Empok Nor
jonileth
Member
Empok Nor, situated in the Trivas System, was long abandoned by the Cardassian government and left adrift, the victim of looting on a number of occasions since being left behind in 2372. As borders continued to change, so too did the fate of the once forgotten station. In the aftermath of the Utopia Planetia incident, the Cardassian Union was given back control of the Trivas system, and with it came the seeds of an idea. Even with the vastly limited resources available to the Detapa Council, Empok Nor was slowly restored to her former glory in secret. The mastermind behind the restoration, Chairman Ila Rekal, hoped to use the station as the test bed for cultural exchanges with the Federation and her allies, a place where goods and information could flow freely under the flag of building diplomatic relations and to shed new light on the Cardassian people in the eyes of the greater galactic community. This is the story of how her plan played out.
- Empok Nor is a fiction constructed primarily to explore the Cardassian people and their interactions with the Federation. The station is, at it's heart, a Cardassian station run by personnel loyal to the Detapa Council and their interests. Federation presence on the station is limited, and they hold no real authority in the running of the station. They are guests, and while they might be important to the aims of the Cardassians, they are not in control.
- This fiction is open to anyone who might wish to contribute to the ongoing story in some manner. Should you wish to do so, merely contact the thread creator and discuss it.
Major Characters
Ila Rekal, Chairman of the Detapa Council
Legate Sela Aren, Empok Nor Commander
Dalin Nefet, Empok Nor First Officer
Glinn Talmet, Empok Nor Security Chief
Cardassian Ranks can be found here.
Comments
[Detapa Council Chambers, Cardassia Prime]
The room exploded with voices both angry and pleased at the sudden proposal that had been distributed to each of the members, a project proposed by the Chairman herself. Without actually reading more than a few lines of the document, a clear division appeared in the Council Chambers. On one side of the fissure stood the traditionalists, who abhorred the idea on principle alone, never mind the implications it would have if such lunacy was allowed to carry on. On the other, the iconoclasts, who saw the project for all the potential gain it could bring the Cardassian people. The room seemed to exemplify the two traits that summed up the species in the minds of outsiders; xenophobia and opportunism.
“This is madness! You can’t possibly expect us to tolerate such a reckless endeavor! Have you no pride as a Cardassian?!” one of the more outspoken traditionalists bellowed over his comrades.
“And just how many lek do you suppose pride is worth, Counselor? How many hot meals would you suppose you could get from it? How many shirts for your back? How nice a home do you suppose you could get from your pride alone?” the Chairman asked in a low voice, forcing the room into silence by the sheer gravity of her question.
The incredulous look on the man’s face was to be expected from someone who believed wholeheartedly that Cardassian pride was the foundation of their race, but it came as a shock to his own fellows when he muttered, “None…”
Several of the traditionalists sucked in a breath at the sudden admission, though they hardly had better answers to offer in his place. On the other hand, the iconoclasts started nodding their heads as if it were simply the natural order of things.
“Pride is a thing to be cherished,” Chairman Rekal continued, which in turn had the mouths of the iconoclasts dropping from shock.
Murmurs erupted in the Council chamber as both sides struggled to come to terms with what Rekal had just said. In one breath she had admonished foolish pride, and in the next she had called it something to be venerated.
“But as of late, Cardassian pride means next to nothing, is worth nothing in the current age. I’ve heard the cries you and your associates make, about how Cardassia was a great place, a point of envy in all respects… And always you say ‘was’ as if you are trying to convince yourself that it is so. You praise the past and confuse it for the present because it is much more palatable for you to do so. That is part of the reason why so many of our frontier worlds have fallen into the hands of the Central Command,” the Chairman continued.
The room grew tense as the statement left her mouth, the eyes of everyone in the Council chamber searching for someone to pin the blame on. It was so typical and seemed so natural to them that Rekal couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“See?! The moment someone mentions a failure, you all start looking for who must take the blame. This is what Cardassian pride has been reduced to, ladies and gentlemen… We pride ourselves on not being able to adapt to a situation, and seek to simply shove it off on someone and dispose of them and the problem with them. Sad to say, that will not save us any longer,” the woman remarked as she picked up the PaDD with the proposal on it.
