Tales from Cardassia
jonileth
Member
Post-Dominion War Cardassia, and the Union as a whole, is a ghost of its former glory. With their infrastructure obliterated by the occupation by Dominion forces, their people left starving and without the means to support themselves, the Detapa Council turned to their ‘liberators’, namely the Federation and their allies, for aid and relief following the end of the war. Such aid is rendered, though not without conditions; namely that the Cardassian people forget any ambitions of extending their grasp to worlds under Federation protection, including but not limited to Bajor. Given their desperation to have their worlds returned to self-sufficiency, it wasn’t a hard bargain to strike. This led to a cold war of sorts, with the Cardassian government allowing Federation backed trade vessels into their space while turning their expansionist eyes toward the other side of the Alpha Quadrant rather than toward Federation space.
This tacite peace lasted right up until the events of Utopia Planetia attack in 2385, when the policies of the Federation suddenly shifted to matters of the internal state rather than those of external relations with other governments. Just as the Romulans found themselves abandoned when the Federation gave up on the rescue fleet, so too did the Cardassians find themselves suddenly abandoned by their ‘benefactors’. This begins the Detapa Council’s slow decline in power.
In the first few years after the Federation aid petered out, the Council was able to find means and methods to gloss over the loss of goods that had been almost a staple for the various worlds as they continued to rebuild and refocus their efforts and energies on reaching the oft stated goal of complete self-reliance that the Union had enjoyed prior to the Dominion War. But these measures were only a temporary fix to a problem they had never wanted to admit, that being that they had grown dependent on Federation assistance, relying on them to provide for them the very things they had promised their people they would be able to provide for themselves.
The Central Command, throughout these early years, had been browbeaten and tossed to the side, a ‘relic of the past’ according to the Council. The old warmongering military officers were given little in the way of support and resources to rebuild their military might, a calculated move by the Detapa Council to limit their ability to threaten their lofty position as providers for the people. When resources elsewhere began to grow scarce, the Central Command took it as their que that the Council had finally reached the limits of their grandiose promises and that the time was ripe for them to swoop in and take the power they’d been stripped of back.
Whether by deceit, machinations, or outright murder, the leaders of the Central Command began to build a foothold, inciting a great many worlds within the Union to begin demanding that the Council relinquish their hold on aspects of governance that they had previously held sole dominion over since the end of the war thanks to the Cardassian military being disgraced so thoroughly. By the early 2390s, both the Detapa Council and Central Command could be said to have had equal footing when it came to which of them held power in the Cardassian Union.
Not to be outdone, the Detapa Council decided that the Obsidian Order would help to break the stalemate that had begun to stieme the government. By the middle of the year in 2395, the Obsidian Order had infiltrated the ranks of the Central Command, their numbers soon large enough to control Cardassia Prime itself, and a large number of military installations in the surrounding space. Their insidious and effective infiltration put Central Command on the backfoot, sending the major players into a panic over how they would recover from the crippling loss of the home system.
With this newfound security, the Detapa Council decides that they are strong enough to reopen their relations with the Federation, a rather thinly veiled attempt to pull in much needed resources that had been lacking for nearly a decade at this point. Their overtures were met with mixed results, given that the Cardassians weren’t willing to give much up other than a promise to continue their non-aggressive policies toward Federation holdings in exchange for trade being reestablished. With some flow of goods finally returned to the Cardassian economy, the Council believes itself finally to be in a position to bring Central Command to heel once and for all.
It doesn’t take long before the Central Command becomes desperate enough to act. They begin organizing raids on the trade vessels, at first little more than pirate style raids in stolen vessels untraceable to the Cardassian Union. When these raids are met with very little in the way of response from either side, the scale and breadth for which they reach grows far more ambitious and bold. By 2398, Cardassian ships were leading massive raids on transport convoys, resulting in a great many lives lost in the endeavor. This garners the attention Central Command had been hoping for.
The Federation cut off all trade with the Cardassian Union, blaming the Detapa Council for orchestrating the savage brutality that their convoys endured. The Council immediately denies involvement in the raids, going so far as to point to their own military leaders as the culprits of said raids. This impassioned denial falls on deaf ears, and the Federation revokes the trade agreement they made with the Council, and ostensibly cut the Union off from all but the most unscrupulous and untrustworthy smugglers.
