Tales from the Lagashi Sector

USS Sovereign, Cadets’ Quarters
Stardate: 2387.365, Ship’s Time: 2210

For once, Eric Rossum didn’t have to wonder if Eden was in the small quarters he was currently sharing with Shen before he opened the door. Or, for that matter, if Shen was – the Andorian Midshipman had been seeing someone from the Operations section, though he wouldn’t say who, and was seeing his bunk about as often as Eden Enigma was seeing hers, if for more prosaic reasons. At the moment, though, Eric was fairly sure that anybody with any sense would have taken the feeling of lashing, clawing hurt that clung to the air outside his quarters as a sign to find somewhere else to sleep.

Either she’s rubbing off on me, he admitted dryly to the privacy of his own mind, or I’m hung up on this girl enough to risk literally sharing her pain. At least having Hjratkpot in the mix meant breaking the Midshipmen’s quarters up into two-person rooms – I’d hate to have an irritable Horta dissolving decking out here while I scraped up my nerve.

The things I’m grateful for just keep getting stranger and stranger.

He pulled in a breath, let it go, and then hit the release for the door. “Eden?”

“Eric.”  Eden’s jacket hung from the head of his bunk, her new boots dropped carelessly at the foot, and she had tucked herself back against the bulkhead behind it so thoroughly that her lifted knees pressed against the synth-cotton crimson of her undershirt. When she lifted her head, looking away from the PADD that hung loose in her hand, her dark eyes were red and ringed with deep violet circles, and her skin so pale that it smashed the breath out of him.  When she spoke, there was little inflection to her voice and almost none of the aggressive energy that defined her. He had never in his life, he thought with a distant sort of shock, seen something that had hurt so much to be a witness to.  “Hello.  Was your shift pleasant?”

“Routine. Lots of routine – apparently, the boss has decided to run a little mini-refit while we’re sitting here like a kid with his hands over his eyes. Maybe just to keep us from worrying.” He was surprised by how normal his voice sounded. How automatically the words came. It felt a little like listening to someone else talk – someone who wasn’t thinking about finding whoever had torn the soul out of Eden Enigma and giving them the kind of beating that a kid on Draxal could only have dreamed of.

He sat down on the bunk next to her, and finally the words became his own again. “Eden… you’re broadcasting.”

“Oh… I should be more careful.”  She closed her eyes, and the flood of emotions slowed to a trickle.  “Sorry.”  Her voice was a whisper, barely audible, and she did not meet his eyes.

“It’s okay. I mean, no, it’s not, but not because you were broadcasting.” He paused, laughed faintly at the impossible tangle of what he meant to say that was building in his throat, and then wrapped his hand around hers with a wordless sound of shared hurt. Eden. He shaped the thought and emotion carefully, pushing it out toward her with the inexpert urgency of an absolute novice and the methodical care of a good engineer. I’m here. You’re not alone. Please let me help.

“I should be scrubbing plasma manifolds on a Rigellian freighter somewhere in the Beta Quadrant… preferably somewhere as far from Lagash as possible.  If the Captain had done what regulations said he should, that’s the best I’d be able to hope for.”  Eric’s efforts were rewarded with a light brush of Eden’s trembling hand against his.  “And the Executor will likely want to hang me when she finds out what I did to her.”

“Not,” he said artlessly, “a very good day, then.”

“Five days ago, Major Xian tasked me with collecting some information for her.  Deployable Starfleet forces, ships on low-priority missions.  Resources that could be called up against the Breen, if the situation demanded it.  Low-level classified information.”  Eden breathed out slowly.  “The document I assembled found its way to the Star Navy’s admiralty, my thumbprint still fresh on it.”

He felt an engineer’s natural need to dissect the problem and identify the faulty part, the section that could be removed or repaired to fix the situation, and stepped on it hard. After the plasma relays have blown is not the time to talk about how they got that way.  Instead, he wrapped his arms around her carefully, and rested his head against hers. “Your superior officer asked you to write up a report. You wrote the report. I can’t see how that leads to you scrubbing plasma manifolds.”

“The Major is not a Starfleet officer, Eric.  She wasn’t cleared for the information.  Its level of classification was low enough that, had she simply asked for clearance, she would have gotten it.  Which means that she went through me to avoid having Starfleet know that she was looking for the information at all… to get the information to LSN command before Starfleet knew it was being sought.  In technical terms, that makes me guilty of revealing classified information.  Given the Lagashi interests in this region, a capable prosecutor could likely have me convicted of treason.  Even the least serious legal interpretation of this should have me either out of Starfleet or with a strong enough reprimand in my file that I could expect to see the center chair of a starship at about the same time that the Breen and Klingons start singing twentieth century American protest songs around campfires.”

“Eden…” He wanted to argue, to say that it wasn’t her job to run counter-intelligence against an officer who was not only her boss but the head of Strategic Operations for the entire ship – an officer Surval had accepted and appointed to that post himself. To say any number of things about how crazy it was, whatever the regulations said, to hold her personally responsible for a screw-up on this scale. None of which matters, idiot. You can argue until you’re blue in the face, but it won’t make her feel any less responsible, or make the danger to her career any less real. So stow it. 

He kissed her hair, instead, and listened.

“He’s not reporting it to Starfleet… not in any detail.  I have been removed from most duties until further notice.  I will receive holodeck time to keep my shooting from getting rusty, and I will continue to help the Executor…”  Eden closed her eyes, swallowing hard.  “Spy on the Executor.  That is why I was assigned as her aide… I am an empath, and she does not know that.  And I have already learned things I would be happier not knowing.”

“Things the Captain insists on knowing?” There was a hard edge of protective anger in Eric’s voice, dancing across the core of his sense like caged lightning. It was a new sensation – something she’d never felt in him before, and something that feathered her senses like the pressure drop before a storm.

“Things the Federation should likely have known a long time ago.  I just don’t like being the agent of it.”  She reached for his hand.  “Captain Jenner is the father of the Executor’s youngest daughters.  They have been lovers since the Dominion War.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers, letting his breath out in a slow whistle, and pressed his lips to her hair again. Captain Jenner and the Executor… talk about the mother of all security problems.  “So you’ve told the Captain about the Executor’s personal life, and the Major arranged for you to tell the Executor about a bunch of classified deployment data. Does being a double agent come with a special uniform?”

A quiet laugh escaped Eden’s throat, and a little life sparked in her eyes.  “Not funny.”

“Sure it is.” He bent and kissed her mouth lightly, and went on with a great deal more cheer than he felt. “Now all we need to do is get you in touch with whatever’s left of the Tal’shiar, whoever’s claiming they replaced the Obsidian Order these days and the half-dozen Klingons who’ve ever heard of intelligence work. Oh, and the Dominion too.Then you can be a sextuple agent – that’s got to be some kind of record. That way you can set a record in intelligence work, too.”