“This project is the way forward, my friends, because it is the only way we have never tried before. I told you once before that I intended to do something that Central Command would neither like nor expect,” Rekal said, harkening back to a distant meeting the occupants of the room had been a part of.
More than a few people on both sides of the divide began to shift uncomfortably at the recollection of that meeting. If this was the Chairman making good on her promise to confound Central Command, it took several leaps away from anything the individuals gathered in the room would have considered possible or even sane. It took a few minutes for the gathered politicians to return to their seats and actually give the document a fair chance, but in the end they had at least given it a fair look.
“It’s ambitious…” the leader of the traditionalist faction finally remarked after the room had gotten at handle on the proposal, “Do we even have the spare resources for it?”
“There is a station in an adequate location that would serve the function well enough,” Rekal answered with a smirk.
“What about manning? Garrisoning a station will require a large investiture in manpower and goods,” another of the traditionalists piped up.
“What we can’t provide, I’m certain our… guests… will be able to compensate for,” the smirk on the Chairman’s face deepened even further.
“How can you be so certain they will even entertain this idea, let alone allocate resources to it?” the traditionalist leader inquired with a frown.
“If we are known for our lofty pride, the same assumption could be made for their willingness to grab hold of an opportunity to win us over to their idealistic vision of the galaxy,” Rekal almost cackled as she thought of how easily the plan would actually be accepted.
Despite themselves, most of the iconoclasts seemed hesitant to agree, even if the plan was everything they could have asked for in terms of opening the doors to a near endless stream of possibilities for the Cardassian people. As lofty as their ideals might have been, they were all still Cardassians deep down, and they still didn’t completely believe in the worth of the greater galactic community as ‘equals’.
“It is a risk, I will admit that to you freely,” the Chairman continued to push her agenda, “But if it succeeds, we will gain a foothold that might very well pave the way to the restoration of not just our economy, not just our supremacy over the Cardassian people, but the pride that we have so often spoken of as a distant memory. If our pride is worth nothing now, what harm would it truly do to reach forward toward a day when it could again mean everything?”
Again, a murmur filled the room, but this time it wasn’t divided staunchly by anger or elation, but the calm drone of the Council weighing the idea in a manner that any other proposal of far less controversial substance would be afforded. The debates in the Council chamber lasted for several hours, emotions naturally flaring and subsiding, but in the end the two factions found it within themselves to unite on a common front, that being that the future survival of the Cardassian people was worth taking a risk that they had never considered before. And that risk would take place on a station designated as Empok Nor.
[Chairman Rekal’s Office, Detapa Council Building, Cardassia Prime]
[The following day]
“Things are moving rather briskly,” the Chairman’s aide said with a smirk as he handed over the documents he’d been holding.
“As they should, Vilnak,” Rekal said with a slight lilt in her voice.
Vilnak gave the woman a short chuckle in response to her confident declaration, “I suppose it is only natural at this point. Having suffered greatly in recent years thanks to Central Command and their never ending crusade to champion the ideals of the past, even our traditionalist counterparts have been forced to take a long, hard look at what is really important to the survival of the Cardassian people.”
“I never said that I wasn’t of a traditional mind,” Rekal mused in a low voice as she gazed at the documents before her. Most of the Council had assumed, given that she was the originator of the plan, that Rekal was in the iconoclast camp. The fact that she hadn’t outright denied the assumptions of her colleagues had only added fuel to the fires of their misinterpretations of the situation. And it was those very misconceptions that had secured the support she had needed to see her ‘great experiment’ come to life.
“I would hazard to guess that you are less a traditionalist these days, and are merely a pragmatist that appreciates the power that the old ways have on swaying the more stubborn members of the Council,” Vilnak said as he talked over to the desk he usually occupied during the normal work day.
“Perhaps,” Rekal said with a noncommittal shrug. The statement may have been slightly correct, but it wasn’t worth clarifying the parts that weren’t entirely true. As long as the two of them had worked together, Rekal still didn’t implicitly trust her aide or his ability to keep tidbits that might cause intrigue among the Council to himself. She had already tested it enough to know where the bounds of his ability to keep information hidden were, and knew not to allow him any more than half-truths and convenient misdirection.
“Have you finished compiling the list of candidates for the project?” Rekal asked as she happened upon a logistics report.