Having been robbed of their support, and in turn being substantially weakened by the action of Central Command, the Detapa Council orders the Obsidian Order to begin hunting down those responsible for the raids.
Comments
The following events transpired around the time of the TF72 July/August Report
[Detapa Council Chambers, Cardassia Prime]
[Sometime in Mid-July, 2399]
The Council chambers were in an uproar, with the various elected Cardassian officials hurling everything from insults and obscenities to blame and condemnation at one another over the news that had just been put out by the Chairman of the Council, a woman known to them as Ila Rekal. She’d been the one to speak with the Federation representatives regarding the recent incident within Cardassian space, or more to the point, the ships from Central Command that dared to violate the non-aggression agreement that had been in place since the end of the Dominion War.
The blame being hurled about wasn’t, as one would immediately assume, over who was responsible for the transgression itself. Everyone in the room knew exactly who was responsible for that act in question, the blame being thrown about centered entirely on who was to be blamed for allowing Central Command to continue to exist. Though no one in the room could actually be expected to have taken on such a task, given the nature of the power dynamic between the two organizations within the Union, it didn’t stop people from trying their hardest to assign guilt to someone.
“Enough!” Rekal said as she slammed her fist into the desk she was seated behind, “The current dilemma isn’t a matter of who shall carry the burden of guilt over what happened, it is how we will move forward. The Federation has already seen fit to cut off what little in the way of trade we had managed to salvage in the wake of the Romulan fiasco. Thanks to that, we are woefully behind schedule with our reconstruction efforts on a great many outlying worlds within the Union.”
Rekal took a moment to let the information sink in to some of the more obstinate members of the Council before continuing, “This open hostility into Federation territory was no doubt in response to our own efforts to wrest control of military assets here on Cardassia Prime. It has already been confirmed by our Obsidian Order agents, which means that regardless of the truth of this report, that is what is to be said by all in this Council. Retaliation is now the topic for the day, ladies and gentlemen, and nothing more.”
One of the Councilmen, Kulem, stood up so as to be formally recognized by the Chairman. When Rekal gave him a curt nod, the man turned toward his fellows with a stern look on his face.
“In the last few years, the Legates of Central Command have been slowly losing their grip on our people’s favor. Our own policies, ones that have continually brought stability and contentment to our people, have been the guiding light for those whom the Council represents. This blatant act of aggression is not simply aggression against the Council, but against the Cardassian people! The warmongers of Central Command have only their own ambitions in mind when they cross the borders of the Union to seek hostility with foriegn powers. They care nothing for the consequences that our people must suffer! Need we be reminded of the cost we paid in blood at the hands of the Dominion, brought upon us by those who led Central Command even three decades ago?”
A great many voices cried out in angry agreement at the statement. There wasn’t a man or woman in the room who hadn’t paid for the Dominion Occupation, whether it was with their own blood, or the blood of someone they cared for. Even this far removed from those events, their sting was still tangible, which made it good for stirring up support. Rekal couldn’t quite stifle the smirk that tugged at her lips as the room shifted just in the direction she’d hoped it would.
“Thank you, Councilman Kulem, for reminding us all of the heavy price we paid for allowing Central Command to drag the Cardassian people behind their selfish ambitions,” Rekal said, which prompted the man to take his seat once more.
Rekal stood up from her seat, something she rarely did when addressing the Council, “We must combat the threat posed by Central Command with all of the tools we have at our disposal. We must show not just the Federation, but the entire quadrant, that the people of the Cardassian Union are not easily dominated by violent aggressors, whether they come from outside or from within. Our response must be swift, powerful, and irrefutable. We must use Central Command’s own tactics against them, and borrow from those outside our borders as well. We have seen before how well the ideas of others have worked on those war hungry bastards in the past, I do not seriously believe that they will have changed their ways in all the years that have followed their decline.”
A worried voice called out from the crowd, “You can’t possibly mean…”
“That is precisely what I mean,” Rekal nodded, her lips twisting into a rather nefarious smirk, “We shall do the very thing that Central Command fears the most…”
[Briefing Room, Xepok Nor]
[Concurrent with the Council Meeting]
The atmosphere within the briefing room was a mixture of elation and apprehension. While their raid into Federation space had been interrupted by agents from the Council, namely the dogs of the newly formed Obsidian Order, they had still managed to secure the response they had been looking for, namely that the Federation had pulled their meager support from the Council. There wasn’t a Legate in the room that didn’t imagine this to be little more than a temporary victory at best, but neither could they deny that such a victory wouldn’t be a boon to their cause, should they be able to take advantage of it.