“You are ridiculous and I’d hate you if I weren’t so fond of you.”  Eden leaned against him heavily.  “I haven’t seen the Major yet… I don’t know what I intend to tell her.  She stabbed me in the back rather thoroughly.”

“I could arrange for her to have a turbolift accident. Something non-fatal, you know, but that involves being cut out of the car with a plasma torch.” She wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. Neither was he.

“No.  I have to face her.  Tempting, though.”  Eden closed her eyes.  “We don’t need to both be in trouble, Eric.  I may end up relying on your recommendations to get a position on a Starfleet ship after my exchange tour, at this rate.”

“Not a chance. You’ll do something brilliant, and Starfleet will be begging you to come back just as hard as the Star Navy’s begging you to stay.” He brushed his lips over her temple, then over her cheeks, his lips feathering the bruised skin beneath her eyes. “Promise.”

“You are lovely.  Ridiculous and lovely.”  Eden offered him a soft smile.  “Thank you.”

“All part of the service.” He smiled down at her, fingertips tracing the delicate line of her jaw, and there was a warm twinkle in those deep brown eyes that refused to be deflected by her hurt or his frustration. “Besides, I need to nurse you back to health so I can kill you for this whole girl back home thing properly. It won’t be poetic if you’re half-dead already.”

“Friedmann’s Light, don’t remind me about that.  I think my problems started when the communications blackout cut off that conversation.”  Eden rested her head on his shoulder.  “Which means I still have it ahead of me.”

“Just think of it as a test. That way, you’ll ace it.” His fingers wove softly through the dark strands of her hair, and he drew her close enough to taste the beat of his heart. “Nobody’s allowed to take revenge on you before I do. I’m sure there’s a regulation about that.”

“I’ll look it up in the morning.  I’m tired.”  Eden turned her head up, finally meeting his eyes.  “Hold me.”

“Always.” He bent to kiss her, and kept kissing her until the only thing that intruded on the rush of their mingled breath was the sweet, spiced taste of her against his mouth and the thunder of his pulse. If there was a promise in the word, and there might have been, neither of them paid it much attention.

Later, when they were curled across each other in the bed and the sweat was cooling on their skins, he rolled across her to look down into the dark brilliance of her eyes and crooked a tiny smile that glowed with sated laughter. “I think I have to let Sato off punishment detail now.”

“In a better mood, then?”  She stretched against him, her fingers against the side of his neck, and let her eyes linger on his.

“Absolutely. I think I could realign the whole warp core myself, right now. If you aren’t, by the way, then I’m going to have to throw myself into the intermix chamber. The honorable thing. You understand.” He was chuckling softly, his fingers tracing the hollow of her hip, and he had the gleam in his eye of a man more than pleased with his work.

“Oh, no, I’m feeling much better.”  Her laughter wound itself through his, warm and breathy.  “That was… therapeutic.”

“Maybe you should recommend me to your counselor. She might prescribe it on a regular basis.”

“You should be careful with that, or you may end up prescribed to about half the crew.”  Eden smirked, letting her lips brush his neck.

“I think you’re about all the trouble I can take.” He caught her jaw and kissed her again, then murmured into her mouth with a voice that was all private joy. “Computer, stardate and time.”

“It is now 2388.001, and the time is 0138.35 hours.”

Eric Rossum laughed gently, and kissed her mouth, and silently decided that all was just about right with the world. “Happy New Year, Eden.”

USS Sovereign, Holodeck 1, Deck 2
Stardate: 2387.365, Ship’s Time: 1215

The towering trees of Summit Park reached toward the vast adamant dome that crowned the arcology of Jade Sky, a mingled garden of Earth and Lagashi plant life and small game spread out below them, and the sky outside thundered with impotent lightning as one of the planet’s great mega-storms crashed against the duranium spires of what was – at least as long as Li Ling Zetian an Hark remained Executor – effectively the capital city of the Republic. Young women, in and out of uniform, walked their families beneath the shelter of those trees or ducked into their shadows for a private moment of passion. In the grass, a near-snake crawled down the burrow of an Earth rabbit, its long muzzle forcing the walls of the burrow open around it as its powerful fore-limbs clawed it deeper. It was the sort of place that one could spend a lifetime exploring and never see all the small delights it had to offer.

“I think I could be comfortable in a place like this… for a few years, at least.”  Eden knelt next to the path, brushing her fingers against the blossom of a small, white flower.  “What sort of plant is this?  It’s beautiful.”  Everything here is beautiful.

“We call it a starbright – it’s actually luminescent, under low light. In high summer, they spread out across the plains and low tundra like a sea of stars.” Zetian stood at the edge of the path, watching Eden’s fascinated inspection with a soft smile. Oh, to be that young again. She’d chosen to wear a variation on the Lagashi Star Navy’s dress uniform today, without decoration except for the Parlimentary Medal of Valor at her breast and the Executor’s Key at her throat – she might have been entitled to a full Admiral’s uniform by her Fleet service, but it hadn’t entirely been in jest when she’d told Cáo Ning over breakfast that if she, Ning and William began wearing their formal decorations to these meetings, the collective glare might be damaging to the eyes of their companions. William. Her heart shimmered and danced silently at his name, at the faint echo of the memory of his face in her hands and his lips against hers, and she turned away from the kneeling Midshipwoman to look up into the raging storm as if it might wash the thought away – back into the protective shell that shielded it from a world of longing.

I wish she’d stop thinking about him.  Knowing, and having her not know that I know, is… difficult.  Throw in the fact that her emotions have the strength of a high-yield photon torpedo anyway…  “It’s one of the loveliest flowers I’ve ever seen.  I have a packet of seeds for Cestian spice roses in my quarters… something from the nearest thing I have to a homeworld.  If you would like some for the gardens, I would quite like you to have them.”

“Thank you, Miss Enigma. I’m sure the Botanical Society would appreciate the contribution.” Her thoughts once again firmly in hand, Zetian turned back to Eden and offered her an approving smile. “You’re a remarkably thoughtful and capable young woman. You must, at some point, convey to your Captain my thanks for assigning you to me. You’ve made my stay aboard Sovereign considerably more enjoyable.”

We’ll see if you want to thank him when you realize it was me who told him about your relationship with Captain Jenner… Friedman’s light, sometimes I hate being an empath.  “I will do so, ma’am.”  Eden pushed herself to her feet.  “It was an honor to be chosen for the duty, Admiral.  Your strategy at the Battle of the Outer Valoris was the subject of three different papers I wrote in the Academy.”

“Only three? I would have expected a full book, at least.” Zetian’s voice had a playful lilt to it, the gentle humor a woman well aware of her own fame and accomplishments but unwilling to linger over them too emphatically.