“All but the most important position, yes. You should have that in the stack,” Vilnak responded without looking up from his work.
Rekal rifled through the paperwork until she found the documents she wanted, and gave them a thorough examination before nodding to herself. The list contained enough people from both sides of the current divide of opinion in the Council. It would prove the most effective test of not only their own ability to adapt as Cardassians, but their guests’ ability to integrate with them. Problems would no doubt surface, and conflict was inevitable given the diversity with which their guests would no doubt choose their own representatives for the experiment. It would be a rather tenuous position to be placed in charge of such a unique project, something that would not appeal to any but the most foolhardy of Cardassian officers. And even then, Rekal wasn’t entirely sure the fools would fall for such a post so willingly or easily.
“If I may…” Vilnak spoke up after taking notice of the tight look on the Chairman’s face.
“Hmm…” Rekal said as her eyes floated up to the man across the room.
“I had a few thoughts on who might fit as the attending Legate of the station. There are some exceptional Guls who have remained loyal to the Cardassian people who might make suitable leaders for your project,” the aide said, his lips curving upward in the start of a smile.
“I’m sure you suggest this purely for the good of Cardassia,” Rekal said, her tone muddled enough not to betray just how little faith she had in his altruistic nature.
“But of course,” Vilnak said, declining his head in a show of reverence for the idea of service to his people.
“Submit your suggestions, though I may decide to go with someone other than the ones who you put forward if I feel them to be better suited,” Rekal said, not forgetting to add the small caveat that his attempt at stacking the deck might not avail him.
“I have no doubt that no matter who you choose, it will be for the betterment of our goals, Chairman,” Vilnak smiled, already basking in a victory he hadn’t actually secured.
[Chairman Rekal’s Office, Detapa Council Building, Cardassia Prime]
[One week later]
Chairman Rekal sat behind her desk, eying the Cardassian Gul sitting in the chair directly opposite her position. The woman sitting before the Chairman had the proud aura of a Cardassian Gul, though it was less about the position itself and more a matter of her own accomplishments and deeds that was the source of this pride. She was one of the younger Guls to be promoted in the wake of the Central Command’s ‘dissention’ which meant that while she was in the military, her allegiance had been with the Council rather than the Legates who were attempting to steer the Cardassian people into what even Rekal would have considered nothing but a Dark Age.
“Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to speak with you today, Chairman,” the woman said in an attempt to stick to etiquette.
“Quite,” Rekal nodded unenthusiastically at the platitudes, “So tell me, Gul Aren, why did you agree to speak with me about the position? I understand that you are fairly ambitious, but having your own ship so early in your career should have already been enough to sate your appetite for advancement. Why give that up for a post on the edge of Cardassian space?”
“Because I see it as an opportunity, Chairman,” came the rather blunt response as the Gul shifted slightly in her chair to rest an elbow on one of the armrests, “Commanding a ship was a goal I had in mind for myself for a good little while, but I find that being deployed to put out small fires all over the Union has less appeal to it than when I was a young woman looking up to her first Gul.”
“Understandable,” Rekal conceded the point that such missions tended to be extremely monotonous and scarcely held the prestige that a young, up and coming officer might thirst for. The fact that she could readily admit that such assignments were tiresome was also a trait to be admired, many officers had been given positions they had initially asked for, and found themselves never able to grow beyond them, stagnating and being replaced with younger and far more hungry men and women.
Rekal mulled her next question for a few moments before asking, “Do you feel that you could work with a crew composed of Federation officers and staff on equal footing, Gul Aren?”
“I don’t believe it would be too difficult a challenge, no,” the woman shook her head slightly.
“Why not?”
“As I said, it is an opportunity,” the Gul said with a smirk, “No matter how you might go about painting the picture for the Federation to make the idea palatable, at the end of the day it is a means to an end. We lack the resources and the support to truly unite the Union as it was in my parents’ day. Clinging to old hopes of yesteryear will do us no good in this day and age. No matter how much it might hurt our pride, and go against our instincts… We must survive.”
“Spoken like a true Cardassian,” Rekal’s lips curled into a smirk, “But do you believe that?”
