By Jack Elmlinger
_____
The
warm light of Cardassia’s sun shone brightly in the blue skies of Cardassia
Prime and down onto Vice-Admiral Tattok after the transporter beam dissipated
around him. He stood at the end of a small detachment of personnel in the
middle of a courtyard that led into an old chateau that had survived the
destruction brought down on the populace before the end of the war. Settled
outside the capital city and framed by an expansive countryside, the mansion
had been the provisional Cardassian government’s gift to Starfleet when they
decided to accept humanitarian support and protection from the United
Federation of Planets.
Standing beside him was his new administrative assistant who had rendezvoused
with the Veritas during the
voyage from Sanctuary. With long brown hair and a smile on her face, Commander
Amber Stone looked around them, and at the entrance to the chateau stood two
Federation Marines and an additional assortment of officers.
“It looks like we were expected,” Stone said.
“We did signal the Chateau from orbit, Commander,” Tattok said, walking
forward. As he approached them, the old Roylan noticed that his sister was
among the greeters.
“Ah, Admiral Tattok,” an older Human said, stretching out his arms, “it’s so
good to see you again. Welcome to Cardassia Prime.”
Seeing Rear-Admiral Stuart Tobiaston again after three years sent a shiver down
the little man’s spine. The last time that he had seen him, he had been under
investigation for the murder of a fellow officer, namely his former first
officer on the Camelot during
a Maquis raid. He also recognized his stalwart companion from that time,
Captain Dron Suder walking beside him.
“It's been a long time.”
“Please come in,” Tobiaston said, leading the way into the chateau, “we have
much to discuss.”
“My office would be a better forum for discussion,” Telka said, moving into
step beside her brother. From her manner, Tattok could tell that something was
the matter.
They continued walking from the main hall and up a flight of stairs to the
solarium. Apparently the previous owner of the chateau had been a fan of
Arthurian legends because it reminded him of Camelot, the legendary place of
rest and rule for King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. When they
entered the solarium, Tobiaston moved behind a desk at the center of the room
and sat down. Always a suspicious man, his flag captain moved to lean against
the glass window behind the admiral.
The 11th Fleet commander saw a replicator and without invitation, walked over
to it and placed an order for tea. After the teacup appeared before him, he
removed it from the panel and addressed Tobiaston. “Is there a reason for my
visit? Supplies from Deep Space Nine have been coming here and their dispersal
to Cardassian worlds hasn't been done. I'm waiting to hear an explanation,
gentlemen."
“Yes, of course, Admiral, but I need some assurances. Assurances that I must
pass on to Admiral Nechayev that command of the 11th Fleet is in the best of
hands,” the white-haired man said, picking up a PADD from his desktop. It
looked like it had been imported because it resembled something from the period
of Louis XIV back on Earth. “After recent months since the re-activation of
Empok Nor and the events since you took command, she and I have reason to
believe that you might be ill-qualified to handle this assignment.”
“I've always had her support. Maybe I need to contact her.”
“I’ve been assuring the admiral, sir,” an unidentified Rigelian captain said
from one side of the room, “that while Captain Natale has had some setbacks,
the reports coming from Sanctuary say that the fleet should be fully on-line by
winter.”
“So, then,” Tattok said, glaring at Tobiaston, “what kind of assurances are you
looking for?”
“An attempt,” Suder said with a sinister smile on his face, “was made on your
very life, Admiral Tattok, by your former chief of staff, a reputable member of
the Maquis terrorism group. He also, unless you forgot, attempted the
kidnapping of a three-star admiral from under the very eyes of your station
commander! These are not random setbacks, Admiral Tattok!” He calmed down before
continuing. “The escape of Rkasi Cen from Sanctuary has shown that there is a
level of incompetence that—”
“I don’t believe that the admiral needs a reminder of his failings, Captain
Suder,” the rear-admiral said, sharing his flag captain’s smile.
“Failures? What failures?”
“Yes,” Suder continued, ignoring Tobiaston’s false plea. “Because of the
post-traumatic stress disorder recorded by Doctor Running Deer and because of
the death of your family at the Battle of Wolf 359, I submit that you are unfit
for command of either the U.S.S. Veritas or
for command of the 11th Fleet. Of your own volition as fleet commander, you
should stand down and commit yourself to the course of psychiatric treatment
prescribed by Starfleet Medical.”
For a moment, Tattok considered Suder’s well-rehearsed speech and the captain
of the U.S.S. Menelaus,
Tobiaston’s Akira-class flagship, had many good points to make about how
he ran the fleet. He also didn’t want to believe that either Starfleet Command
or the C-in-C herself had instituted this witch hunt as a reason to replace him
as fleet commander—especially since his appointment had been approved by the
Federation Council and the President. It was supposed to be his last assignment
before he accepted retirement in a few years.
“I protest!” Telka said, stepping forward and knocking over a chair in front of
Tobiaston’s desk. “Admiral Tattok has performed his duties to the best of his
abi—"
“Such loyalty should be rewarded, Captain Telka,” Tobiaston said, “especially
to someone who’s loyalty falls to the familial. However, I believe that I share
Captain Suder’s concerns, Admiral Tattok. A psychiatric evaluation would be—”
“I'm already under the treatment of a counselor.”
“Oh, good, then let’s ask Mr. DeMarco what—”
“Your allegations are unfounded.” By now, the vice admiral had set down his tea
and held his head, almost as if he was ashamed.
“I don’t believe that Fleet Captain Galloway would agree with that, Admiral,”
Suder said.
“You are both addressing a senior officer,” Tattok said, lifting his head and
looking sternly at both of them. “Your concerns are also unjustified. I've
already talked to Nechayev."
Tobiaston sighed heavily and sat back in his chair, clapping his hands
together, angrily. “I implore you, to consider the safety of the men and women
under your command—”
“They aren't your concern, Admiral Tobiaston. I'm in command here, not
you.”
“Sir?”
“I placed Telka in charge here on Cardassia. You can explain to me what your presence is
here.” He stepped forward and took the tricorder off of his belt. Scanning both
of them, he saw the truth behind them. “Hmm… this is interesting.”
“How interesting, sir?” the Rigelian captain asked him.
“Interesting, Captain, because Tobiaston isn't who he says he is.”
Reaching out for Tobiaston’s right forearm, he pushed it and the image of the
rear-admiral disappeared around him. In his place was a Cardassian male wearing
Tobiaston’s uniform. Suder’s eyes widened at this revelation and he stepped
back, appalled.
“Se-Security!” the Betazoid shouted.
The door to the solarium had never been closed so a squad of Marines arrived
quickly to deal with the false Admiral Tobiaston.
“Is it true?” Telka asked him after Tattok put his tricorder away.
“The truth is how you want to see it.”
“Are you really seeing a counselor?”
“Over subspace, I've been conferring with Roijiana. DeMarco,” he said, watching
Suder leave, “I believe to be Suder's puppet.”
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