“I have not had time to write any books at all since starting my higher education, ma’am, or I might have done so.”  Eden winked, following Zetian down the path.  Problem the second: I like her.  She’s a great political and military leader, a great woman, and both funny and charismatic.  This would be hard enough if I didn’t like her…

The shade of a vast oak, at least two centuries old, passed over them as Zetian folded her hands behind her back. It gave her the air of a woman half-lost in thought, though her voice was as vibrant and attentive as ever. Her sense had a strange, crystalline clarity to it that was stained by the flickers of remembered emotion – fear, anger, battle-joy, determination. “If you ever feel the need, Miss Enigma, I would be happy to make myself available for interview. Considering your own obvious talents in the area and your practical experience with operating in the region, I imagine you might actually produce some interesting questions.”

“I’m not much of an interviewer, ma’am, though I showed talent at running debriefings.  I ask questions more so that I can learn, rather than so that I can teach others.”  Eden offered a rueful smile.  “I suppose that I am a little more selfish than is expected from Earth people… perhaps it is a youth in space that causes that.”

“Or an excess of good sense.” Zetian glanced back at her, lips quirked in a sly smile. “The job of Midshipwomen and Ensigns is to learn, and the job of senior officers is to teach. By the time you trade the former for the latter, I imagine you’ll have picked up the knack.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”  Eden smiled, her tone making clear that it was the advice rather than the praise that she referred to.  “I have, for some time, intended to take my first posting aboard a non-Starfleet vessel, to further my education.  I’m planning to apply for an exchange position in the LSN.”

“Any of our Captains would be lucky to have such a capable young Ensign aboard.” It was a gracious compliment, and that could have been all it was, but there was a sharp evaluation in Zetian’s voice that suggested it was a professional judgement she intended to act on. “I expect you will have no difficulty securing such a post.”

“I am glad to hear it.”  For however long it lasts.  Eden folded her hands behind her back as they walked, letting her eyes wander over the park.  “It’s very crowded here, compared with Earth… it makes me think less of a city and more of the Promenade on Mannheim or the Commercial Levels on Roosevelt during the day.”

“The first time I saw Paris, my first thought was that it was impossibly small for the capital of a government that spans so much of the quadrant.” Zetian shook her head slowly, her voice carrying just a hint of disapproval. “Your Earth cities have the feel of a well-tended bonzai – all the vital, climbing bits pruned away to leave an attractive, artificial core. It was the worst in New York: the city feels half-empty.”

“The planet is, in many ways, half-empty, though I do not think its natives see it that way.”  Eden smiled, her mind going back to the lectures of a favorite school-years history teacher.  “In 2025, the planet’s population was nearly seven and a half billion.  World War III killed about half a billion people, but that left more than seven billion – significantly more than the planet could comfortably sustain over the long term at the level of technology available in the twenty-first century.  When humanity achieved warp travel, we spread quickly – entire planets available for small subpopulations.  The population stabilized around four billion in the middle of the twenty-third century – only about a billion less people than were on the planet in the 1990s, when the Lagashi left – but a lot of the infrastructure built before colonization has remained.”  Eden paused at one of the windows, gazing down at the bottom layer of the storm that thrashed against the smaller spires of the great arcology.  “Which means cities often feel half-empty.  Transporters also encouraged ruralization of the remaining population of the planet, which exacerbated the emptying of the cities.”

“It’s difficult to imagine simply letting that much residential space stand empty.” Zetian shook her head slowly, then flashed Eden a subtle smile. “Of course,  that’s purely cultural relativism speaking, but last year the Lagash system added approximately a billion cubic meters of residential and commercial volume in the form of expansions of existing arcologies or the construction of new astral arcologies. We expect to add almost three times that amount in the next two years, excluding the ongoing expansions of our major shipyards. The idea of wasting that kind of space is, put kindly, bizarre.”

“There is an old Earth maxim, ma’am… ‘preaching to the choir.’  I was raised on a military research starbase… the idea of having any space that isn’t being used for something vital to either the function of the settlement or the physical or emotional well-being of its people feels very strange indeed to me.”

“Sensible.” Zetian’s eyes flashed with a quite note of approval. “If more of our Earth-born sisters were as easy to talk to, Miss Enigma, I imagine our alliance would run far more smoothly.”

“We are all human…”  Or half-human… she doesn’t know, does she?  My eyes don’t show it.  If she hasn’t read my file…  “In theory, this should be the easiest alliance in the history of galactic politics.”

That drew a long, quiet laugh from Zetian that shook the tall, lean woman’s shoulders with its force. “Hardly in keeping with the experience of human history, Miss Enigma. ‘Man heaps on misery to man – it deepens like a coastal shelf.’ Earth-born or Lagashi, humanity has always been its own most difficult and thorny problem.”

“I wonder, at times, what would have happened if Dr. Cochrane’s repurposed missile had failed… if it had exploded on its way to orbit, or never generated a stable warp envelope.  Humanity was so close already to having destroyed itself… without the arrival of the Vulcans to unite Earth, how long would we have avoided turning on each other again, and how much of us would be left?”

“Earth survived the American/Russian Cold War, the Khans, three world wars and an incalculable number of plagues, revolutions and potential technological disasters. Lagash has endured the first winter of colonization, the tyranny of Landing, the Year of Desolation and over a century of war with the Breen. If there is one thing I know about homo sapiens, Miss Enigma, it’s that we are survivors. No matter what horrors we inflict on ourselves or endure from others, we carry on.” Zetian stopped and turned to take Eden’s shoulders, giving them a very gentle shake, and the platinum imprints of the embedded circuits in her gray-blue eyes gave her gaze an exotic intensity that held the younger woman rooted to the spot. “‘Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,’ to the farthest star, and the end of time itself. Humanity was born for nothing less.”

“That… is remarkably hopeful, Admiral.  I will reflect on it.”  Eden looked up at Zetian, her brown eyes holding a quietly contemplative sparkle.  “Thank you.”

“One of the advantages of getting older, Midshipwoman, is that one gets to occasionally share a little wisdom with one’s children.” The Executor’s lips twitched gently, a spark of mirth touching her eyes, and she released Eden with a gentleness that belied the strength of those slim hands. “Or at least, what one hopes is wisdom. I imagine it will be time for me to return the conferences soon, but I imagine you might indulge me in one more small curiosity?”

“Of course, Admiral.”  Eden stepped into place beside the Executor, her hands returning to her sides.  “What do you want to know?”

Zetian smiled, her eyes flickering with an unspoken command, and the storm outside dissipated and cleared away into nothing with the rapid flicker of an accelerated simulation. The sky above cleared into a panoply of stars, the distant glow of Lagash 3 – its light too far away to do more than gently illuminate the night – and the brilliant spray of astral arcologies and orbital installations which gleamed like fleet, too-bright gems against the velvet black of space. Twenty-one kilometers above the ground below, the air was thin enough that they twinkled only faintly, and the horizon seemed to stretch infinitely in every direction. “Have you ever,” she murmured so softly that the words seemed more a breath than something given voice, “seen anything so beautiful?”

