Absolution

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Excalibur skated through a cloud of blue-green gas on a calm morning. Barely a month remained till they once again were home at Camelot station. It had been almost nine months since they set out on their mission to find the Founders, and though they'd paid a heavy price in crew and occasionally conscience, they'd survived and at least to some degree, accomplished their mission. Contact with the Founders had been made, even if the end result wasn't what the Vorta Council was holding out hope against.

 

Corizon had considered the mission for what had seemed weeks before being able to put his thoughts into any coherent shape. There was much to be encouraged about; his crew had through everything worked together towards a common goal and survived what could have broken other crews. They'd had en entire squadron of fighter pilots killed, they'd been through hell and back during the incident with the Boganary. They'd also seen some wondrous things like the sky cities of the Satarimi and their archives. In deed, even if they did not return with Founders, they would return to home with knowledge thousands of years old, having discovered new life and new civilization.

 

The troubling thing was, whether or not that was enough for absolution. Absolution was an odd thing, one Corizon wondered if he'd ever truly find in this lifetime. He had seen such terrifying moments of light and darkness in his life, witnessed pain and suffering in the name of peace and prosperity. This mission had been no exception. The lives that had been lost in the name of finding the Founders to hopefully prevent the collapse of the Dominion bounced about in his head, and he wondered if they thought their death had been with purpose. Was the knowledge Excalibur gained on her mission enough?

 

Of course, they were Starfleet officers, he told himself. Every man and woman who put on the uniform knew the risks they took when they did so, and they knew that their lives were on the line on a daily basis. Space, as someone had once said, was a dangerous place. Traveling far amongst the stars in of itself was dangerous enough, but venturing into the edges of the unknown in search of that which had yet to be discovered, to expand the knowledge base of the whole was even more dangerous, and they knew that. You didn't join Starfleet because you wanted an easy job, you joined Starfleet to do what other men only dared dream – you joined to make impossible possible.

 

Still he had doubts about the validity of the mission that he'd led them on. The Dominion had been, just a few years before, the mortal enemy of their government and their Captain. They'd taken everything that was pure and innocent from a generation and turned it to dust beneath a silent starred sky. They'd ravaged homeworld after homeworld and left a trail of blood in their wake. Yet, here the Federation and Corizon was, trying to help keep their government together.

 

Perhaps that said more about the measure of man more than anything else. Many of the crew who'd given their lives on this journey had joined either during the Dominion War or in it's afterglow; they'd joined to fight against tyranny and oppression, yet here they were helping to continue it and had given their lives in that pursuit.

 

Why were they helping the Dominion anyway? The thought had bounced around his head plenty. Of course part of it was the deal he'd struck to gain their assistance in liberating the wormhole; but beyond that there was seemingly a thought, from what Corizon could tell from his conversations with Command, that while it was regrettable to help further the Dominion's ability to oppress people by the billions, that it was preferable to deal with the devil they knew.

 

 

Still he couldn't help but get the feeling that what they were doing was wrong. The long serving officer exhaled and considered a speech he'd given to the new recruits preparing to enter the clandestine service branches of Starfleet's intelligence apparatus.

 

At some point in your careers, you may be asked to do something that runs so counter to your morals and beliefs that you won't do it, even if it is for the good of the Federation. For some of you, that will be the end of your career in the clandestine services, others will do it anyway after telling themselves that, after all, it is for the good of the Federation. The human philosopher Nietzsche once cautioned to take care fighting monsters, least you become them. If you can make yourself do those things – stopping terrorists by becoming a terrorists, preventing assassinations by being an assassin – you must always keep your conscience about you, when you've lost that you've become the monster and it's time to leave. Our conscience is what separates us.

 

The words echoed in his head. In truth, there was never an absolution. The mission of Starfleet was to preserve the peace and explore the galaxy, but not ever mission could be a success. And though he remained skeptical of the validity of the mission he was completing and though it morally panged him—perhaps in failure it had been a success. And for now, the fact that he still had that feeling would have to be enough of an absolution for both him and his dead crew members.