The shrug that erupted from the Gul wasn’t entirely expected, and it made the smirk on Rekal’s lips drop a bit.
“It isn’t really a matter of what I really believe, Chairman. If that is the line that will make the Federation accept the plan, to acquiesce to our wishes and cooperate with us, then I will make certain no one doubts that it is our belief,” Aren said without any hint of shame for the outright lie.
“Even if you are forced to aid the Federation over your own people in this endeavor?” the Chairman asked, an eyebrow raised.
“The goal is to secure resources and allies from outside the Union to benefit our people, correct?” the Gul countered the question with a question.
“It is, yes,” Rekal nodded.
“Then the means by which it is accomplished are trivial,” the woman responded without missing a beat.
For the first time, Rekal’s face eased into a natural smile at hearing those words. They were the only ones that had any sincerity behind them, the only ones that weren’t passed through the filter of ambition or agenda. They were as close to the truth as any Cardassian might dare to speak aloud in a place other than their deathbed.
“Very well. We will be in touch soon,” Rekal said dismissively.
Gul Aren didn’t waste time asking if the position was hers or not, nor did she offer the Chairman much more than a curt nod. Aren knew she had secured the position simply by the flow of the conversation, knew that soon she would be given her transfer orders and a measure of freedom she had yearned for. The freedom to lead the charge toward a better future for her people.
As the doors to Rekal’s office slid closed behind the retreating Gul, Chairman Rekal couldn’t help but smile triumphantly to herself. She’d managed to find exactly the kind of person she was looking for, and it hadn’t come from the list her aide had provided her, which meant that if anyone would be using the Gul as a puppet for their purposes, it would be her and her alone. The Chairman let out a small sigh of contentment into the silent and empty room before returning her focus to the work ahead.
“So much still to do…” Rekal hummed to herself almost melodically as she basked in the momentary victory.
[Gul Aren’s Private Quarters, CUS Elbrin]
[Three Days Later]
The ship’s Communications Officer woke Aren out of her sleep with a priority message from Cardassia Prime. Because she had been sleeping for several hours already, it took a few moments for her to gather her unruly hair into something resembling a presentable appearance before she finally sank down in front of her quarters’ desk and accepted the communication.
“Gul Aren,” the face of the Chairman flashed onto her screen.
“Chairman Rekal,” the woman replied in kind before adding, “What are your orders?”
“You are to divert your ship to the enclosed coordinates. Once you and your personal gear has been transferred, you will order your ship to return to Cardassia Prime,” Rekal explained, pleased that the Gul was so quick to understand the purpose of her communication.
“At once,” Aren responded resolutely.
Rekal waited a few moments before speaking again, “Also, you will be given the rank of Legate for the duration of the… experiment. Should your performance prove to be of substantial merit during this endeavor, the appointment will be made permanent. Good luck… Cardassia out.”
The screen reverted to a situational readout, which Aren promptly used to find the coordinates that had been provided to her, as well as to confirm her appointment to Legate. When she located both items and ensured that nothing was amiss with either of them, Aren allowed herself a mirthful grin before setting about getting dressed.
Once she was sure that she was presentable, Legate Aren departed her quarters, making her way quickly to the bridge of the ship that would soon no longer be hers. The spring in her step was uncharacteristic of her, but not so much so that she felt she needed to stifle it. After all… she had every reason to be elated at her fortune at the moment.
Entering the bridge of the Elbrin, Legate Aren approached the command chair, which was swiftly vacated by the wide eyed Glinn who manned the night watch on the bridge. There were several crewmen who gave their now former Gul quizzical looks, but true to form, Aren felt absolutely no need to explain anything to them and merely began issuing orders to the crew, setting them on course to meet with the station she would soon take command of. Once she had ensured that everything on the bridge was taken care of, she had the Gil manning the communications console to contact her Executive Officer and have him meet her in her office.
It took very little time to walk from the bridge to her office on the ship, and it appeared that whatever had been passed along by the Gil had prompted her XO to run from his quarters to her office. While the man walked in attempting to look as composed as possible, it was obvious by the sweat glistening on his forehead that he had made a great effort to be as punctual as possible.
“Dal Temek,” the new Legate said with a smirk on her face, “It would appear that I have been reassigned. Prior to my departure, however, I have some final orders for you from the Council, more to the point, from the Chairman herself.”