Seated at the head of the table was Legate Tenal, the senior most Legate in the meeting. He had been silently watching as his fellow Legates were discussing the recent actions with a great deal of optimistic banter. Not everyone in the room was so elated, to include Tenal himself. Off to his right, the Legate for whom the ships had been dispatched from also sat silently as the rest of the room carried on in revelry. If anyone should have been happy that things had panned out well, it should have been Legate Kudred, but strangely he wore a somber expression.
“It was almost too easy…” Tenal muttered just loud enough that Kudred picked up on it.
The Legate had to agree with the statement, his ships may have been intercepted by agents of the Obsidian Order, but their ability to infiltrate so boldly into Federation territory didn’t sit well with him. Having no real intelligence regarding Federation internal politics at the moment, it was hard to say if the events that had transpired hadn’t been a calculated or even orchestrated series of events. And if that were true, the elation being felt at having achieved some measure of success against the machinations of the Council might actually be wholly hollow.
“Be that as it may,” Kudred finally spoke up, “We can’t ignore the reaction of the Federation. The Council has been cut off. This much is certain. No matter how rigidly they now guard the trade corridor between Cardassia Prime and Bajor, no more ships will be going through it. All the assurances of safety the Council cares to make will likely fall on deaf ears… at least for a time.”
“And how we use that time will be crucial…” Tenal said in a low voice before taking in a deep breath.
“Legates, I believe we need to set our sights on what happens next, rather than growing drunk on what has already happened,” Tenal said, bringing the room to order, “This small victory does not change our current situation by any real measure. Cardassia Prime is still held by the Council and their Obsidian Order dogs. We will need to further disrupt their activities if we truly wish to return to our rightful place in the Union.”
Almost every Legate in the room began to nod in agreement with the statement, and the gravity of their situation. There wasn’t a single person in the room that hadn’t found themselves losing both ships and power thanks to the Obsidian Order’s resurgence. Their focus on matters not strictly espionage was a direct reflection of the Council adopting strategies that were, according to the men in the room, an affront to what it meant to be Cardassian.
“Have we heard anything from our reconnaissance teams?” another Legate further down the table inquired.
“Not yet, but given what we’ve asked of them, I doubt it will be something they will manage to uncover quickly. We will simply operate under the assumption the team has failed until we hear otherwise,” Tenal said dismissively.
No one seemed against such a thing, given the amount of which the lives in question were actually worth to the Legates assembled. Unlike the Council, who measured lives as things of value that gave them some measure of legitimacy, Central Command took the more traditional approach, and considered them to be tools of the state, a state that Central Command should be in control of, and not weak minded elected officials.
“Let us discuss our next move, gentlemen…”
[Legate Kudred’s Office, Xempok Nor]
[Early September, 2399]
Legate Krenn Kudred sat behind the desk of his office with a dower expression on his face. In the intervening time between the Federation pulling support away from the Detapa Council and the Cardassian Union as a whole, Central Command had yet to secure more than a dozen of the far-flung worlds on the opposite side of the Union. Such a slow and methodical usurpation of power would normally have been something praiseworthy, but when weighed against Just how little influence and how few resources that afforded them, it wasn’t remotely close to being something that could be called an effective use of their time.
Worse still, the agents that had been sent to infiltrate the Council on Cardassia had finally been confirmed dead, which put him in a precarious situation. The Obsidian Order was already at a level of efficiency that rivaled their glory days in the decades before the Dominion War. It was almost unnatural of them to be so well equipped, well informed, and most of all, well-practiced at something they hadn’t even been doing for more than a couple of years. Even worse, Legate Kudred couldn’t find even a whisper about who was running things now.
“Legate, a priority message just came down for you,” the voice of Glinn Temett interrupted Kudred’s thoughts.
“From whom?” the Legate questioned his aide as he slowly looked up from the work that had gone idle while he was consumed with his own thoughts.
“Gul Lenir, sir,” the Glinn replied curtly and quickly.
