Barriers

[Guest Commissioner]

The daily situation briefing in the Cardassian Presidium was not going well.

 

"But none of our assets have been affected?" the High Councilor asked.

 

"No. The ships attacked the Federation starship," Legate Tulet explained, refusing to invoke the name Yorktown, "then passed out of our border, completely ignoring a picket from the Sixth Order and a convoy of Lissepian freighters."

 

There were some nods, but very little murmuring around the larger, U-shaped table.

 

"It doesn't sound like much of a threat to us at all," one of the senior prefects remarked, barely hiding his relief. His own border world was among those passed over by the ships.

 

At the center of a smaller, rectangular table which faced the larger, the senior military advisor to the Presidum leaned forward in his seat. Marratt, a former legate who had risen to become Grand Marshall of the Cardassian Union through significant attrition, addressed the civilians who would have cowered beneath him a decade earlier. "Starfleet," he said with distainful emphasis, "seems to disagree. Ambassador Dukor was told that more than a dozen of their starships have been dispatched to respond."

 

"Respond?" asked the senior prefect, a bit presumptively. "Where?"

 

Marratt restrained his thin smile, rising from his seat to his full height – an imposing stature that had done much to impress the wives of many fellow officers. He gestured to the huge elliptical display set against the wall. A "top-down" view of Cardassian space was highlighted in orange from a perspective above the galactic plane. "When these new ships left our space, they seem to have attacked a region claimed by an insignificant power known as the First Federation."

 

Some heads turned with looks of confusion.

 

"No relation to the United Federation," the Indoctrination Minister spoke up, "although it seems the two have had dealings for over a century. We know little about them, except they jealously guard their border with formidable little buoys. The Ferengi don't cross in, but they maintain a brisk trade in a beverage called tranya."

 

"Thank you, Minister," Marratt cut in dismissively. "What's important is that Starfleet intends to send their ships there to interdict."

 

"You mean, across Cardassian space?" the prefect blurted, again out of turn. It was obvious that the direct route cut through the middle of the Union. Any path avoiding Cardassia would require a circuitous elliptical path. The prefect looked down the table. "But if there's battle, it could bring reprisals on our side of the border."

 

The loss of decorum was sudden, if not unexpected.

 

"Starfleet thinks they can just send an armada through our space?" came one shout.

 

"We can't allow it!" came another cry. "Who knows if they'll leave!"

 

"Cardassia is not a road," said a third, indignantly. "If they want another war, let them fight it over someone else's home!"

 

"Are you suggesting," the Castellan himself injected loudly, "we tell the Federation they cannot send their warships through Cardassian space?" Silence descended quickly as the status-conscious officials deferred to their leader.

 

"With all due respect, your excellency," came the reply from Marratt, "either our space is sovereign territory or it isn't. Are we masters of our own borders or guests inside them?"

 

The Foreign Minister turned toward the central figure at the table. "We can't estrange the Federation now," he implored. "They've been our best allies since the war. Without them..." He looked plaintive, not wanting to remind the group just how much they owed their lives to their former enemies. Other empires would have conquered and occupied, or worse, finished the extermination started by the Dominion. Other powers, without the Federation's temperance, would have let them starve or be picked apart by vultures like the Breen. Though it chafed at Cardassian pride, their very existence was likely due to Federation altruism and generosity.

 

"The question is," Marratt asserted, "are we allies or merely vassals?" He spoke aloud what they brooded privately.

 

The hooded eyes of the Castellan shifted from one side of the table to the other. There were foes and friends - some to him and some to the Federation - all along the length of it. His next words were measured and quiet. "Perhaps it is time we found out."

Edited June 11, 2008 by Commissioner