position came across clearly even through the tiny monitor.
"In other words," Captain Sisko measured, "you saw which way the wind was blowing and switched sides."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Once Dukat had been embarrassed enough for the moment, Sisko shifted attitude.
"You've got to get those council members to safety, Dukat," he said, "before the Klingons reach Cardassia."
Dukat's manner changed very slightly—enough to show that he might actually be relieved to find someone willing to cross channels in his favor and for the sake of those who were being flagrantly attacked.
"I'm open to suggestions."
"If you can get a ship," Sisko instructed, "meet me at…these coordinates." He punched a set of numbers into his keypad. "I'll do what I can to escort you out of the war zone."
Dukat's attitude also changed yet again—not only was Sisko willing to warn him, but willing to risk his life, his crew, his own ship in order to help. No one could go untouched from that kind of sacrifice when it was so uncalled for.
"That's a very generous offer, Captain," the Cardassian said without the salt of irony in his voice that had been there a moment ago. "I must say, I'm touched. By saving the members of the Detepa Council, you'll be saving—"
"Forget the speech, Dukat. Just meet me at the rendezvous."
"And if the Klingons try to stop us?"
"Then I'll be there to reason with them. I doubt the Klingons will fire on a Federation ship."
"I'm not sure I share your optimism. But then, I don't have much of a choice, do I? We'll meet you there."
From the place where he had stood aside, out of the scope of the return-feed camera, Worf, still Lieutenant Commander, Starfleet, looked now at Ben Sisko and understood what Dukat must reluctantly be feeling. Relief, and certainly gratitude for having the choice made.
Yet there was the prickling doubt that had remained without voice until now, the knowledge that his own people were not easily frightened, and had avoided conflict with Starfleet until now.
As Sisko turned to him, Worf said, "Sir, if the Klingons are right… if the Cardassian government has been taken over by the Founders…"
"Then we'll be helping them escape," Sisko finished for him. "That's a chance we'll have to take. Report to the Defiant, Commander. I know you want to get out of that uniform, but right now I need you with me."
A ship. Not a starship, not a merchant ship—a warready battleship. And all the time it had been right here, without his giving it a single thought.
Energy pulsed through his veins and his great heart pounded. He had a ship again!
CHAPTER 16
AH, THIS OLD corridor. So many decades, so many changes.
Now a new change, and in the midst of it, yet another new change. Revolution, and now war.
Evacuate the council. Relatively simple.
And the corridor still smelled. Something about the original design of the plumbing. After the first half century, no one wanted to fix the smell, because it had become part of the mystique of the place.
Dukat strolled here with more ease than he had expected. After all, his faction was no longer in power, yet somehow he had survived and been given a new title. He didn't really understand why, but this was not one of those things a soldier questions. Civilian though the new council was, they still had to have a military, and though the new government had purged the military leaders, somehow Dukat was still here.
He would continue doing his job as best he saw it until someone decided to purge him also.
Pausing at the council chamber door, he glanced behind him at his aide and said, "Back me up, Yelu. The ship is ready. All we have to do is clear immediate space and we should be able to rendezvous with Sisko in relative safety. You'll have to hurry these elites along. They're not soldiers. No discipline, you know."
"I understand, Gul Dukat," Yelu said.
Without knocking, Dukat opened the old-fashioned chamber door and strode in.
Under the high ceiling of the ancient council chamber, with its walls draped in tattered but traditional tapestries, the members of the new Detepa Council looked up and were startled at the interruption of their bureaucrating.
There were eleven of them. Dukat knew most of their names, but that wasn't significant. As Yelu took position behind him, Dukat stationed himself somewhere near the middle of the long conference table.
"Councilmen, forgive me for having to interrupt your business day, but there has been a surprise attack."
"An attack?" one of the councilmen blurted. "Where? Here in the capital?"
"No, in space."
"When?"
"Only minutes ago. At the moment, we're not doing very well. There is a significant battle going on near the outer colonies."
"Who would have the nerve to attack us?" another councilman said.
Dukat patiently turned and gave the answer directly to the person who had asked it.
"A Klingon task force has invaded our space and is trying to get here to capture the planet. There is a chance that our ships may hold them off, but I must tell you that in the fervor of revolution you did happen to kill several of our best military commanders, whom you really should have left alive. Our forces, therefore, are strong in numbers, but weak in strategic ability and experience. As such, I am going to evacuate you from the planet and take you to a place of safety."
The councilmen were notably stunned, and they looked at each other in mute question, until finally one of them uttered, "Us?"
Meager, but enough to cause Dukat to continue talking.
"Yes, of course," he said. "As the governing council, you will be the Klingons' first targets. You will need a strong sanctuary. I have a ship waiting to take you into Federation jurisdiction, where you will stay until our home space can be stabilized. Gentlemen, we have to get you out."