“Let me see it,” Kudred held a hand out, finding a PaDD being deposited into it within seconds of it behind held out. The Legate glazed over the pleasantries and mundane information that had been inserted into the report to ‘fluff’ the data package and make it harder to intercept without their communications technicians taking notice. His eyes slowed once he found the true purpose of the communication. A rather sharp sneer emerged on his face as he took in the information.
“It would seem that the Council has been busy…” Kudred growled in displeasure at the news sitting in his hand, “A little too busy…”
“Your orders, Legate?” the Glinn asked after pushing himself to stand just a little straighter.
Kudred didn’t answer right away, his free hand drumming against the surface of the desk to aid in his contemplations. Given the source of the information, the Legate could be certain that it was reliable, but there were just enough holes in it that he wasn’t completely certain how he could make effective use of it without giving away the fact that they had found out, and more to the point, putting Gul Lenir’s life in danger. Even if he considered her and her crew to be little more than tools, they had proven to be extremely useful tools, and those were extremely difficult things to have in trying times such as those he found himself enduring.
“Send a small unit based out of Lazon to investigate… but instruct them not to cross our borders… make it look like a simple sensor sweep and nothing more…” the Legate finally said as he tossed the PaDD onto the stack near his right arm.
“At once,” Temett nodded deeply before turning on his heel and returning to the Operations pit where he’d come from.
Legate Kudred stood from his desk and looked out into the void of space, as if his eyes would somehow pick up on something out in the dark vastness that stretched onward forever. Despite being in a rather strategic location, ships had managed to slip through the gap between the Union and Tzenkethi borders. Worse yet, they had gotten all the way to the flank of Cardassian holdings, worlds currently under the control of Central Command.
“I wonder if they believe us too preoccupied that we wouldn’t notice them lurking poorly in the shadows…” Kudred muttered to no one in particular as he continued to search the empty vacuum just beyond the transparent aluminum window of his office, “If so, they truly are more foolish than I had thought them to be…”
[Chairman’s Private Chambers, Detapa Council Building, Cardassia Prime]
[Early September, 2399]
Chairman Ila Rekal sat behind the ornate desk in her lavishly decorated office reading over the reports that had just come in from her agents in the Obsidian Order. The information contained within the PaDDs scattered across the desk could each be considered to be dangerous weapons all on their own, the culmination of which might have spelled doom for the individuals for whom the information pertained… at least, in years gone by. Right now, sitting atop her desk was dossiers on most of the men and women the Council had labeled as defectors and enemies of Cardassia. That, in itself, might have been damning except that not a single one of them was in a place the Council held dominion over.
The vast majority of the people she’d been reading about were already cloistered in the far reaches of the Union, and on worlds that had succumbed to the poison that the Central Command was spewing about their ‘righteous and noble place’ at the head of the government. Their narrow-mindedness wasn’t all that shocking to Rekal, but it did vex her somewhat that there were still Cardassians that could be fooled by such outdated rhetoric left in the Union. It may very well only be possible because the outer worlds hadn’t suffered like Cardassia Prime and the other worlds near the Federation border had. Knowing no real difference between the old regime, the Dominion Occupation, and the current state of affairs very well might have been the reason the worlds now controlled by Central Command had gone along with the traitors so easily.
The door to her office slid open, allowing the form of one of the many assistants that carried out business in the building to make entry. The man nodded his head to the Chairman before offering her a PaDD from across the desk.
“Councilman Kulem said that you might wish to review this, Chairman,” the man explained his presence in her office with the glib efficiency of someone used to working with people of high standing.
“Thank you,” Rekal said, taking the PaDD in hand before settling back to read it. A few lines into the information, Rekal’s eyes floated back up to find the man still standing in front of her desk. She couldn’t help but frown at this. Member of Kulem’s staff or not, he was rather brazen in his attempts to intrude when his business had already finished.
“Are you waiting for something?” Rekal asked in a low and dispassionate voice.
“No, Chairman,” the man said briskly.
“Then leave,” came the equally brisk dismissal.
The man turned around and headed back out of the room, his displeasure at being dismissed plain on his face. Rekal couldn’t have cared less about his attitude, she was certain that he was merely lurking about to report to his superior what manner of reaction the information might have inspired. Such information was precious, and hardly worth allowing some lowly assistant to bear witness to. After a few moments of retributive contemplation, the Chairman finally returned her attention to the information that had been delivered to her.
