I don’t think Michael was at all intimidated by the prospect of
writing either for
See if you agree.
"Pax Libertas"
By Michael Gray
Luciano Mantovanni stared at the message in front of him uncertain
how to react. The war had been so hard
fought with too many losses for him to cheer as he suspected many in his crew
might. But he did let a smile momentarily
break his usually stoic features—not a smile of joy, but one of long sought
relief.
The Dominion War was over.
From the text on the display in front of him he found it hadn't
finished with a decisive battle or some daring strategy, but with a single realization
on the part of the Founders.
What a waste, he thought.
The second guessing would go on for decades about this. What if we had tried to find common ground
just a little bit more? What if we had
done this or that differently?
Mantovanni had seen enough in his life across two centuries to
convince him that some truths were hard to come by, especially truths hidden by
fear.
So the Founders finally accepted the Federation wasn't a threat.
Mantovanni forced down a chuckle.
And after all we went through to
convince them otherwise the last many months.
Now they come to this
conclusion?
He shook his head and leaned back looking about his ready
room. People would ask him where he'd
been and how he'd heard about the end of the war for years to come. Humans felt compelled to ask such questions
about shared events. It never made much
sense to Luciano Mantovanni, but the commanding officer of the
He focused on a more obvious question: Now what?
The door chime sounded, ending his contemplation.
"Enter," he said.
Erika Benteen strolled in with a wider grin than he'd ever seen
her wear. "You heard?" she
asked.
He nodded.
"I was about to inform the rest of the crew, but thought you
might want the honor of doing that," she said.
"I suppose I should tell them something," Mantovanni
replied.
"You disappointed?" Benteen asked with a frown.
He shook his head. "No, nothing like that.
Just thinking about the point of it all."
"We'll have the rest of our lives for that," she
said. "Right now, I think we should
celebrate."
This was a time to celebrate, but so much of his attention and
energy had been consumed by this war.
Mantovanni wasn't someone given to emotional eruptions for merrymaking
or sadness and the toll of the war on his soul made him even less apt to
indulge in such things. But he
understood how his crew needed the release such an announcement would bring.
"All right," he said, noting the sparkle it brought to
Benteen's eyes. "How about we..."
The intercom cut him short.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Captain," T'Vaar's voice said. "We've just received new orders from
Starfleet."
He turned the display on his desk about to face him. "I'll take them in here."
He quickly scanned the text on the screen causing his brow to
tighten.
"What is it?" Benteen asked as she stepped around to
look.
She frowned. "I guess
the war isn't quite over."
***
The light from Algira turned the horizon orange as evening came
upon the fourth planet of that system, bathing the great hall with a warm glow
that hid the seething resentment of the Cardassians present. Most of their number had hoped this system
would be the beginning of a triumph wrestled from a defeat that sickened them
to vomiting. Instead this place would be
remembered as confirmation of their failure.
Luciano Mantovanni saw the anger boil in the eyes of his former
adversaries every time he glanced their direction. He decided in this place, at this time,
avoiding eye contact with them was the best course of action. This was to be one of the last formal
surrenders by the Cardassians and he had no intention of letting it flare into
open war again before the ink was dry.
He took a short drink from the glass in his hand and tried to adjust
the collar of his dress uniform for the third time in the last five
minutes. He was convinced the damn thing
was intentionally designed to make the wearer uncomfortable.
Or distract from the
pain of most events one would wear it to, he thought.
Two weeks ago he had received orders to come to this world to
accept the surrender of the last of Cardassia's forces still at large. At first it looked as if they might put up a
fight, but that fear had evaporated after some very tense and silent moments
over the communication channel between
Mantovanni looked up and saw several of his officers standing near
a table doing their best to avoid the Cardassians. One of those officers looked his way and
smiled at him for just a moment before catching herself.
He returned Parihn's smile.
Mantovanni stood in the large hundred yard wide hall with more
than six hundred dignitaries, soldiers, and officers from the Federation,
Cardassia, Bajor, and numerous other worlds.
Yet, when he looked at Vaerth Parihn, they could be moving to slit his
throat for all he cared.
He turned away, before his conn officer caught him staring, and
took another drink. He told himself it
was nothing more than the effect of her Orion physiology which caused him to
react this way. He had to tell himself
such things because it was necessary.
A Federation ambassador walked up and introduced himself and
attempted to get Mantovanni to reminisce about battles and feats of
daring.
Fortunately, the ambassador felt more than happy to prattle on
about his own service in Starfleet two decades earlier, allowing Mantovanni to
pretend to be interested.
