Leo froze. "Madred." The name hung in the air like an unexploded bomb.
"Yes... forgive me, have we met? You seem to know me after all."
Data gripped Leo's hand under the table. "No, however my wife has a fine memory for names and history. No doubt she has heard yours, as many of the new consultants fulfilled other duties in the past."
Leo jerked her hand away from Data's and ignored the way he was looking at her. Be calm, it said. In that, she wouldn't disappoint him.
"Madred," she repeated smoothly. "Formerly of Celtris III, formerly Gul Madred."
Madred looked caught out, and genuinely uncomfortable. "Yes, I was Chief Intelligence Officer there during the wars. Forgive me, Leora... may I presume to call you Leora? Many Cardassians must admit to excesses that were committed during the wars, things that are distressing in memory that we would not have done in other circumstances. We hope to reconcile our past with hopes of a better future. I would not have come if I did not hope that were possible. Forgive me... the past is a painful subject."
"Forgive me"... he says that a lot. Madred was soft spoken and charming, the picture of a pleasant older gentleman of any species. There was not a hint of insincerity in his words. But Leo knew exactly who and what he was. No amount of time or "reconciliation" could change what he had done.
"Of course, Mr. Madred," she agreed, "We all have past experiences that we'd rather not remember, but cannot forget. And that's why we're all here, to try to make up for some of that unhappy past. Those excesses." She smiled and laid her hand on Data's arm. "It's why we do what we do, right D?"
"Of course." He tried not to look to closely at Leo. She seemed to have recovered from the surprise of their dinner companion's identity, still... he would give a fortune in gold-pressed latinum to have Deanna's betazoid assistance at this moment.
The evening continued as predicted, the dry speech-laden preliminaries seeming to take forever, with dinner and dancing yet to come. Data's concerns faded as Leo chatted amiably with Madred and his security team. Nothing more about the wars, or unhappy memories. That she did not mention her Starfleet career prior to Daystrom first struck him as curious, until he realized that it would only bring up unpleasant things that nobody wanted to discuss. Data was pleased with Leo's ability to engage in the spirit of reconciliation despite the knowledge of their companion's former role as captor during Captain Picard's imprisonment on Celtris III. Given the human (and other species) ability to remember past wrongs as if they had occurred mere hours ago, the concept of reconciliation was one that both impressed and occasionally confused Data. While not ignoring or even forgiving past wrongs, at its core reconciliation was a determination to concentrate on the future rather than the past. Where it had been possible in history, it had led to great progress.
"I'm about to dry up and blow away," Leo announced as the conclusion of yet another speech merged seamlessly with the beginning of the next. Both Data and Madred immediately offered to go to the bar and fetch some drinks.
"No, no, you two sit and enjoy the questionable entertainment," she laughed and turned to one of Madred's security men. "Mr. Rugal, would you mind giving me a hand? You seem very bored! Will Crystal Blue Sparkling water be all right?" The others nodded and she took off for the bar with Rugal in tow, talking to him a mile a minute.
"Your wife is most entertaining, Commander Data. I believe she could carry on a conversation on most any topic, with a mute companion!" joked Madred.
"Yes, her social skills are most impressive," Data agreed, feeling rather sorry for the somewhat reticent Rugal as he watched the Cardassian struggling to keep up with Leo as she spoke. "She cannot bear to see anyone sitting silent for very long."
By the time Leo and Rugal returned with two trays of drinks the speechifying part of the evening had concluded. There was to be a fifteen minute interval before wait staff would circulate to take dinner orders. Apparently feeling great sympathy for the patience of his security team, Madred dismissed them.
"Go, you have been patient enough. You are welcome to join us for dinner, or you may eat with your colleagues and return later."
The offer was gratefully accepted. Nobody had ever been assassinated at a party like this... though they were apt to die of boredom.
"Data, do you mind if I borrow Mr. Madred for a bit? I expect he hasn't seen our crystal garden. It's very beautiful at night."
"Crystal garden?" the Cardassian inquired.
"Yes," Data explained, "we have an area where the dilithium and other crystals necessary for our project are 'grown'. It has proven much more effective than a laboratory, as the crystals seem to develop more rapidly in an open environment. And as my wife has noted, it serves an additional aesthetic purpose."
Madred smiled widely, a brave thing for a species who could never look anything but wicked when doing so. "That sounds delightful. Mrs. Soong?" He extended his arm, and she took it.
"Be back soon, D."