Halfway through, a casual smirk graced the woman’s lips, something she would not have allowed had the man still been in the room. Things were proceeding smoothly, according to what was being relayed. Even the response from Central Command was almost exactly as she thought it would be. Things were slowly developing, to be sure, but it made things all the sweeter to her when she saw the results. And with that thought in mind, Rekal made the snap decision to put another one of her plans in motion.
“Get me Gul Berel,” Rekal said after bringing up the communications network on her desk console.
“Yes, Chairman,” the voice on the other end of the call replied before terminating the transmission.
Rekal leaned back in her chair, her mind shuffling through all the various plans she might be able to use to make good use of the information she’d been provided. One might have compared it to a game of chess, moving pieces about so as to predict the moves of her opponent before they made them. The passage of time became wholly irrelevant to her, as the screen in her office flaring to life pulled her from her silent musings as if she’d only just started them.
“Gul Berel,” the Chairman said in way of greeting to the man who’s face now dominated her screen.
“Chairman,” the Gul nodded respectfully, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Rekal issued the man a crooked grin, “I suppose you owe your own competence for this assignment. I do hope your skills haven’t diminished since last I asked you to use them…”
“I don’t believe you will find me lacking,” Berel answered back with his own devious smirk.
“Excellent,” Rekal said, straightening up, “I need to you head to the Badlands…”
[Detapa Council Chambers, Cardassia Prime]
[Late October, 2399]
Chairman Ila Rekal sat at the head of Council chambers, flanked on either side by two members of each of the opposing factions within their ranks. Thankfully, both sides of the divide in ideologies could agree that using Empok Nor to host a cultural experiment would only benefit them in the long run. The only concern was whether the Federation would actually buy into it. Most of the Council members had dealt with the Federation in some capacity during the Dominion War, and though they might claim otherwise, everyone in the room believed them to be just as weary of them as the Cardassians were of the Federation.
“Are you certain that the Federation will contact us today?” the more impatient Councilor in the group grumbled from his chair to Rekal’s far right.
“Yes, Ruvel, I have it on good authority that we should be expecting contact at any moment. I would remind you that the universe does not revolve around your schedule,” Rekal remarked dryly without sparing the man a glance.
A chuckle erupted from the Councilor directly to Rekal’s left, though the sound wasn’t enough of a distraction from what she was presently doing to cause her to pause. Rekal seemed to be the only one that was attending to other matters while waiting for Federation contact, which wasn’t all that surprising given that it was growing somewhat late on Cardassia and most of the Councilors were perfectly content to let aides and lackeys do the real work for them.
“Chairman, an incoming message from the Federation has been received. Shall I decode and transfer it to the Council Chambers?” the voice of one of her aides filled the silence of the room a few minutes after the exchange between Rekal and Ruvel.
“Yes,” Rekal said bluntly, shifting her attention from the PaDD in her hand to the large oval screen near the back of the room.
When the screen flickered to life, the seal of the Cardassian Union flashed up for a moment before being swapped to the Federation seal. Once the transmission was fully decoded, the image swapped out for a rather bright looking conference area with a group identical in number to the Cardassian contingent. Sitting squarely in the middle was an Andorian wearing civilian attire, flanked immediately by a Starfleet Admiral of Vulcan origins, another Starfleet Officer of human origin and a of a rank she didn’t immediately recognize, as well as two others who looked to be civilians and whose backgrounds weren’t immediately obvious given that they were slightly out of frame.
“Thank you for your willingness to come to the negotiating table today,” Chairman Rekal spoke first to seize the initiative and to control the flow of the meeting, “I am Chairman Rekal of the Detapa Council.”
“A pleasure,” the Andorian said in a somewhat dry tone, “I’m Councilor Thavos, and the people with me represent Starfleet as well as several other parties with a vested interest in these talks. I have been placed in charge of handling this matter on behalf of the Federation Council. I would very much like to know why you chose to send your request in the manner you did.”
“Secrecy,” Rekal replied without a hint of hesitation, “The Cardassian Union is not as cohesive as it was prior to the war. Even less so since the Federation withdrew their post war relief efforts after the unfortunate incident on Mars. It was decided that the fewer people who had access to the information we wished to relay, the better our chances were of having this meeting unimpeded.”
