Corbin Entek’s third trip to the Obsidian Order’s public headquarters proceeded in much the same manner as his first two. He approached the sixty-story building in the cul-de-sac—the renovations had just been completed the month before—and was told by the receptionist to report to Room 2552. Entek wondered briefly if this meant he was not going to see Tain—with the added floors, 2552 was no longer at the building’s epicenter—but apparently Tain liked the office for some reason.
This time a thin, white-haired man sat at the reception desk. He activated his comm unit and said, “He’s arrived.”
Tain’s voice once again sounded over the intercom. “Send him in.”
Tain’s viewer now showed a tactical map of the quadrant. It distressed Entek to see how small Cardassia’s territory—marked in yellow on the galactic map—was in relation to such other local powers as the Breen Confederacy, the Tholian Assembly, the Klingon and Romulan Empires, and most especially the United Federation of Planets.
“Greetings, Entek!” As always, Tain sounded like a grandfather saying hello to a child not visited in months. “Please, have a seat.”
Entek did so, hoping that the similarities to the previous two trips would remain intact. He had no desire to get on Tain’s bad side, not when his career had been going so well. Especially after he was able to handle Khitomer so deftly—though that was with some unknowing help from the Klingons themselves …
“You are no doubt aware that the Klingons have ceded Raknal V to us and allowed Cardassians back inside their borders. We have done the same for their people—which,” he added with a smile, “is probably the only drawback to the whole thing.”
Although he did not find the comment especially humorous, Entek was sensible enough to return the smile.
“Negotiations to restore that silly pile of wreckage to them have commenced. And we owe it all to you. I doubt we’d be at this point if the Romulans hadn’t obligingly attacked Khitomer when they did. Your manufactured ‘confession’ played right into the Romulans’ paranoid hands.”
Manufactured? “To give credit where it is due, sir,” Entek said respectfully, “it was the operative you assigned to leak the confession to the Tal Shiar who fed the paranoia. He did good work in convincing the Romulans of its veracity. I simply provided the documentation.”
“True, but the documentation itself was an exquisite piece of work.”
Entek smiled. He doesn’t know. For a moment, he debated not telling Tain—but no, if the head of the Obsidian Order learned that Entek held back such information, it could damage Entek’s chances. His career was at too important a turning point right now for him to take that risk, especially since the usefulness of the intelligence had now passed. “For that, you must credit the Klingon we captured. After all, he only spoke the truth.”
Tain’s mouth actually fell open at that. It took all of Entek’s training to keep the look of joy off his face. I have actually surprised Enabran Tain! “You didn’t know?” Entek asked innocently.
To his credit, Tain composed himself quickly. “I had simply assumed that the confession was false.”
“Not at all. However,” he added before Tain could react further, “it was an isolated incident.”
Frowning, Tain said, “Explain.”
“The Klingon Empire has no intention of developing biogenic weapons. Leaving aside their cultural biases, they have no interest in violating interstellar treaties.” He allowed himself a small smile. “But the Klingon Empire wasn’t developing those weapons on Khitomer—Chancellor Kravokh was, without the knowledge of the High Council or anyone else aside from the development team. I don’t think their Imperial Intelligence even knew of it. Aside from Kravokh, all those associated with the project were either members of the House of Kultan or loyal to it—that House has produced several prominent Klingon scientists.”
“Yes, I’ve seen the reports regarding that House. You suspect Kravokh intended to use that weapon against us?”
Entek nodded. “Oh, the prisoner said as much, though I did not include that in the recording that the Tal Shiar received, nor that the operation wasn’t sanctioned by the High Council. Your man provided a forger who did fine editing work that kept the recording seeming authentic. However, all evidence of the research—and all those who knew of it—are quite dead. The only ones who weren’t on Khitomer were my prisoner and Kravokh himself.”
Tain nodded several times—so much so that Entek wondered if the older man’s head would fall off. “That makes what you’ve done that much more important, my friend. You may well have saved us all from the actions of a madman by setting his assassination in motion.”
Deciding not to point out that Kravokh’s death was not, strictly speaking, an assassination, Entek instead simply said, “I merely serve Cardassia.”
“And your own desire for promotion, of course.” Entek was about to object, but Tain held up a hand. “Now now, it’s only to be expected. And besides, the two aren’t mutually exclusive goals. In fact, as long as they remain that way, you should do quite well. That’s why I’ve decided to reward your efforts by putting you in charge of Order operations on Bajor.”
Now it was Tain’s turn to surprise Entek. He had all but given up hope of getting the Bajor assignment after so many years of frustration.