“The outer curtain of the Orb Nebula from a distance of half a light year, through the viewport of one of Starfleet’s old Danube runabouts, the glow of young protostars illuminating the heavy gases in a rainbow of colors that swirled in the violent winds of the pulsar at the nebula’s core.  This is, however, a remarkably close second – and the most beautiful thing I have seen outside deep space.”  Eden exhaled slowly.  “It is breathtaking.”

“My birth-mother brought me up here, more times than I can count, and every time I looked into that sky and wondered where my mother’s ship was. What she was seeing out among those stars. I couldn’t want to leave, to throw myself out into that void and the coming war and make myself of service to the Republic.” Zetian shook her head ruefully, her eyes still cast upward. “Later, when I was a Captain myself, all I could see in that sky was all the plans that needed making to shield the world under my feet from her enemies. It’s only now that I have my own daughters, that I stand in this park often enough with them to see through their eyes, that I think I’m beginning to understand what she was trying to show me.”

“‘The glory of creation in its infinite diversity.’  I think the Vulcans have been good for us, as far as helping us to see the wonder that the universe shows us every time we look up.”  Eden tilted her head back, taking in the fullness of the sky.  “I’ll fight the Breen, Admiral – I have had plenty of positions offered to me already, and one of the most important qualifications for any posting I will accept after my exchange tour will be that, if this crisis is still happening, it must be on this border.  But I look forward to the time that I can, in good conscience, spend a year or more on the bridge of a starship that is cataloguing the beautiful things of the universe, studying them so that the knowledge they hold can be used for the betterment of all.”

They stood that way a long while, eyes cast up in silence, both coveting a universe that didn’t exist. One in which the dark and endless treasure house of wonders above them went untainted with blood and pain, one in which the pursuit of joy and knowledge and pleasure no longer needed to yield to the harsh yoke of duty. Then Zetian took in a deep breath, let it go, and closed her eyes. “Computer, end program.” The world dissolved into an amber checkerboard, and she stood for a full minute with her eyes closed before she opened them again and offered Eden a crisp smile. “Time to go back to work, Miss Enigma.”

Eden’s commbadge chimed.

Chapter 17

“Captain Surval.” Executor Li Ling an Hark turned to the Sovereign’s captain with a warm severity in her voice that suggested she might have been considering either pinning medals to him or rapping him across the knuckles. “I understand you’ve been keeping yourself and your ship quite busy for these last two months.”

“I have, though my crew seems eager to return to the border.”  Surval extended his hand to her.  “It is… difficult for us, to know that others are in the Valoris and we are here.”

“Considering how much you accomplished when you were last in the Valoris, I would certainly be pleased to see you there.” She released his hand, then gestured behind her. “Admiral Jenner requires no introductions, but allow me to present my Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Cáo Ning, and Minister Leran Ral of Bajor. They’ve both been kind enough to accompany me to this little gathering, which I hope we will all find productive.”

“A hope we all share, Executor.” Leran carried herself like a solider, the hard lines of years and rough living etched into her face, and the firm roughness in the way she shook Surval’s hand said Resistance with emphasis. “Thank you for allowing us to make use of the Sovereign, Captain.”

“It is an honor to have you aboard, Minister.”  Surval withdrew his hand after the shake.  “I was planning to begin formal meetings in the morning, to give everyone time to recover from their journies and to get to know one another in a less formal setting.  Would that be acceptable, Executor?”

“More than acceptable. It will give us all time to settle in, and to renew old acquaintances.” Zetian threw a glance over her shoulder at her escort, then flashed Surval a dry smile. “I imagine that discretion will difficult with an entourage like this, but whatever you can do to ensure our collective privacy would be welcome.”

“You will have privacy.  Each member of your entourage will receive individual quarters; only they and my command staff will have access to open them, and I will inform Commander Jackson that he is not to do so.”  He gestured to Eden.  “I have assigned Midshipwoman Enigma as your personal aide for the duration of your stay.  I understand that you enjoy conversation with brilliant people, and I expect that she will not disappoint you.”

“The same Midshipwoman who planned the Valoris operation? I imagine she certainly won’t.” Zetian smiled with a pleasure that was not quite predatory, then offered Eden a slight nod. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Enigma.”

“Thank you, Executor.”  Eden’s voice squeaked a little, as though she were distracted and surprised to be addressed.

A flash of amusement flared through Zetian at what she took to be the younger woman’s embarassment at being praised in such exalted company, but she seemed to dismiss the matter without giving it further thought. She offered Malen her attention instead, touching her shoulder in a formal gesture of salute popular on Cardassia several decades before. “Gul Malen. I trust that in spite of the unfortunate difficulty between the Cromwell and the Vorkal, the friendship between the Republic and the Union remains as strong as ever?”

“We are allies, as we have been since the Dominion War and were for some time before.”  Malen stepped forward.  “On that note… it is an honor to meet you, Executor.  My daughter asked that, should I meet you, I give you a list of questions she had about the War for her annual project in her history courses.”

“Please forward them to my quarters, then. Admiral Jenner and I will find time to go over them together and give your daughter a properly comprehensive set of answers.” Zetian’s smile was warm, and the rush of fond joy in her sense preceded her next words like an ocean washing across a warm shore. “Two of my own daughters are still of an age to participate in school projects, and I would personally rather be shot at by the Breen than come home without something I’d agreed to do for them.”

Eden reeled under a sudden influx of emotion from Jenner.  Pain, loss, pride, joy … they’re his daughters.  The Executor’s daughters are Captain Jenner’s daughters.  Captain Jenner has Lagashi daughters…

“I will give them to Midshipwoman Enigma, then, and she can deliver them to you when you have time for them.”  Malen smiled radiantly.  “Thank you, Executor.”

“On that happy note, I personally would like to retire to bed.” Zetian’s smile of bemused regret was artful, and utterly false. “I’ve had a very long journey, and the opportunity for a few hours uninterrupted rest strikes me as a very welcome one. If Admiral Jenner will consent to showing me the way, Gul Malen, I can leave Midshipwoman Enigma to pick up your questions and release her to her other duties until morning.”

Jenner offered Zetian his arm, a gesture with every appearance of being merely friendly and perhaps a bit chivilric.  “If you will accompany me…”

“To the ends of the galaxy, my friend.” Zetian slipped her arm across his, her smile warm, and they went out together with the bright wave of their pleasure in each other lingering like a thick perfume in the air that only Eden could smell.

The Marines went with them, falling into escort naturally, and Cáo Ning shook her head with a hint of amusement before offering Surval a smile. “Perhaps you’ll show me to the mess, Captain? I rested well enough on the trip, but I confess that I’ve missed a few more meals than my wives would approve of.”

“Of course, Admiral.”  Surval turned on one heel to lead her down the corridor, and Minister Leran followed them out with the air of a woman who had long ago learned never to pass up a good chance to eat.