“I see…” the man straightened up, his mind already starting to work out how the conversation was going to play out.
“I’ve diverted the ship to Empok Nor,” Legate Aren began, prompting a confused look on the man’s face.
“I’ve never heard of that station…” the man admitted after trying to decide if such an admission was acceptable.
“Nor had I until a little while ago when I was given its coordinates. It was supposedly an old Obsidian Order station that was hidden from public knowledge just inside of our borders. It is in a small star system that has almost no economic value to the Union or anyone else. The perfect location to conduct all manner of operations in obscurity, wouldn’t you agree?” the Legate continued.
“It wouldn’t be the first time the old Obsidian Order had buried something away for ‘safekeeping’,” Temek said with an unimpressed look on his face.
“The old Order was rather fond of the practice, yes,” Aren nodded at the man’s statement, “But that isn’t what matters. I have been assigned as the station’s commander. I will be departing the ship once we arrive. Once I have been transferred over, you will take the Elbrin back to Cardassia Prime. That comes directly from the Council, so I would assume they mean to debrief you and inform you and the crew what your next assignment will be.”
“Very well, Legate,” the man said, nodding curtly to the woman sitting behind the desk.
“I would advise you to keep knowledge of our destination as quiet as you can, Temek. It is a rather important endeavor in the eyes of the Council, and I’m certain that their choice of location and its obscurity were no accidental choices. I would hate to see you or the crew disposed of to protect a secret…” Aren warned with no small bit of personal satisfaction at being able to issue such an obvious threat.
“I will make sure the crew is discreet about the destination, and what they might see while we are there,” Temek said.
“Oh… none of you will be setting foot on the station. You will drop me off and then depart immediately,” Aren smiled.
“Ah…” the man said, his face contorting indignantly for a moment.
“If you would, go to the bridge and ensure that the officers there understand the situation, and have them man their stations until you are on your way back to Cardassia Prime to minimize the possibility of issues,” the Legate asked in a manner that allowed for no refusal.
Dal Temek nodded in understanding and headed back out of the Legate’s office to carry out her instructions. When she was left alone, Legate Aren began the somewhat simple task of gathering her belongings to make ready for the transfer that was awaiting her in just a few short hours.
[Legate Aren’s Quarters, Empok Nor]
[Following Day]
Aren awoke earlier than she normally would, a mixture of nerves and the new environment playing a role in it in equal parts. The quarters that were designated to her by virtue of her position were lavish by the standards of even her former position as a Gul, as if to accentuate the clear difference in the two posts. There was almost nothing about her accommodations that didn’t scream opulence. It would take some getting used to, but in the back of her mind, Aren didn’t imagine herself undeserving of it in the least.
The Legate rose languidly from her bed, fully aware that she had ample time before she would need to make her way to Station Ops and present herself to the new crew that she would be taking command of. Before that, however, Aren opted to use the bathing facilities in her quarters, allowing herself the luxury of an actual bath, vice a sonic shower like she would generally use. It was a worthwhile expenditure of time to indulge, as it made her much more relaxed and ready to confront the day.
Thanks to the rather traditional mindset inherent in Cardassian design, Empok Nor was identical in layout to most of the other Nor-class stations she’d been on, making it rather pointless to wander the corridors to familiarize herself with the place. Most of the station's facilities were currently sitting empty, with even the promenade ring hosting only a small bar run by a Cardassian civilian who’d been a member of the crew for some time before leaving active service. The rest of the spaces were left open in hopes that commerce would soon find itself a place on the quiet outpost.
It was a bit disconcerting that everything was so subdued, almost devoid of life. The few Cardassians that occupied the spaces weren’t really engaging in much conversation, and what little did take place was mostly post-work banter that was a universal topic no matter the culture. If the attitudes of the crew that were on the station was any indicator, she would already have a problem keeping them occupied while things got underway. It made the thought of having breakfast in her new office a more appealing prospect than sitting at the replimat facility listening to disinterested blather.
Finding the nearest lift that would take her to Station Ops, Aren abandoned the somewhat leisurely stroll in favor of getting down to business. The lift ride gave her ample time to compose herself and her thoughts before she stepped out into the Operations Center of her new station to find that it was at least a little busier than the promenade had been.