“We have learned that Central Command plans to build a space station in orbit around Bajor. It’s still awaiting a final vote, but I’m confident that Legate Kell will get the support he needs for it. While it will do much to streamline the uridium processing, it will also serve as a very nice orbital target for that tiresome resistance movement. I want an Order agent who can get things done in charge over there, before that resistance gets out of hand. Central Command’s efforts to curtail them could charitably be called poor.”
“I agree,” Entek said, “and I’m sure that you will find my efforts to be beneficial to Cardassia.”
Tain smiled. “Good.” He handed Entek a padd. “This contains a list of your staff. Feel free to make any amendments to the team that you feel are necessary.”
Happily, Entek took the padd. At last, a supervisor, and in the assignment I have longed for.
For the third time, Corbin Entek left Enabran Tain’s office with his life and his career intact. This he considered a sign of skill and success in his chosen field. He felt confident in his ability to continue that success.
* * *
It had been many years since Legate Zarin had been invited to Legate Kell’s office on Cardassia. The view from the picture window in the north wall was, if anything, more impressive, as this section of the capital city had been built up quite a bit over the past few years. The spoils of conquest, he thought. Cardassia was strong, and growing stronger every day.
To Zarin’s relief, Kell had apparently gotten over his Lissepian phase. The paintings that now decorated the west wall were primarily Bajoran. In addition to making fine laborers, Bajorans drew very pretty pictures. Perhaps when I take over this office, Zarin thought wistfully, I will keep the artwork.
Kell’s old urall-skin couch had long since been replaced by a much more comfortable one made of keres hide from Chin’toka VI. Zarin sat on it now, with Kell sitting in the same conformer chair he’d had for over twenty years.
Holding up his glass of kanar in toast, Kell said, “To victory over the Klingons.”
“To victory.”
After gulping down his kanar in as boorish a manner as Zarin would have expected from him, Kell set down the glass. “Of course, that victory was a long time coming. Longer than it should have been.”
Zarin didn’t like the sound of that.
Kell smiled. “Don’t look so concerned, Zarin. I know you and Monor did your best. And Raknal V will make a fine addition to the Cardassian Union. Such a pity that all your efforts went to waste.”
“We did all that we could within Ambassador Dax’s constraints to—”
“That’s not what I’m referring to, Legate. And you know it.” Kell leaned on the table that sat between them and tossed a padd at Zarin. The younger legate frowned as he keyed the display. It showed a transcript of a conversation Zarin had with Monor regarding the sabotage of the communications systems on the Klingon vessel Chut. Thanks to the catastrophe on the Gratok, the sabotage wound up having a somewhat different effect—to wit, preventing the Chut from hearing the panic signal—from what was intended, though the end result of killing the entire complement of the Chut was the same.
“What of it?” Zarin asked. “You told Monor and me to do whatever it took to ensure that we secured our claim to Raknal V.”
Kell stood up. “Legate Zarin, I am appalled! Do you truly believe that I would authorize actions that would lead to the deaths of a hundred Klingons?”
Staring coldly up at Kell, Zarin said, “Yes, I do believe that you would.”
Laughing, Kell sat back down. “Perhaps, but I’m not the one on the transcript—which, by the way, is also in the hands of the Obsidian Order.”
Zarin wondered if it was the Order who provided Kell with the transcript or the other way around. The fact that Kell was nonspecific led Zarin to think it was the former. Kell would never admit to being beholden to the Order for anything.
“What is it you want, Kell? Obviously, you don’t intend to release this publicly.”
“Why would I release it publicly?” Kell finished off his kanar. “Much better, I think, to release it to the Klingons. I’m sure the descendants of the Chut victims would love to know who was responsible for their deaths.”
Rolling his eyes, Zarin said, “You haven’t answered my question, Kell.” These threats were pointless. If Kell wanted Zarin humiliated or dead, the padd would be in the hands of the Detapa Council or the Klingons already.
“You opposed the construction of Terok Nor over Bajor, and convinced several other legates to join that opposition. You will change your position. We need Terok Nor to facilitate the uridium processing.”
Zarin was about to point out what a colossal waste of money constructing an orbital station would be—but there was no point. Kell had already heard these arguments when the subject was debated. If Zarin couldn’t convince him then, he wouldn’t convince him now—especially when Kell had blackmail material.
After several moments, Zarin finally answered. “I cannot guarantee that all the legates who supported my nay vote will switch.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Zarin, just the fact that you have switched your vote will be more than sufficient to convince enough of them.” Kell stood up. “Now get out of my office. And Zarin?”
Zarin stood up. “Yes?”
Kell indicated the picture window. “Don’t get used to that view. You won’t be taking over this office for a long time yet.”
We’ll see, Zarin thought angrily as he left.