They stopped looking at each other, and started gaping at him instead.
Then, sitting Chief Councilman Ewai spoke from his place at the head of the table.
"Have you been drinking, Dukat?"
Dukat's brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"
Ewai didn't stand up, but simply frowned and narrowed his eyes at him. "I have heard nothing of this Klingon invasion force. It's very silent, if it's happening."
"It's happening in space," Dukat said measuredly. "Sound, Councilman, does not travel through the vacuum of space."
Catching the insult squarely, Ewai glanced at a few of the others, then looked back at Dukat. "This is very strange…most curious, in fact. Wouldn't this be a perfect way for you and your people to get back in charge? You're going to rescue us, you take us away, and we simply disappear."
Taken aback, Dukat opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment was too astounded by such a suggestion to say anything. He paused, glanced at Yelu, who also appeared to have been cuffed, and finally turned to Ewai.
"You're right," he said. "It would be perfect. Unfortunately, I didn't think of it. Handing the government back to those who have lost it
once is simply not my plan."
Councilman Mera spoke up. "I don't believe him. He's part of the old order. I knew we should have done away with any vestige of them when we had the chance! Now the soldiers will follow him instead of us!"
"The soldiers," Dukat derided, "are out there, dying for you in space, trying to protect the homeworld! But at the moment, we don't think we can do it sufficiently. We need more time to stabilize our strength. In the meantime, I have no intention of letting Klingons capture the government of Cardassia. This way, even if Klingons take the homeworld, they still will not have us. I came here to keep the legitimate government out of their hands. Though I shiver to admit it, that legitimate government at the moment is you gentlemen."
"You're hanging yourself, Dukat," Councilman Pelor threatened, but without a threatening tone. He seemed nervous, not used to his own power yet.
"Fine," Dukat said. "The Federation is going to meet us and escort us out of our space. We'll have to set you up as a government in exile. That way, our people will have something to cling to, something to fight for. Certainly you, as revolutionaries, can understand that."
"Wait!" Councilman Gruner stood up sharply, his rounded stomach creating a platform from which his meeting robes hung. "We've been threatening and harassing the Federation for a decade, and they are coming to help us?"
Dukat shrugged. "I don't understand it myself, but that's the way they are."
The table erupted into bellows of argument and disbelief, disagreement and tension, until finally Ewai smashed his palm on the table four or five times and caused the others to fall quiet again.
When they did, he looked again at Dukat with that same glare of unveiled suspicion.
"So you, the weakened and recently overpowered military, just made a deal with the Federation, people we've been trying to wipe out for years, to protect the new council, whom the military hates. I see."
"You do not see!" Dukat bellowed, roiled with frustration at this turn. He genuinely had not expected this, but he couldn't help but comprehend some of it. If he were these people, he probably wouldn't believe himself.
"I agree with Ewai," one of the councilmen said. His name completely faded from Dukat's mind, but it didn't matter. "This would be a perfect way for Dukat and his lackeys to slip back into power!"
"Yes, it would be perfect," Dukat coached. "But that's not what I'm doing. If it were, I would've used this weapon on you already. The Klingons are lightyears closer in the time you have been resisting me, and I strongly suggest you get up out of those chairs before you find yourselves dead in them with Klingon blades embedded in your chests. Gentlemen, the doorway is over here—"
"Wait, wait," Councilman Pelor urged, holding his hands out in a complacent manner. "There must be some other way to confirm this."
"We don't have time to confirm it!" Yelu called out from behind Dukat.
They all looked at him briefly, then Dukat said, "He's quite correct. No time."
Councilman Mera ignored them. "Who could we get confirmation from, other than the military?"
"How do we even know there's a war going on out there?" Councilman Ewai persisted. "Because Dukat has told us?" He looked up at Dukat. "You could tell us there was a gigantic blue monster in orbit. None of us have any evidence whatever of a force massing on our borders. There hasn't been a single trader come in with that rumor."
"There hasn't been a single trader come in because no one has been able to get through." Dukat canted forward slightly as if scolding a child.
Councilman Locan spoke for the first time, saying, "Perhaps we could send someone out to view this war."
Dukat swung full about and glared at him. "There…isn't…time."
He had expected some resistance, but not this. After all, he himself had not been purged, so someone in this room must have been impressed enough with his record to trust him. Where was that trust now?
Did they want him to sit behind a desk and move the military about like toys on a model board?
Had they expected only that from him?
Civilians.
Ewai was gazing at him with unbridled suspicion when he turned back again.
"This could all be a grand charade," the chief councilman said. "A ruse to get us all into space on one ship. To scare us right off the planet, where we can be killed."
"The council disappears," Gruner added, "and the old guard walks into power."
"You killed the old guard!" Dukat scorned. "And I, quite honestly, do not want the job!"
Startled briefly by his outburst, the council fell silent again and gawked at him and each other.