“Well, Gul Malen… I suppose we should go and fetch those questions from your daughter.”  Eden smiled, suddenly a bit nervous at being left alone with the tall Cardassian.

“Of course.”  Malen gestured for Eden to follow.  “So… what can you tell me of Commander Reese?”

Did my day have to get any more complicated?  Eden forced her sigh to silence, following the Cardassian closely.

USS Sovereign, Deck 2
Stardate: 2387.363, Ship’s Time: 1300

Personal aide to the Executor of the Lagashi Republic.  Captain Surval has an odd idea of what the phrase ‘light duty’ means.  Eden stood to the side of the turbolift car, letting Surval and Fleet Captain Jenner dominate its central space.  Between the stories my father told about working with dignitaries and the stories the Major has told me about Li Ling Zetian an Hark, I expect that I will be wishing for a Hazard Team operation to lower my blood pressure and provide relaxation by the end of this.

And what is the purpose of this conference?  The Bajorans, Cardassians, Lagashi, Fleet Captain Jenner, even a Ferengi… this has the silence of a back channels operation, but the cast of characters one would expect in a major diplomatic conference.  Something is wrong here, and I don’t know what.

“The heroes of the Breen front, on one ship.”  Malen spoke almost wistfully, her eyes distant.  “William Jenner, Xian Lihwa, Li Ling Zetian an Hark… the only one missing is Tan Liu, and all the names from this front that my daughter has been writing to me about learning of in school would be present.  I wonder if I could convince the Executor to answer some questions for Mila’s research paper.”

“It never hurts to ask.”  Jenner spoke quietly, and Eden felt her attention drawn to him.  He’s nervous.  Seeing an old friend for the first time in a long while?  No… more than that.  He’s… raw.  Usually, it is harder to read him than this… he holds things further from the surface.  Now, I could no more avoid reading him than a full-blooded human could avoid reading a road sign painted to grab attention.  It could be stress from the conference…

The turbolift opened, and Jenner led the others from it, toward the transporter room.  Two Captains and a senior Gul here now, with a representative of the First Minister and the Executor of the Lagashi Republic set to join us at any moment.  I will say absolutely nothing unless I’m spoken to… and will especially avoid the subject of award ribbons.

Anyone passing by would interpret the silence among the senior officers as uncomfortable, but as far as Eden could tell they all seemed mostly to be lost in their own thoughts, with the exception of Jenner.  Something’s eating at him.  I wish he would deal with it… it’s making me nervous.

Surval’s commbadge toned as they reached the transporter room door, and he stopped to tap it lightly. “Surval.”

Lisa Hearns’s voice filtered out, tinged with an edge of tension and wonder. “We have the LSN Madison on long-range sensors, Captain. Estimate ten seconds to transport – looks like they’re maneuvering to hit us with the transporter data without dropping out of warp. I hope they’ve got a hot operator, sir, because this is going to to be exciting.”

“We will meet our guests at the transporter room.  Thank you, Lisa.  Once our guests are aboard, switch sensors to passive only.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Captain. Captain. Gul. Ensign.” Janice Sokolov looked up from her console long enough to offer the four of them each a nod, then returned her eyes to her controls with the taut focus of a runner waiting for a relay. They call it transwarp beaming… different meaning of ‘transwarp’ than for engine technology.  Montgomery Scott was the first to achieve it… while transporting between two locations outside warp is easy, and transport between two locations which are both moving at similar warp factors only slightly complicated, true transwarp beaming – where one location is moving at superlight speed and the other is stationary or moving at sublight speed – is something that, even with modern computer assistance, is only done when absolutely necessary and with highly-trained experts.  Miss Sokolov is about to join a club that has about a dozen living members – Starfleet officers who have conducted a transwarp transport.  Eden exhaled slowly.  This is likely to be the only time in my career that I see this happen.

The last few seconds trickled away, and then the sharp golden flare of the Sovereign’s transporters mingled with the blue-silver of the Lagashi’s transporter array as Sokolov ‘caught’ the beam and resolved it into five vertical lines of light, and then into four Lagashi and a single Bajoran. Li Ling Zetian an Hark, flanked by a taller woman in the uniform of a Lagashi Admiral and a pair of Marines in full armor, stepped down off the pad with only the slightest glance at Leran Ral to assure herself that the Bajoran Minster of Defense was safe. She had fine, sharp-edged features that were still beautiful, despite being well past her sixtieth birthday, and her short ebony hair was touched only lightly with gray and the first hints of silver at her temples. In lieu of the Star Navy uniform in which she’d spent most of her life, she wore a simple jumpsuit of black synthetic fabric in a vaguely military cult, and her gray-blue eyes were as compelling and piercingly intelligent as rumor made them out to be. She commanded the room instantly, as if the mere act of stepping off the platform had reoriented the galaxy around her, and Eden felt her breath catch in her throat.

Then the Executor’s eyes met William Jenner’s, and the flood of emotion that flared up in her nearly knocked Eden off her feet. It was a bright heat, the kind of fire that flared across a lover’s skin at the moment of purest joy, and it flickered and danced with a schoolgirl’s laughing delight – as if she were a half-century younger, and the first boy she’d ever wanted was offering her his arms in invitation. Whatever she said in formal greeting washed by unheard, the friendly sobriety of her smile practically painful in its flagrant untruth – it was a shell of iced metal holding back the heart of a star.

Friedman’s light… she’s in love with him.  Then she turned away from Zetian, trying to hide the blush she was certain was climbing up her cheeks, and her eyes fell on Captain Jenner.  Beneath the well-practiced professional demeanor he displayed to the non-empaths in the room, he glowed with joy and pleasure at the sight of Zetian.  It was the feel of a young man looking at the woman he was sure he would marry.  No… not in love.  They’re lovers.  Fleet Captain Jenner – the most influential advocate of aggressive action against the Breen in Starfleet, who has been tasked with maintaining stability in the Lagashi Sector, and Li Ling Zetian an Hark, the greatest enemy the Breen have and the Executor of the Lagashi Republic, are lovers.  Does Captain Surval know?  Does anyone know?  Eden swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain still, to show none of her thoughts on her face.

The Executor and Fleet Captain shook hands firmly, her hand clapping his shoulder like an old friend’s, and the electric burst of desire between them nearly knocked the air of her lungs. Then Zetian drew back, letting his hand fall with a world of regret and anticipation in her heart, and Eden couldn’t begin to understand how no one else saw the promise in her eyes.

USS Sovereign, The Collingwood Arms
Stardate: 2387.362, Ship’s Time: 1745

“….So then he shoots a look at me, turns back to the Captain, puts on his most sorrowful face without trying to fix either of our uniforms, and says ‘I regret to inform you, sir, that the first test of the personal cloaking device has been a complete failure.’” Chief Warrant Officer Varesh bared her teeth in a predator’s grin, downed a generous swallow of her bloodwine, and slammed it back on the table. “I knew at that moment I had to have him.”

