“Of course you did.”
“We took a few losses, naturally. Anything worth having can be expected to run into a few setbacks here and there.” He extended his hand, palm up, and then, not quite knowing what else to do with it, he clenched it into a fist. “Central Command must have agreed with the civilian government to consent to this decision.”
Kell opened his mouth as if to reply, but Dukat spoke over him; he did not care to hear the legate’s excuses for the weakening of Central Command. The military was hemorrhaging power, and it was partly the fault of officials like Kell who were foolish enough to submit in the first place. This turn of events had been set in motion a long time ago. “It is…disappointing that some of my colleagues cannot envision the long-term results of their actions.” His fist tightened. Someday, he would set things right—with the traitors in the civilian government, and with those in Central Command, as well. He knew exactly who was to blame for this, the loss of his legacy.
“The Cardassian people…have no faith in me,” he went on. “They never did. Central Command had none, either. And yet, if they would only review the records of my term here, they would see that the very few times I was able to make use of my own policies, the Union enjoyed measurable success here. But when I followed the dictates of Central Command”—his voice was rising—“I failed. I failed, because I allowed others to coerce me into ignoring my own instincts.”
Kell suddenly looked very tired. “There is little sense in speaking of it now,”he said, his tone flat. “This is not about you, Dukat. I am contacting you merely as a formality. I anticipate the Federation will send its Starfleet soon. I assume you already know what must be done.”
“This isabout me!” Dukat shouted. “Bajor is about me, don’t you understand that? If you weren’t so busy pandering to the fools in the Detapa Council—Central Command is but a shadow of its former self, can’t you see that, Kell? Because of weak men like you!”
Kell scoffed and shook his head at the outburst. “I understand how difficult it must be for you to confront your own failure,”he said with a barely suppressed sneer. “But there is still much for you to do, and little time to do it.”
“Yes…sir,” Dukat said, carefully dialing back his hostility. He could not afford to make a fool of himself any more than he had already done, and Kell still had the power to ruin him completely—if the loss of Bajor hadn’t already done it.
Dukat stood alone in his office for a few moments after the transmission ended. His arm had fallen to his side, but his hand was still closed into a hard fist. Slowly, he uncurled his fingers, examining his palm as if seeing it for the first time. He felt slightly dazed, but he knew he could not afford to succumb to his emotions; there was much to be done, as Kell had said, and he was the one expected to do it. There were no more Cardassians on the surface; at least, none who were authorized to be there. Now he must remove the rest of his men from Terok Nor.
He put in a call to Dalin Trakad, speaking as soon as the dull-faced officer stepped into his office. “Get all the Bajorans out of ore processing and get them to the surface immediately,” he commanded.
“Sir…how am I to arrange for the transport of so many people?”
“I don’t care,” Dukat snapped. “Put them in the cargo hold of a freighter for all I care, just get them out of here. Drop them at the closest transport hub on the surface and call it done. Get them out of here before they start rioting.”
“Some of them…already have, sir.”
“All the more reason to be swift in carrying out my instructions, Trakad.”
The dalin nodded. “Yes, sir. But…I don’t know if you’re aware that some of the soldiers…they have also started to destroy station property…”
“Have they,” Dukat mused. “Well, I advise you to keep out of their way, then. But I want you to personally ensure that all systems are permanently offline before we go. Leave nothing for the scavengers that will come after us. Purge all databases. Every system—replicators, weapons, ore-processing equipment, turbolifts—do your best to see that they are no longer functional by the time we leave. If all else fails, old-fashioned sabotage will suffice. Keep life support up, of course. For the time being.”
The dalin was surprised. “There is very little time, sir. It may not be possible to completely—”
Dukat ignored him. “Start arranging for the transfer of first-tier military officials; all higher-echelon officers will be transported back to Cardassia Prime immediately. The rest are to follow until evacuation is complete, but I want all our people gone within three days. Understood?”
“What about…what about the tailor, sir?”
“He can fend for himself,” Dukat snapped. Kell had made it clear enough that the disgraced operative was to be left alone; this might actually be the first time Dukat was happy to comply with the legate’s order. “Carry out my intructions,” he told Trakad.
“Yes, sir.”
Dukat turned to go, but his thoughts quickly turned to the shape-shifter. “Contact Odo for me, Trakad.”
Where Trakad had previously looked bewildered, now he looked fearful. “The…shape-shifter is…Nobody can find him. He seems to be…gone.”
“Gone?”
“He…hasn’t been seen since yesterday, and rumors have already sprouted that he fled…back to Bajor.”
Dukat felt a momentary weakness in his limbs. Odo might not have gone back to Bajor; he could very well still be here, but if he was not answering station calls…After everything else—the treachery of the Detapa Council, the long-term flagrant disregard for his authority by the ingrates on this horrid world—the notion of Odo’s disloyalty was very nearly the thing to send Dukat into a state of complete anomie.
He swept his gaze across the surfaces of his office—the eye-shaped window, framing starry blackness; the walls, his desk, the floor and ceiling. Every last fraction of it had been designed and created specifically for him, as the prefect of this world. But now—the thought of leaving Terok Nor whole and intact for Bajorans to infest like voles was repugnant to him. He doubted they would destroy it outright; without orbital facilities of their own, they might have need of such a place. Better to obliterate it himself than leave his seat of power for lo these many years to such as them.
But no, Dukat decided. Terok Nor would remain here, under the authority of whoever came along to claim the Bajoran prize for themselves, and it was looking more and more as though the Federation was going to be the unlikely victor in this comic tragedy.
Would the shape-shifter ally himself with the Bajorans? Dukat thought not; the man was a complete enigma in many ways, but the thing that defined him most was his status as an outsider. He could continue to search for his own kind…which meant that he would likely remain on the station, to fraternize with the democratic hypocrites of the Federation.
Dukat turned off the lights in his office. The Union had just made an enormous mistake, and Dukat had no intention of ever forgetting it. He was leaving, but this would not be the last he had seen of Bajor. His business here was far from finished. No, if he thought for an instant that he would never see Terok Nor again, he would have it destroyed with the Bajorans still aboard. But this was not over. Not nearly.
The people in the Valo system had been chattering about a possible withdrawal for a long time. Ever since the Federation ship that carried Ro Laren had come and gone, a great deal of gossip had circled around the colony world. When Jas Holza had finally agreed to purchase and deliver weapons to the people of Bajor, the residents of the Valo system had begun to speak of the coming withdrawal as fact, though Keeve had been afraid to really believe it. But as more reports poured in, and people arranged for transport back to Bajor, Keeve finally had to acknowledge to himself that it was not just a rumor, not a Cardassian trick—the occupation was over.