“Legate Aren,” a female Dalin approached, “Welcome to Ops. At the moment, there isn’t anything especially exciting happening on the station, so I’m afraid a situation report might bore you.”
“The walk from my quarters clued me in to how… tranquil… the station was at the moment. Where is my First Officer?” the Legate asked, sweeping her eyes over the various people in the room to see who might fit the bill.
The Dalin in front of her shifted uncomfortably, “That would… be me… Legate.”
“Oh…” Aren said as she raised an inquisitive eyebrow for a moment before shaking off the mild shock of the information, “Very well then, Dalin…”
“Nefet,” the woman offered up in response.
“Dalin Nefet,” Aren nodded, committing the name to memory, “I am Legate Aren, and I formally assume command of this station.”
“The station is yours, Legate,” the Dalin nodded respectfully before moving to the side to allow the Legate to pass by her.
Aren crossed the expanse between the lift cluster and the office that stood on the opposite side of the room, mounting the stairs without wasting any time wandering around Ops. The door to her office slid open to allow her entry, and Aren wasted no time sinking down into the chair behind the desk to begin the day’s work, such as it currently was. It was almost by accident that the Legate looked up to find the Dalin standing just inside the doorway.
“Yes?” was all Aren bothered to ask in response to the younger woman.
“I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment, Legate,” came the subdued response to Aren’s somewhat impatient query.
“If you must,” the Legate sighed and motioned to the chairs in front of her desk.
The Dalin took a moment to close the distance between them, but chose not to sit. Once her hands were folded behind her back in a disciplined manner, Nefet began to speak.
“The station’s crew has come to me wishing to know the purpose for our deployment to this station that no one had heard of until we were handed orders and shifted off here. With the exception of our bartender, who swears he’s been on this station for years, there isn’t a soul here who has been here longer than a week… myself included. We were given no formal briefing as to our mission, and no explanation as to why we are here. Aside from keeping the station operational, we haven’t had anything else to really do…” Nefet explained at length.
“We are here at the will of the Chairman of the Detapa Council, Dalin, and that is all that anyone on this station should need to know. We are serving the greater good of the Cardassian people by being here, and it is that service that brought everyone to this station. Until I decide that further information is prudent, that is all you and the crew are required to know. If things do not work out in a manner that the Council believes they will, there will be no reason to brief anyone further as there will be nothing to brief. This station will continue to operate here in secret and we will all go about our dreary little lives without end, until the Council has need of us elsewhere,” Legate Aren said firmly.
“Very well, Legate, I will pass that word along,” the Dalin said with a somewhat disappointed lilt to her voice.
“See that you do…” Aren said as she turned away from the woman. Thankfully the Dalin was astute enough to take it as a sign that she was dismissed and headed back out into the main Operations area to begin the task of detailing their current marching orders, which was basically to carry on in the dark until there was something to pass along to them.
[Ops, Empok Nor]
[Two weeks later]
The establishment of a routine had become the primary concern for everyone occupying Empok Nor, Legate Aren being no exception. The lack of visitors to the station, as would normally be the case for a Nor, meant that the station took on the feel of a deep space mission that didn’t actually go anywhere. Monotony and boredom were rampant aboard, thanks in no small part to most of the spaces being empty and unutilized for any manner of diversion on the Promenade. Even going to the bar felt more a chore than a diversion, since it was only stocked with what was available in the Union, a selection that was sparse to say the least.
Legate Aren was, as was now part of her routine, parsing through the various section reports that had been submitted to her the evening before. It was painfully obvious that even the department heads on the station had fallen into the rut of routine. Most of them were now carbon copies of the previous day’s report with no effort expended to even modify the wording of them. The humor of this descent into tedium was not lost on the Legate, the tiny smirk dancing on her lips was proof enough of that.
The Legate let out a small sigh as she sank back into the rather comfortable chair that sat behind her desk. Even though she knew the reason behind the station being where it was, and the reason it was being kept a secret, that didn’t stop her from wondering if the council would actually be able to pull off the ‘grand plan’ and incite their intended participants from going through with the scheme they’d concocted. Aren had been part of the Cardassian military long enough to have gotten used to being told to deploy somewhere, only to later be told to change course, or return to her original mission as if the detour were simply an illusion. Thanks to discipline, she never asked her superiors for answers as to the changes. She did not, however, stop herself from contemplating the rationale behind them when she was alone.