Elizabeth Baker, who was so fresh from her shift in the Pit that she hadn’t had time to change into a fresh uniform, nearly sprayed cold tea over her tablemates as the image reduced her to helpless laughter, and Jaeih shook her head with an expression of mixed wonder and dread on her usually-unreadable face.  Quel, who was holding his head in his hand to bury his own laughter, lifted it with a grin of his own. “It was the first thing I could think of, devrana. Fortunately, he seemed sufficiently amused to allow us to escape unpunished.”

“Not quite unpunished, blood of my heart. He did make you hold attention for a good two minutes first, and then tell us both that we had better ‘go and cover up its failings.’” The Spinomite female flashed her mate a particularly malicious grin. “It was sufficient provocation for me to decide some revenge was in order, in any case.”

“So it was you who spiked my replicator with prey pheremones. I always suspected it had to be someone of your low and treacherous character.”

“Not knowing didn’t stop you from rigging my console to play that horribly annoying Earth song every time I loaded data a week later, now did it?”

“A pure gesture of celebration, my star. How could you not have appreciated ‘Happy Birthday’?”

“Okay, stop there.  Just… stop.”  Yumi Sato shook her head, taking a long sip of her raktijino.  “You’re making me both deeply disturbed and a little jealous, and I’m not sure what to do with that.”

“Jealous is not the term I would use…”  Jaeih shook her head.  “Morbidly fascinated, perhaps?”

Sable, who had been occupied consuming a strange violet paste that smelled something like burnt metal, lifted its head and clacked its mouth parts for attention. “This one is not sure that this one understands the purpose of this sequence of irrational behaviors. Is this normal courting behavior among the Spinomite species?”

“Oh, definitely.” Quel’s expression turned wickedly merry. “We all court by tormenting each other with party tricks and brightly colored pieces of plastic coated with itch cream, then formally seal our mating promise by vowing to torment exactly six thousand unsuspecting individuals. I’m on four thousand three hundred now, and as soon as I reach my goal, Varesh swears she’ll allow us to have children. She already reached hers, you see, thanks to a brilliant use of a worm in the Starfleet Command communications network that played the Dominion national anthem and celebratory trumpets every time a simulation resulted in a sub-optimal outcome.”

“Given that I would have heard about that last if it had happened, I’m led to believe that you are lying about about all of that.  Thus, I put forth an alternate hypothesis.”  Cynthia Roberts smirked.

“And what is that, Cynthia?”  Sato returned the smirk.

“Both Quel and Varesh are insane, enough so that they deserve each other.”

Jaieh offered a sagely nod.  “I believe the evidence supports your conclusion, Ensign, and intend to recommend that you be issued a full set of blue uniforms immediately in honor of your obvious scientific talent.”

Quel offered his mate a long-suffering sigh. “You see? No respect at all. When you become an officer, you’d think people will look up to you, but with my subordinates it’s nothing but disrespect and mockery. How can I be expected to run an operation under these conditions?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage somehow, devran.” Varesh hid a smile behind her glass. “Meanwhile, we Chiefs and Warrant Officers will make sure that the Starfleet continues to thrive in spite of her officers.”

“Not to mention Ensigns.”  Cynthia swallowed a long drink of synthale.  “I’m terrified of what I expect to happen to my skills when I’m promoted.”

“Gone in an instant.”  Yumi laughed.  “I’m half-convinced they remove a third of your brain when you take that hollow pip, and only replace it when you make Commander.  Junior officers are the second most frustrating people in Starfleet.”

“Who are the first?”  Cynthia tilted her head.

“Overly-talented cadets.” Elizabeth and Yumi put in the punchline at the same moment, then gave each other a look of such obvious surprise that everyone else at the table fell about themselves laughing. Baker recovered first, dropping her voice to a warm alto, and gave Yumi a soulful look. “Obviously, being of like minds, we’ll have to follow the Lieutenant and Varesh’s example. Marry me, Miss Sato.”

“I’ll need a dinner and a dance first, or, failing that, a snack and a roll in your bunk.”  Yumi laughed.  “Though we’ll also have to wait for them to reissue your mind to you…”  She paused.  “You’re a lieutenant, and we’re of like minds… I’m doomed.”

“Don’t worry, Yumi. We all knew you’d lost most of your mind long before now.” Quel patted her hand with fatherly concern. “I’ll make sure to assign Midshipwoman Enigma to counsel you about the trauma of the revelation.”

“Anyone but her…”  Yumi shook her head.  “I like Enigma well enough, but… anyone but her.  I don’t suppose you could recruit Thot Thanget?”

“I’m sure something could be arranged.” Varesh feigned a thoughtful expression. “Of course, then Major Xian would shoot him and you for talking to him. Still, that would settle your trauma, and you wouldn’t wake up a workaholic.”

Quel flashed her an affectionate smile full of sharp teeth. “Now, lovely carrion, that’s hardly fair. Enigma isn’t a workaholic, she’s just relaxation-challenged. Why, I saw her spend an entire five minutes on leisure once, and… since when does the Commander have a Cardassian girlfriend?”

“The Commander doesn’t have a…”  Cynthia trailed off, blinking in the direction of the door.

At the bar, Commander Reese and a Cardassian Gul who was, if such a thing was possible, even taller than she was, were ordering drinks from Kator with a closeness that would certainly have supported Quel’s suggestion. Alexandria leaned over and murmured something to the Gul, perhaps a joke, and the Cardassian threw her head back with a deep, low chuckle that carried across the room.

“Well, it seems that perhaps Miss Enigma doesn’t get everything she wants.”  Yumi shook her head with a small smirk.  “Is that Gul Malen?”

“It looks like Malen, but I’ve never seen her smile. Obviously it’s a Changeling substitute.” Quel mimed reaching for his phaser. “Excuse me, all, I have to go and save the Commander from a grisly doom….” Then the doors hissed open again, admitting Major Xian with her arm around a Lagashi woman whose uniform was trimmed in Marine red, and Quel threw his hands up in an exasperated gesture. “Never mind, then. The Captain has obviously decided to start shipping in female entertainment for the senior officers by the shipload.”

“Where’s my promotion?”  Cynthia watched the Lagashi officer with more than passing interest.

A moment later, the door opened again, admitting Surval and William Jenner, with Jenner speaking quite animatedly on the subject of black holes.  Quel looked at them for a long moment, looked at this tablemates, back at the new arrivals, then banged his horned head against the table with an audible crack. “I give up. There must be a proper joke to make about one’s Captain and a superior officer that doesn’t run afoul of regulations, but I can’t think of one that doesn’t carry an image I don’t wish to imagine.”

“There, there.” Varesh patted his shoulder, lips pulling back over her teeth. “I’m sure the thought of Captain Surval volunteering to probe any black holes Captain Jenner might like will leave you eventually.”