When they reached the portal that led to the garden, Madred gasped in surprise. The 'garden' was filled with crystals of all heights and colors. The reflected light of the Daystrom planet's three moons and two suns created the impression that some of them were lit from within, while others were phosphorescent and glowed of their own accord. A chemical fountain fed the channels that ran between the rows of crystals, nourishing them and speeding their development.
"You were quite right, this is most beautiful," Madred confirmed. "Thank you for sharing this, Mrs. Soong."
Leo withdrew her hand from his arm and took a step back. "Oh, please call me Leo."
"Leo?" he repeated, with some confusion.
"Yes. Leo O'Reilly Soong. Formerly Leo O'Reilly, formerly Administrative Executive Officer aboard the USS Enterprise. Formerly serving my entire career under Captain Jean Luc Picard. Who you came to know rather well."
The confusion on Madred's face was replaced with unease. "Yes. A most unfortunate incident."
"An 'incident'," Leo echoed in a chill voice. "What a lovely euphemism. Kind of like 'excesses'."
As they stood face to face in the moonlight the past rose up around them. No longer a civilian consultant and a technology administrator, in Leo's eyes they were again the master torturer and and the administrative exec who had danced through a minefield of Plausible Deniability. He had escaped with a reduction in rank, she with a rage that had never entirely cooled.
"We cannot undo the past," Madred said. "What happened when I was director of Intelligence on Celtris III..."
"Intelligence!" Leo sneered. "An insult to the word, and a pretty word for torture. That's what you were, and all you were, a torturer. No intelligence needed. Your type are ignorant and powerless, you inflict pain to make up for your own lack of anything worthwhile. And you enjoy it." Madred tried to speak, but she cut him off. "Don't bother to lie about it. Whoever you think you are now, you enjoyed it then. I heard it from my captain often enough when he first came back, what was left of him anyway, how much you enjoyed it. Did you know that the damage was permanent?"
Now he found his voice. "Not so, the unit we used inflicted pain only, no permanent damage."
"Listen to yourself. 'Pain only'. How nice. Did you forget what happened to his heart years later? How he was tortured all over again, dying by inches, thanks to the aftereffects of that 'unit'? Even before that, did you know how long it took him to become himself again when the game was up? There were things in him, parts of him, that never did heal."
"You were very close," Madred said in a quiet voice. "I remember now. You gave up your commission to obtain the information that saved his life."
"That's right, GUL Madred. Your little 'excesses' had quite the ripple effect."
"Then it says a great deal that you are here. That you came here, as you said earlier, to engage in reconciliation."
Leo only barely managed to keep her voice down as she backed Madred toward the fountain.
"Guess again." She pulled from her sleeve the Cardassian weapon she'd lifted from the security guard while she confused him with mindless chatter. She'd learned a lot about many types of weapons while in Starfleet, even if she'd never had to use them much.
"I'm not here for reconciliation."
"What then, after so many years?" Madred asked, though by then the answer was clear.
Leo smiled the kind of smile that she'd seen on countless Cardassian faces before replying.
"Synchronicity. I'm sure you've heard the Klingon saying, revenge is a dish best served cold?" She looked around and took a deep cleansing breath of the night air. "I wasn't expecting it, but tonight's just about cold enough."
Leo pressed the Kill icon and Madred dropped without a sound. She stepped over his body to drop the weapon in the fountain; the chemicals would erase any trace of her DNA. She didn't spare a backward look as she returned to the celebration.
"Did Mr. Madred enjoy the crystal garden?" Data asked, then noticed Leo was approaching alone. "Where has he gone?"
She sat before answering, "One of his security pulled him away, I don't know why. It seemed important, so I left them there."
It was normal enough, but Data found Leo's smile rather curious. He was well acquainted with all of her facial expressions. This one was most evident when she felt she had accomplished something important.
"My love... is there something wrong?"
Leo laughed, a little too energetically her husband thought. "What could be wrong, the speeches are over and it's time for dinner." She hailed a nearby waiter.
"Yes, ma'am, what would you like to order?"
"Do you serve Klingon cuisine?"
He nodded smugly. "Yes, of course."
"Excellent!" Her focus wandered for a moment to the garden portal on the far side of the room before returning to the waiter.
"I have a taste for something cold."
A/N: Forgive me for this little fit of Trek Noir. It's a bit Rod Serling-ish with a soupcon of Alfred Hitchcock. I hope Dixon Hill would approve...