He could think of only one or two formal functions he had ever
enjoyed and the most recent had included pleasures he doubted he'd find at this
one. But these days he found himself
wanting more than an evening in a shared bed with sweet conversation.
During the war it was difficult to turn away from momentary
delights like those he and Erika Donaldson had indulged in. There had been too many times when that was
all any of them could hope for—the moment at hand, and nothing else.
It was all they had.
Now his heart and mind allowed him the first glimmerings of
concern for some distant shore. All the
thoughts put on hold because of the war now surfaced like the budding of spring
flowers after a cold, dark winter. The
rest of his life began to tug at him.
Murmurs filled the air of the large room as everyone present
turned toward the entrance.
Mantovanni's eyes immediately stopped on a Cardassian flanked by a
crowd of aides. While he wasn't often
attracted to Cardassian women, Gul Ocett's lithe form and gentle features
caught his attention. It wasn't the
gentleness so much that intrigued him, but the underlying strength it was
obviously meant to hide. She hadn't
risen to where she was on good looks.
There was a harshness he glimpsed when she first entered the room. It reminded him of the unrelenting glare of a
predator choosing its prey among the animals in its field of view.
Mantovanni wondered how she had escaped the purge going through
the Cardassian military these last few weeks.
Someone had to pay for all the Cardassian people suffered and the
resulting defeat, so they turned to the only ones left to pay the debt—their
most loyal and trusted servants.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the purge claimed
Ocett. The new government on Cardassia
intended on clearing the decks of any reminder of the past unpleasantness and
Ocett was clearly that. A part of him
knew a portion of her plight sat at his feet.
He had led the 13th Fleet which she had been charged with stopping. She’d failed and he suspected that was why
she was here to sign this last surrender.
A thought came to him that perhaps she had friends in the new
government back on Cardassia Prime who were keeping her from the purge and
signing this formal surrender might be the price required of her.
In the end, it didn't matter as long as she played her part in the
next day's ceremony.
Her party moved slowly toward his position with a sureness of
purpose that unsettled the captain of the
She may have to bow and
kneel as the defeated party of the conflict tomorrow, he thought. But she's playing the part of the proud host
to the hilt tonight.
Her deep set eyes deliberately scanned his form as she
approached. Most times Mantovanni tended
to ignore women looking him over. But he
got the strong sense he was not the object of her physical desire. There was something far more important she
sought.
"Good evening, Captain Mantovanni," Kirith Ocett said
with a deep and alluring voice. "I
do hope you find the reception enjoyable."
He bowed his head more from respect for what he still had to
accomplish here than for his host. "Most enjoyable, Gul Ocett."
She stared at him a moment as one of her aides brought a glass
filed with a dark green liquid. She took
a quick sip from it, not letting her eyes deviate from him.
"You hate it nearly as much as I do, Captain."
He remained stone-faced and took a sip from his own glass. "This is a beautiful world. As someone who has spent more months within
the hull of a starship than I care to admit, I always enjoy the chance to
breathe air that hasn't been through the innards of some life support system."
A brief smile appeared at the edge of her lips, then
quickly disappeared as she turned to look out the large window on the dying
embers of Algira's sunset.
"Then we have at least that much in common," she said
with more sadness than he had expected. "Though I long for the skies of Cardassia once this
unpleasantness is behind us."
She turned to him as he stepped next to her to watch darkness
consume the sky.
"One often longs for the world of their youth when facing a
change in direction, don't you think?" she asked, not really expecting an
answer.
His only response was a brief nod as they both stared into the
blackness outside.
Ocett took a long drink from her glass. "There are some details about tomorrow's
ceremony that demand our attention, Captain.
Would you consent to meet with me later this evening so that we
might..." she hesitated, forcing down a smile. "So that we might
dispose of them away from the attention of others?"
Mantovanni brushed away a lock of his jet-black hair that had
fallen across his forehead. "I
certainly hope you're not reconsidering."
She threw her head back and laughed. "Nothing quite so
dramatic, my dear Captain."
She leaned close to him.
"Just matters that might make it easier for my people to accept the
inevitable."
He saw something in her eyes he didn't like—a coldness that neared
despair. What did she want? he asked himself.
He considered declining her request not out of fear for himself,
but for fear of her doing something that might upset the events which the
Federation expected to transpire over the next twenty-four hours.
"Certainly, Gul Ocett," he finally replied, his
curiosity winning out over his caution.