“… Stay away from airlocks, Warrant Officer, because everyone at this table is going to remember you putting that thought into our minds, and revenge will one day be ours.”  Jaeih’s lips curled in the sort of grin only a Romulan could manage.

Quel, his head still against the table, only groaned softly. “I’ll help.”

USS Sovereign, Main Bridge
Stardate: 2387.362, Ship’s Time: 10:35

The turbolift hissed, and Lieutenant Hearns stalked across the bridge to the Ops station with a light rap of her knuckles against the brown carapace of Chief Braael. “Stand down, Chief. I’ll take the rest of the shift.”

The dronomorph turned his head toward Lisa, offering her a small nod.  His face was triangular, with the point that made contact with his torso – he had no visible neck – forming a nearly perfect right angle, a trait considered desirable among his people.  Two wide, faceted compound eyes gazed unblinking, their amber depths bringing to mind stories of Risian summer sunsets, and his eight simple eyes – four on each side, running along the upper vertices of his chitinous, angular head – blinked in a pattern that indicated relief.  He pushed himself to his feet, his knees straightening from their reversed bend, and gave her a gesture of thanks with four-fingered hands.  “I shall take my leave, then.  I will see you at the end of my shift tomorrow.”

In spite of her mood, which was obviously foul, Lisa managed a smile for her subordinate. “Enjoy your off hours, Chief. Just don’t try to brew any more of that ale of yours without clearing it through Engineering and Damage Control.”

“I have no desire to dissolve my way into someone’s holodeck fantasy again, Lieutenant.”  Braeel walked to the turbolift on long, limber legs, and Lisa shook her head with silent amusement that lasted an entire minute before the memory of her argument with Michael stole it.

More trouble there. Alexandria filed Lisa’s obvious distress is the back of her mind while she waited for Surval to finish reviewing the PADD she’d brought up to the bridge. The usual day to day business, though instances of personnel conflict and scheduled appointments with the counseling department were up. We might be glad for the rest, but the crew’s frustrated with being trapped away from where the action is. If something really does break loose on the Breen border and we’re not sent in….

She brushed the idea away. The day’s worries are enough for the day.

“I understand that V’ket has requested two days of leave, but has not asked for the use of a shuttle.  Is the reason medical?”  Surval looked up from his PADD, eyebrow subtly arched.

“Believe it or not, it’s apparently a holiday. According to what I could find in the databases, he’s going to spend the time contemplating a collection of still images of his life, from egg to his most recent promotion ceremony. Then he makes a webbing sculpture designed to resemble him and eats it.” Alexandria’s eyes danced with dry amusement.

“We should be glad that Cadet Enigma is not on the bridge to hear that.  I expect that her barely-restrained urge to flee the chamber at the thought would be rather embarrassing to her.”  Surval’s lips quirked in that barely-perceptible smile that colored his face at particularly amusing thoughts.

“Now if only I’d thought of that. Do you suppose I could bring her up here and convincingly bring it up again?” Alexandria laughed softly, allowing herself the moment of fancy. “It would be worth the extra counseling reports just to see her eyes pop out and all the blood drain out of her…”

“Security alert, computer security alert!” Lieutenant Hearns snapped upright in her chair, fingers flashing against her console as she tracked the sudden shifts in system functions across the ship. “We’ve logged a single tight-beam transmission, no determined origin, and the whole external communications system has locked itself down – everything, even individual commbadge transmitters that try to talk to something outside the hull. We’re mute as a post, Captain!”

Alexandria’s fingers clenched, and she had to bite down on a snapped order to secure the main computer until the cause could be determined. If someone’s hacked our communications controls, they’re damned close to cracking the main encrypt on the computer, which would let them vent the atmosphere or wipe every jot of non-classified data right off the chips. We need to isolate and contain the infection, identify the source, map response….

“Drop us out of warp and power down warp engines.  Flash the exterior running lights… three pulses, two seconds each, with a gap of 1.5 seconds between them.”  Surval’s voice was tight, but there was no hesitation to it.  “Do not raise shields or power weapons.”

Ensign Markowski on the helm obeyed instantly and reflexively, bringing the ship to a full relative stop within a few hundred AUs, but Lisa threw a look over her shoulder at the Captain first, then Alexandria. When the Commander gave her a single sharp nod, confirming the order, she brought her fingers very carefully away from the shield controls and tapped in the command for the running lights. “Flashing now, Captain,” she said, in a voice that suggested she was still considering the possibility that her commanding officer had lost his Vulcan mind. Then she let out a breath, burying a soft exclamation of surprise, and tapped in a verification request. “Starship decloaking off the port bow - Defiant-class. I read her as the USS Monitor, currently flagged to Task Force 72, Geoffrey Soto commanding. No hail detected, not that we could read it or respond to it if we tried.”

“Transporter room 2, prepare to receive guests.”  Surval leaned forward.  “Commander, with me.  Miss Hearns, the bridge is yours.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Alexandria fell in beside her Captain silently, following him into the turbolift, and waited until the door was soundly closed before turning to him with her arms folded and the sort of expression nannies reserve for their most boisterous and troublesome charges.

“We are to play host to a conference of the region’s allied commanders.  The conference is taking place in secret – sufficiently deeply classified that I was the only member of Sovereign’s crew cleared to know of it until the arrival of the delegates.  We will remain under communication lockdown for the duration, only transmitting if we come under distress, and remain powered down to prevent us from being found.  Captain Jenner requested this personally; we will also be joined by the Executor, Gul Malen, and the Bajoran Minister of Defense, Leran Ral.”

“Captain….” How do I ask ‘Is this conference legal? Is Command even aware of it?’ without being obligated to act if I discover I don’t like the answers? Alexandria rocked slowly on her feet, then nodded slightly. “Well very, sir. I’ll make sure we’re sealed up as tight as a drum.”

“There are questions that are best not to ask, Commander, and the number of them seems to grow with each successive promotion.”  Surval stepped from the lift, walking quickly toward the transporter room, and Alexandria followed him with the faintest hint of a smile on her face. When did ducking around in political back-alleys start to feel normal?

The door hissed open before they reached it, and Kuroki Chan Shi stepped through it in full armor, a heavy powergun slung over one shoulder but within reach. Alexandria started to slide to a stop, automatically reaching for the phaser that wasn’t actually at her side before the Lagashi Colonel’s hand game up in a sharp salute that she found herself returning. Immediately behind the Colonel was Fleet Captain William Jenner, who offered Alexandria a nod before turning to Surval.  “It’s good to be here, Surval.”

“We are honored to have you aboard, sir.”  Surval clasped Jenner’s hand tightly.

“Thought not entirely pleased, I imagine.” Lynn Huntsman and a dark-haired ensign brought up the rear of the party, and the tall blond Commander greeted Surval and Alexandria in turn with a firm handshake. “Nobody likes to hang around like a hole in space if they can avoid it.”