The door to her office slid open, allowing Dalin Nefet to enter. The action wasn’t out of sorts, it didn’t fall outside of the etiquette demanded of a subordinate on a posting such as a station. What did strike the Legate as odd was the fact that the Dalin looked slightly in a panic. Unless the station was suddenly falling apart, the cause for her sudden visit must have been external in nature.
“What is it, Dalin?” Aren asked, turning her chair to face the woman more directly.
“There’s an incoming transmission from the Chairman, but it is marked as a station wide broadcast…” Nefet explained the situation that had brought her into the Legate’s office in such a panicky state.
“Is there now?” Aren couldn’t help but smirk at the news. Though she hadn’t expected it to be so soon, the Legate was almost certain that when the success or failure of the council’s scheme came to light, it would be handed down to them in such a broad sweeping fashion. Chairman Rekal struck Aren as the type to be extremely heavy handed when it came to spreading her vision of how she wished for things to go. A station wide broadcast was not in any real way a surprise.
The Legate swivelled a bit more and pushed herself out of her chair, circling around the desk to follow Nefet out into the ‘pit’ to view the broadcast with the rest of the Operations staff. A curt nod to the man at the communications console was all it took for him to bring the message up on all of the screens throughout the station.
“This is Chairman Rekal, broadcasting a message to the crew of Empok Nor. Negotiations with the Federation have proven to be successful. Our intentions for peaceful contact and cultural exchange have been met favorably by the Federation representatives we have spoken to. In the coming weeks, vessels of Federation origin will be sent to Empok Nor. This will be a monumental occasion, and the Council hopes that it will be a fruitful exchange that will bring about a great influx of goods and opportunities for the Cardassian people. This is the reason you have all been assigned to Empok Nor, because we believe you are capable of handling this unprecedented responsibility with the dedication it will require from you all. I look forward to your success. Cardassia out.”
The majority of the Operations center began exchanging glances, which soon erupted into a din of banter among them. Most of the chatter consisted of disbelief and surprise, though there were a few murmurs of discontent laced in the conversations. The only person in the room not engaging in any manner of shocked expression was Legate Aren. Her quiet smile grew more noticeable as the din of chatter continued on, until Dalin Nefet actually came to her senses and realized the Legate was far too composed given the weight of the transmission’s contents.
“Pardon me for asking this, Legate… but did you know this was going to happen?” Nefet inquired in a voice just loud enough to cut through and silence the din of conversation around her.
“Of course I did,” Aren admitted freely, “I would have thought such a thing would have been obvious. I’m almost disappointed you even had to ask…”
Nefet shifted uncomfortably at the response, slightly embarrassed by the jab made at her observational skills. Whether the Legate noticed her discomfort or not would be a question left unanswered as she suddenly shifted the conversation and attention away from that toward what was expected of them now.
“As you’ve just heard, the Council has made inroads to the Federation. They will be coming here in short order to establish a cultural exchange between our two peoples. I expect that with their presence will come a great deal of trouble to contend with. My own personal experiences with Federation personnel is severely limited. I’ve only engaged with them a handful of times… Some of you likely have never dealt with anyone not of Cardassian origin in your lives. Your inexperience may yet prove useful, since you have no preconceived expectations for how to interact with them. But interact you shall… all of you are expected to expose yourself to our guests. Whether you become the best of friends is of little consequence, as long as no one here presents an overly antagonistic facade toward them,” Aren explained, her gaze landing on each of the people standing around her to drive the point across that she meant it for not only them, but everyone they supervised as well.
“Will they be running the station alongside us?” the Dalin in charge of station maintenance spoke up.
“No,” the Legate said before pausing to give the matter a bit more consideration before amending, “Not at first at least. Should they prove useful, or express a desire to become useful in those endeavors, we will address it then. For now, however, they will not be permitted into any areas that a Cardassian civilian would be restricted from entering.”
The man’s face appeared pensive over the answer to his query but he nonetheless nodded and accepted it as it stood.