"Come to my office on the third level of this building before
retiring for the evening," she said, taking a last look at him before
turning away.
He watched her approach the same Federation ambassador who had
pestered him earlier. Mantovanni
observed her for another full minute before joining members of his own
crew. He needed some time to think and
the comfort of familiar faces.
***
It was only a few minutes before
And not Ocett's bed
either, he assured himself. That was one thing he most certainly would
not allow to take place. Ocett was a
military commander, not some spoil to be claimed in the name of the
Federation's victory.
Some victory, he thought. The Founders
just stopped.
He was surprised the Cardassian military hadn't continued on
without their Dominion allies. The end
result would have been the same, but the Cardassians were a proud people. Mantovanni had expected their forces to fight
on for at least a short while—especially Gul Ocett's forces.
He stopped at the door and listened.
Nothing.
The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt any after hours activities Ocett might be engaged in. Whatever she wanted to see him about could
probably keep until morning if it had to.
He touched the door chime to announce his presence and
waited. After a moment the door opened.
A few steps in Mantovanni stopped, a bit shocked by the opulence
he found inside. This was more than a
military commander's temporary quarters.
It had the look of a place belonging to someone much higher up the food
chain than a mere gul.
"Thank you for coming," the now familiar sultry voice
stated.
Mantovanni slowly turned to its source, doing his best not to
appear surprised or off guard.
"I saw no reason to deny your request," he replied as
the door closed behind him.
Kirith Ocett walked out from a side hall toward him wearing a long
dress that at first gave the impression of the ordinary, but as she moved that
illusion evaporated as did any sense of mystery about the curves of her body.
Mantovanni smiled inwardly.
Is this it? he
asked himself. Was he to be some small
victory she could finally claim? Was
that what she wanted from him?
Ocett stopped near a small table with a collection of flasks
filled with various liquids. "Would
you have imagined six months ago the two of us here together, Captain?"
"I doubt it would have occurred to me."
"I had wondered on several occasions how you might surrender
your 13th Fleet to me and my forces," she said dryly. "However, that seems to have been denied
me."
He didn't respond, but quietly watched her.
"Would you join me in a drink, Captain?"
"What is it?" Mantovanni asked as Gul Ocett poured a
dull orange liquid into two small glasses.
"I am told it's called tranya. Something from an ally of the Federation I
believe," she said. "Please
sit."
He took a seat nearby.
"The antics of your 13th Fleet caused me more than a little
trouble during the war," she said, pouring his drink.
"I think that was the point," he replied.
She smiled and handed him a glass.
"I suppose you're right about that.
Just as the point of my actions was to stop you."
"Fortunately for me, you were unsuccessful," he said,
looking at his glass. Mantovanni took a
slow sip of the drink and found it pleasing, but not overly to his liking.
"Fortunate for both of us," she replied, taking a drink
from her own glass.
Ocett sat down in a chair behind a large desk.
"Where are you from, Captain?" she asked. "What world do you call home?"
"Earth—a little place called
"Hmmm," she whispered, looking him over. "I would have figured you for Mars."
"Mars?"
"Yes, most humans from Mars have that same stern aspect to
their eyes that you have."
"I hadn't noticed," he replied.
Ocett smiled at his unwillingness to engage in idle
conversation. "You know, the two of
us aren't nearly as different as you'd like to think."
"Really?"
"We're both soldiers," she said. "No matter how much you try to hide
behind that uniform and pretend you're an explorer, you know the truth."
"There are a lot of things passing as truth these days."
"But unlike you, I'll admit I'm a monster."
"You're right," Luciano let that hang a moment. "I won't admit to that... because it's
not true."
She laughed softly.
"All right, we'll play your particular mind game tonight."
He shrugged his shoulders and took another drink from his
glass. If this was the Cardassian idea
of seduction he wondered how the species survived at all.
"Then we aren't monsters, you and I. But we do fulfill that role for our
people," she stated. "We do it
so they can have the security they so crave yet be free of the acts that give
them that security. We're monsters so
they don't have to be. Don't you
consider that a noble sacrifice?"
"No. I consider it
just another lie," Mantovanni said.
"The difference between you and I is that you enjoy the role. You desire it."
"And you're telling me there isn't some part of you that
cries out for the purity of battle? The lack of any ambiguity?"
"I keep my monster on a leash and under control. You indulge yours, letting it dominate and
take over who you once were," he said.
"Sounds like a very fine distinction."
Mantovanni finished his drink.
"It's what allows me to look in the mirror and accept who I am and
keeps me from having to justify myself as you're doing right now."