“Sovereign knows her business, Commander. We’ll make a very quiet hole.” Alexandria pushed down a flash of reflexive dislike as their hands met – as bad an impression as Commander Huntsman had made on their first meeting, she’d more than made up for it commanding the Atlantia against the Breen since.

“You’d better.  The Breen are still officially our allies, or at least our trading partners, and having them learn that this conference is happening…”  The plaintive voice came from a short man – short even for a Ferengi – with long, dangling earlobes holding at least a dozen earrings and carrying the staff of the Grand Nagus.  “Plen, representative of Nagus Rom.  The Alliance is… concerned… about matters on the border.  Thot Prel has attacked two of our valued trading partners, and has even taken a Ferengi freighter carrying nonmilitary assets outside Breen space.”

“Besides,” Kuroki observed with a certain acid amusement, “war is good for business.”

“Only if you’re not actively fighting it.”  Plen shook his head.  “The Breen don’t tend to even leave remains to dessicate and sell.  If there’s going to be a war, trust me – it’s in our best interests to see it over quickly, and with the Breen on the losing side.”

“At least there is one thing we can all agree on, then.”  Gul Malen simply towered over Plen, her voice that of a swaying serpent.  “Though I still say that there is no ‘if’ to this – there are no mutually agreeable terms, and the sooner the Federation realizes that, the sooner we can get to finishing this.”

Alexandria caught the subtle nod of the agreement from Kuroki, the flash of regret in Huntsman’s eyes, and felt a chill go down her spine. They all think it’s coming – even Huntsman. What’s been happening out there while Sovereign has been playing scientific explorer and policing pirates?

“The VIP quarters have been set aside and assigned.”  Surval’s voice cut into the beginning of Plen’s response.  “I suggest that everyone find their way to those quarters and rest… you have had a long journey aboard one of Starfleet’s less-comfortable vessels.  Sovereign’s full services are available to you, as is the hospitality of our crew.  The Executor’s vessel is due to arrive within the day, and I expect that she would appreciate us delaying any formal meetings until she can join us.”

“Any plans made without Zetian about will likely be wasted time, anyway.”  Jenner offered a wry smile.  “She has a habit of throwing plans out as she enters rooms; we’ll all save some frustration if we don’t have any plans until she’s here.”

Kuroki’s chuckle was warm and dry. “The voice of personal experience, Admiral?”

“Quite a lot of such.”  Jenner laughed softly.  “However, I do suggest that we meet later, informally.  I have always wanted to visit Sovereign’s lounge… might I suggest that we do so at 1800?”

“That seems… agreeable.”  Surval tilted his head.  “Should I clear the room?”

“I don’t think so… having your crew about will keep us from talking shop.”  Jenner nodded, giving the words the strength of an order without actually making them such.  “Until then… I, for one, have a spine that doesn’t stand up to Defiant bunks nearly as well as it did during the war, so I will be in my quarters.”

They fell out as if the words were a formal dismissal, Kuroki silently volunteering to show Plen to his quarters with just a hint of teeth in her smile and the ensign – Clark, Alexandria thought, though she couldn’t be certain – escorted Jenner while the senior captain and Surval exchanged a few more pleasantries. That left Alexandria alone with Malen, and she offered the Gul a formal smile that she hoped looked more friendly and less anxious than she felt. The sheer height of the Cardassian woman hardly helped. “May I show your to your quarters, ma’am?”

“That would be… pleasant.  Thank you, Commander.”  Malen fell into step beside Alexandria.  “I have never been aboard one of Starfleet’s explorers before… I am quite interested to learn about life on them.”

“I imagine shipboard life is much the same anywhere, but I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting an operational Keldon or Galor.” Alexandria managed to warm her voice, which should have been easier; the Cardassians were their allies now, and had been for over a decade. Which doesn’t actually wash away the memory of how many times they and the Jem’hadar sent my father to the medics during the Dominion War. Maybe we’re more like the Lagashi than we’d like to admit. She bit down on a hint of disappointment at her own irrational anger, and silently resolved to prove it was exactly that – an irrational vestige of the past, and nothing more. “If you’re not too tired from travel, I’d be happy to arrange some time for you on one of our holodecks, or offer you the hospitality of the officer’s mess.”

“Holodecks are a prime example of the difference, Commander… Cardassian cruisers do not have them.  There is a small recreational area, but for the most part relaxation is to be found with friends in one’s quarters or on leave.  Our military technology is less advanced than yours – engines, shield generators, even our phaser arrays all take up significantly more of the space on our warships, leaving little room for amenities without increasing the mass of the vessel to a degree that it would impact combat effectiveness.”  Malen folded her hands behind her back.  “Our cruises must be kept shorter than those of Starfleet’s heavy cruisers and explorers for that reason – even with Cardassian discipline, maintaining order with so little distraction is… difficult.”

“I imagine it must be, especially when so much of your crew is there under compulsory service. Though I can’t imagine any Cardassian wants to fail to do his or her duty to the State,” she thanked her reading silently, because implying that to a Cardassian would have been offensive at best, “it must be an extra layer of tension for the junior officers to deal with in their subordinates.”

“I have had a few conscripts who have required… reminders… of the importance of their duty to Cardassia.”  Malen shook her head.  “But, for the most part, they do their duty as well as they are able – it is talent that is the chief problem with compulsory service.  Starfleet ships seem to run more efficiently than ours, but our population is small enough, and we have suffered enough defeats over the past few decades…”  She paused, parsing the rest of what she had to say.  “Morale in the Cardassian military has been low since our first defeat at the hands of the Federation, and later conflicts with the Klingons, Dominion, and Romulans have worsened the problem.  As much as I dislike saying this… I am not a Klingon.  I do not crave bloodshed and war.  But, in many ways… Cardassia needs war with the Breen, at the side of the Federation.  We need the reminder of why we hold this alliance, but even more, we need a victory.  Starfleet’s aid has prevented us from dying a death of economics or military defeat, but the spirit of my people is fading.  We need our pride, Commander.”

Alexandria might have tried to argue that there were other sources of pride – in caring for one’s family, in taming uncharted words, in the creation of beauty – but the words stopped in her throat at the stoic, worn-in grief in the other woman’s voice. She thought about the reports she’d read from officers stationed on Cardassia about the devastation in the streets after the war, about the cold, clinical legalise of the official Federation Relief Agency projections describing the Cardassian economic recovery, and it made her shiver. We’ve been lucky: Earth’s never had to survive a defeat like that. I’m not sure I want to imagine what it would do to us, and the more I look at her the more I don’t want to try.

She laid a hand on Malen’s arm, instead, and offered her a small smile. “I, for one, am glad to have you on our side this time. In honor of which, why don’t I take you to lunch and show you the ship?”

“I would like that very much, Commander.”  Malen returned the smile.  “I expect that the future of Cardassia will be won aboard ships very similar to this, given the technological exchanges currently taking place.  I look forward to a glimpse into what is to come.”