“I see… It is a shame that the circumstances during that time allowed for no better handling of the situation,” Thavos said with a thoughtful expression as several of the people to either side began to shift uncomfortably and started to carry on side conversations just low enough not to be heard through the transmission.
“We don’t blame you for withdrawing your support,” Rekal spoke up as if to smooth over a perceived misunderstanding, “Were the roles reversed, I have no doubt that my people would have taken a similar course of action. However, that is in the past and it is not the topic we wish to discuss.”
“Yes, your message spoke of a joint venture. I assume that this is what you wanted to discuss,” the Andorian nodded as the topic shifted toward the business at hand.
“Exactly that, Councilor. A joint venture between our people and your own… or rather… your Federation. You see… Cardassia needs allies, Councilor, but we are not so arrogant as to think that they will come easily in this day and age. Some of my fellows here in this very room believe otherwise, but have still managed to put aside pride for the betterment of the Cardassian people. I’m hoping that we can engage in a mutually beneficial exchange, one that will assuage the deeply held belief that we are ruthless aggressors with no interest in being part of the wider galactic community on any terms but our own,” Rekal explained, a calculated smile dancing on her lips.
The Federation contingent gave one another questioning glances that told her that they had a hard time swallowing the words she’d just said. The fact that it wasn’t outright denials or their intentions or some manner of accusations being hurled immediately following her utterance gave Rekal reason to believe that they were at least considering it as a potentially valid position for them to approach the subject under.
The Vulcan Admiral sitting next to Thavos spoke up as the rest of the room continued to chatter amongst themselves, “It would be agreeable if such a statement could be taken at face value, Chairman. The reality of the situation, however, suggests that your insistence that such an exchange would be of mutual benefit to both parties is slightly exaggerated. It is more logical to assume that your people have a great deal to gain in this exchange you propose, while the Federation will receive only frivolous levels of beneficial materials in this endeavor. It would be folly to simply engage in a vaguely formulated exchange without some concrete item of value for Federation interests.”
Thavos turned to look at his Vulcan counterpart with no small amount of displeasure on his face, “I believe we should wait until the Chairman has actually explained the endeavor before we start weighing it on the scales of what we will gain from it.”
“That’s quite alright, Councilor,” Rekal said with a smirk, “I would imagine that a great many in the Federation would take such an attitude toward the idea. Even my own people have asked similar questions… though they believe there is less in it for us than there is for your Federation.”
The Admiral drew her eyebrows down into the Vulcan equivalent of a frown, though she didn’t comment further on the subject with such news suddenly being revealed.
“Why would your people believe that, Chairman Rekal?” Thavos didn’t seem quite able to believe the assertion.
“Because it would be tantamount to allowing your Federation free access to one of our strategic assets and a host of other sensitive information we don’t generally deign to share with outsiders,” Councilor Ruvel hissed with displeasure.
The outburst itself wasn’t a welcome one, but Rekal took it for the opportunity it was, “You see? There are a great many on the Council who believe in the traditions of the past. They would rather not allow anyone to see into our lives, into our borders. To them, we are giving away what most Cardassians would consider sacred… information.”
“Some of us,” one of the younger Councilors spoke up from Rekal’s left, “believe that in order for Cardassia to have a future, we must embrace the open exchange of not just information but ideas and culture. Artistry and intellectualism have taken a back seat in our lives since the Dominion War, a fact that has made our people all the more poor for it. Rather than simply selling off priceless artifacts to feed our bellies, we should be seeking a way to enhance our ability to create priceless pieces of art and culture without having to worry if our people will be fed tomorrow.”
“Feh…” Ruvel spat at the notion of fanciful ideas being worthy of consideration.
“As you can plainly see, Councilor… My people are not of one mind on a great many things lately. But even with all this divisiveness, we have come to you with an offer that might change things for all the people involved. And I truly believe that it will be in your best interests to give this experiment in cultural exchange a fair try. We already have a station picked out, and a crew who will meet the demands of such a cultural exchange,” the Chairman said, bringing the conversation back on track.
“Very well, Chairman Rekal… what is your proposal? The least we can do is hear it in its entirety and give you an answer based on all the information, rather than simply denying the request simply because it doesn’t seem beneficial on the surface,” Thavos said as he sank back into his seat.
“Thank you Councilor, I will start with where we intend for this venture to take place…” Rekal said with a smile as she began to lay down the particulars of the proposed gathering.