“Do we know how many ships we should expect?” The Glinn in charge of overseeing their docking facilities and storage areas spoke up.
“Not at the moment. The information I had already been given by the Council before my arrival was focused mainly on the expectations of the project, not the particulars. I’m sure that the first wave of Federation vessels will be able to tell us more about their contingent when they arrive. I recommend you set your expectations for what they might bring high. We can always draw down later, but I do not want to be caught being lax and have to rush to catch up,” Aren remarked.
Another nod, but this time with a much less displeased look from the person she’d addressed.
Nefet folded her arms across her chest with a frown, “How are we going to segregate the Federation contingent? Quarters were assigned in the typical fashion for a military post, which means we would have to fit their people among our own.”
“I see nothing wrong with that,” the Legate said without giving the question any thought, “Having Federation neighbors in an adjacent room won’t hamper operations of this station in any way. If anything, leaving things as they are right now will only serve to show the Federation our sincerity in engaging in this cultural exchange. Having sections blocked off and only accessible for Federation habitation will only present us as being half-hearted about this whole affair.”
Unlike the previous responses, this latest decree was met with vocal displeasure from most of the people gathered in Ops. The fact that they were so adamant about their objections to such a plan showed the Legate just how difficult a task they had ahead of them. With a mental sigh, Aren waited for everyone to have their little turn at voicing why the idea was a bad one before she addressed the matter again.
“Does everyone feel better now that they’ve had their say?” the Legate cast her gaze over the assembled crew, watching their faces and gestures for a moment before continuing, “Good. Now that I’ve indulged your ridiculous outburst, I shall repeat what I said. No changes to how quarters have been distributed will be made. No requests for transfers to other quarters will be entertained. We will not change the way we have gone about business up until now to please anyone… on either side. We will treat this influx of personnel as we would treat any influx that came from Cardassia. There will be no preferential treatment of any kind for any reason when it comes to issues such as accommodations or the like.”
“Even for you?” the Glinn in charge of security spoke up suddenly.
Legate Aren smiled at the man, “Especially for me. I rather like my quarters as it stands, and having a Federation neighbor will not lower the quality of my accommodations in the least. In fact, I expect that the person being placed in charge of the Federation contingent will be placed in one of the empty suites near my own.”
The collected officers didn’t expect to hear such a thing from the Legate. If anything, their expectations had been that she would try to use her position to exempt herself from such considerations but expect that the rest of them suffer the brunt of such a decision. Their objections to her decree lost a great deal of steam when she announced that she not only wasn’t going to be exempt, but expected that the Federation representative would be housed nearby.
“If we are going to be involved in such a project, everyone must be willing to do so with the utmost faith and dedication to it. If the end goal is to ensure that we gain the economic and political favors that will help our people survive in this new age, then we must do so without reservation or hesitation. It is the results that will be scrutinized by the Council… as well as historians… not the means by which we secured those results,” Aren explained to the group with a rather proud look on her face.
The collective members of the staff around her couldn’t help but agree with her stance, even if they weren’t entirely sold on the idea being put forward. Survival had always been paramount in the minds of Cardassians, and sacrificing something in the short term to gain something monumental in the long run was nothing short of expected in Cardassian culture. Emotional appeals were hardly an effective method when attempting to change the minds of a group with such morality at their core, but a logical appeal to their sense of duty to the continuation of their race had the required impact to quell dissent… at least for the moment.
“Now, if there are no other complaints about our mission,” the Legate’s face turned serious as she swept her gaze around once more to get the point across that the time for complaints was well and truly over, “Make ready to receive our guests. Any arrangements that need to be made prior to their arrival must come through me. And don’t forget… no changes in living quarters. Make sure everyone is brought up to speed before week’s end. I would hate to have to make Glinn Talmet throw a few dozen people into the brig because they didn’t get the message.”
The assembled staff nodded at the orders and broke away from the central console to carry out the required preparations. Aren smirked at the efficiency of the crew and their ability to take action even when they weren’t overly enthusiastic about it. As the thought crossed her mind, Aren wondered if there had ever actually been a time she herself had been all that enthusiastic to carry out orders she wasn’t thrilled about. As she mused about it, Legate Aren made her way back to her office to make preparations of her own.