Ocett frowned. "Your
arrogance is substantially larger than I had ever dreamed," she said. A grin crept across her face. "I think I rather like it."
"I'm not at all interested in you liking me," he stated
flatly.
"Well then, to the war and the part we played in it,"
she said raising her glass.
Mantovanni took his empty glass and turned it over, setting it
upside down on the table.
"There is nothing worth toasting about this war, except its
end," he said.
"There were our battles; surely they were worth something?"
"No. This war took
place because the Dominion was driven by irrational fear to strike out and
cause pointless suffering for billions.
I see no glory in that, only sadness," he said, turning to look at
her. "Our battles were required to
hold back the madness until the Founders came to their senses."
"But is there any harm in us taking pride in what we
accomplished?" Ocett asked.
"Would you diminish the sacrifices made by your people?"
"Not at all," he replied. "They will be remembered, but not
without the realization that it was the insanity of the Dominion and the
Cardassians which required their sacrifices."
A smile crept across her face.
"Then we do understand each other."
"I doubt it," he said.
"You'll spend the rest of your life remembering the strategies and
engagements. I will forever be haunted
by the memory of the lives on both sides which were wasted in this senseless
conflict—a conflict that need never have happened."
"We did what was required of us, Captain."
"If more Cardassian commanders had done 'what was required'
the war might have ended much sooner," Mantovanni said, lifting a brow.
Her features hardened.
"You're suggesting we should have turned against our own
leadership?"
"At least that would have been courageous."
"A traitor is nothing to be praised," she said with a
scowl.
"Some might call what you'll do tomorrow a traitorous
act," Manotvanni said.
Her scowl faded as she looked away. "I do what I must for the good of my
people," she said softly.
"Better late than never," he replied.
She turned to face him again, but instead of rage he saw something
that surprised him. The sureness was
gone along with the bravado. All he
could see seated across the large desk from him was someone consumed by fear
and confusion.
This isn't over for her
yet, he thought. She's
still fighting, but she's on a battlefield without any of the certainty she
craves.
He stood to his feet.
"There was some matter you wished to discuss with me before
tomorrow?"
The lost child he'd seen in her a moment before was replaced by
the consummate military leader once again.
"Yes," she began.
"None of my aides or fellow officers will be present at the ceremony."
"Why not?" he asked.
"That's a matter that doesn't concern you, Captain," she
stated firmly. "I simply wanted to
avoid any worry on the part of the Federation."
He nodded. "Is that
all?
"Yes."
He could tell it wasn't. She
still wanted something from him. Acceptance? Acknowledgement? He
still wasn't sure and at this point, he didn't really care. By this time tomorrow, he'd be on the
"I should go then," he said, turning to leave.
"Why can't you see me as an equal?" she asked, standing
to her feet.
He stopped and faced her again.
"Because when it came time for you to make the right choice, you
chose honor, country, and duty instead.
And because of that more people died needlessly on both sides."
She looked away from him, not wanting to accept his view of events
or his presence any longer. "Get
out," she whispered.
"Do the galaxy a favor," he said. "Try to make the right choice the next
time your people embark on another pointless war and you unleash your monster
again."
"Get out!" she screamed across the table at him.
Mantovanni quickly turned and left.
Kirith Ocett fell back into her chair, her monster whispering
words of comfort to her troubled mind.
***
A strong wind blew across the platform outside the hall the next
day at mid-morning. The brilliant light
from the sun above beat down upon everyone present as Luciano Montovanni
accepted the formal surrender of all the Cardassian forces under the command of
Gul Ocett in a ceremony that contained no cheers and no shouts of triumph. It was a solemn occasion where once again
Ocett played the role expected of her.
As she had informed the
With Ocett's signature, the Dominion War was finally over.
Just before they left the platform, Ocett turned to Mantovanni and
stared blankly at him for several seconds.
He watched as she seemed to have something to say, but instead only
mouthed the word, Goodbye.
***
Six hours later, the USS Liberty
was on its way back to Deep Space Nine
as Luciano Mantovanni busied himself with personnel reports and other matters
that demanded the attention of the ship's commanding officer. He sat reading from the comm display on the
desk in his ready room preparing for the change from a ship of war to one of
exploration.
The intercom chimed.
"Mantovanni," he replied.
"Captain, we've
just received a message from the Cardassian government," Benteen's voice said.
"Yes?" he asked, only half listening as he continued his
reading.
"An hour after we
left Algira, Gul Ocett was found in her office... dead."