After a moment, Pelor made another attempt. "Perhaps you could tell us…where you appropriated this information of an impending invasion by the Klingons?"
"I…had a source. Because he informed me of what was planned, I was able to prepare a ship in case a quick escape might turn out to be prudent."
"Tell us who your informant is."
"Well…"
"Tell us, Dukat," Ewai said, "or we stay here."
"Well, it…"
From behind Dukat, squeezed by the tension and anxiety of the moment, Yelu blurted, "It was Garak!"
Dukat squeezed one eye shut, and with the other glowered at his aide and the incredible size of the young soldier's mouth.
"Garak!" Ewai bawled.
"Garak?"
"Garak…"
"Garak."
As the name traveled the council chamber, Dukat felt himself becoming more and more shriveled and pointless with every syllable. He made a note to remind himself to have Yelu's tongue cut out as soon as the war was over.
"Yes," he submitted finally, "the first warning came from Garak. Yes, yes, yes. However, within the past hour I received a communiqué from Captain Sisko at Deep Space Nine, who informed me that the Klingon task force—"
"Garak…" Gruner impugned. "And Sisko."
"Gentlemen, please…"
"Go away, Dukat," Ewai said scornfully. "Save yourself while you can."
"Councilmen," Dukat persisted, "you must come with me."
"Yes," Pelor taunted. "We come with you, you declare martial law, drive away all contestants, and tell the people you have saved the planet from the Klingons. Once you're back in power, no one will ask what happened to us. I am not going."
"Nor am I."
"Nor I."
"Locan, call the guards."
Dukat leaned to Yelu. "Call my guards."
Ewai spoke louder. "If you're going to take us off the planet and kill us, then why should we leave? Don't inconvenience either of us, Dukat."
"Fine!" As Yelu touched the comm unit on his wrist, Dukat drew his disruptor and leveled it squarely at Ewai's face.
The councilmen indulged in a collective gasp as Dukat moved closer and took Ewai by the arm. By now, Yelu had his own rifle poised over the chamber.
"All right, this is enough," Dukat proclaimed. "True, I am not thrilled with you. But this government is going to survive if I have to kill you and stuff you and set you up on some planet as the legitimate, recognized government of Cardassia. You fought to be the heads of the government and that's what you're going to be. It's all yours now. When history is written, you were in charge when everything fell apart. And you're coming along to watch it all happen. The door is over there!"
Yelu pressed his cheek to the butt of his rifle and swung to cover them as the councilmen stared in shock. At the other end of the room Dukat kept the more ornery of those in the chamber in line until pounding footsteps in the old corridor signaled the approach of one set of guards or the other.
Would they be the council house guards? Or would they be Dukat's soldiers?
Hearing that sound, Councilman Ewai refused to move until he knew for sure that he had no choice.
The chamber was eerily silent, but for the tense breathing of the thirteen beings there.
The footsteps pounded nearer.
Dukat waited with rather less of a thumping hear
t than he had expected. He had waited for days upon days to be called before the council, questioned, and ultimately executed, but that had not happened, no matter how he prepared himself for it.
Yet, relief did wash through him as uniformed soldiers poured in the narrow, tall doorway and flocked along the oldest tapestry, their weapons shouldered because they had not yet been told at whom to aim.
"Now, Councilmen," Dukat announced when the shuffling and rushing settled down to a tense stillness, "I'm going to save you if I have to do it over your dead bodies. Yelu, you take one rank and go first. Weapons on full. Second rank, set your weapons on stun and aim them at the councilmen. If any fails to come with us, shoot him down and carry him to the ship. Councilmen, the door."
With one rank thumping in front, the councilmen shuffling in the center, and a second rank of soldiers thumping behind, Dukat put his own disruptor to Ewai's throat and pressed him forward.
The old halls had never seemed so large, so long, and so very imposing. Of course, he had never had to escape from them before.
Odd! With all that was going on in the open galaxy, here he was, escaping from Cardassia Prime!
The council guards had been summoned, and met them in the courtyard—weapons flaring.
"Return fire!" Yelu's voice carried rather well on the flat stone court.
So did the whine of weapons fire.
Dukat saw three of his soldiers go down, and four guards, in the opening round of crossfire.
"Keep them occupied," he ordered the nearest guard, then waved his disruptor and with that gesture herded the councilmen around the back of the huge old hall to the private launch area.
Anxious not to be caught in the snap and whine of crossfire, the councilmen ducked their heads and ran as they were bade.
"Into the ship!" Dukat called. "Quickly!"
Whether they accepted him at his word now that they actually saw that there was a ship and not a hanging post in this yard, Dukat could not tell and did not care. He pushed the last of them inside, then motioned his soldiers to go back and support the others. They had orders to break off and disperse as soon as the ship launched, so he would be doing them a favor by launching as quickly as he could manage.