That caught his attention.
"What happened? Her officers?"
"No," Benteen said. "She took her own life. She left a message behind, but the
Cardassians didn't convey what it said."
Mantovanni closed his eyes.
Now he understood, at least in part.
She wouldn't let herself be removed in disgrace or die at the hands of
one of her officers who'd now see her as a traitor. But she'd wanted a way out,
something that would let her draw back from what she felt was unavoidable.
"Captain?" Benteen asked over the intercom.
Benteen must have said something else he hadn't heard. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,"
he said as he switched off the intercom.
Luciano Mantovanni turned in his chair and looked out the window
of his ready room at the stars streaking by while his ship soared through
interstellar space at warp speed.
He wished he could have locked away that part of himself dedicated
to the truth and given Ocett the few brief words of absolution she'd sought
from him. It might have been all she'd
needed to make another choice, but he couldn't tell her the lie she so wanted
to believe. Too much of her life had
been drowned in the stench of lies.
Now he offered her the only thing he had left to give.
"Rest in peace, Kirith Ocett," he whispered. "Rest in peace."
But in his heart, he doubted she'd ever found such peace.
JM: Star
Trek:
MG: That's correct. I just passed the one year mark a week or
so ago.
JM: As the name implies, there isn't much
"happy happy joy joy" aboard the USS Chamberlain. The tone of
the series is rather grim. Is that intentional, or are you just a depressing
kinda guy?
MG: I tend to be an upbeat kind of person most of the time (at
least that's what my kids tell me). But you're right. There isn't much
"happy happy joy joy" stuff going on in Dark Horizon. For me, the heart of
drama is conflict and I not only wanted external conflict in DH, but internal as well. However, the story won't be all doom
and gloom.
JM: How would you compare and contrast
your man in the center seat, Jack McCall, with
MG: Jack McCall is someone who went through a fairly
shattering experience during the Dominion War. His ship was destroyed and he
and his crew were captured and spent about a year in a prison camp. He's not
nearly as capable an officer as Mantovanni and wasn't the most serious minded
of cadets at the Academy either. Mantovanni is someone who excels in a number
of areas professionally. McCall is competent, but a lot of his potential has
thus far gone unrealized.
JM: Is McCall an anti-hero to you?
MG: I don't consider him one really. He's just more at the
point in his life where he's "becoming" the person he's meant to be,
but I did intentionally try to make him more of an "everyman" kind of
character.
He is idealistic and courageous, but these qualities haven't
really come to the fore just yet.
JM:
Let's change gears. Have you been a
JM: And you weren't shy; you came right in and sanctioned Gul Ocett.
I put a lot
of time into her, Gray!
JM:
Ocett has grown to mean a lot to me... and I was shocked at her death.
She doesn't
strike me as the type to just give up.
I saw Ocett as the proud professional soldier wanting to go
out with her head held high and at the same time making an
"honorable" exit similar to that of many of the Japanese generals at
the end of WWII.
JM: I was thinking that might be your
position.
MG: For me the story was about how a professional soldier
deals with defeat—especially when the politics at home are changing.
One of the things I was most unsure about was Mantovanni
"admiting" that he had a monster with the line, "I keep my
monster on a leash and under control. You indulge yours, letting it dominate
and take over who you once were."
JM: I don't know that he would admit to
it.
MG: But it made for a great
comeback to her. :-)
MG: Perhaps she's the one person, a fellow professional, that
he could really be honest with.
JM: I may ask your permission to set a
story within this story.
MG: What did you have in mind?
JM: I'm not sure. Her death is going to
be a sore spot for him, though. He would be appalled at not having realized
that suicide was what she was considering.
I'm
wondering, though, if he did know… and just felt that she had to make
that choice for herself—to pass through that long dark night of the soul on her
own.
I’d wager, if so, that he'd expected her to
make it.
MG: I'm honored to have gotten a chance to play
around in your playground a bit.
JM: No problem. You came in and peed in
the sandbox, but that's alright.
MG: It's not my fault... the diaper had a leak.
JM: So... the question we've all been
waiting to hear answered: Deltan girls or Orion animal women—who's sexier?
MG: Hmmmm.... I'd probably have to go with Orion animal women.
:-)
JM: Smart boy.
MG: There's something about a woman in green. Or rather, a green woman.
JM: Rather than getting into a discussion
about lime jello, why don't we end this here? Again, thanks for your work,
Michael, congratulations again, and best of luck with Dark Horizon.
MG: Thank… you for the opportunity to jump into the