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Cptn Swain

A Precipice

Dense forests had once covered nearly all of Tarwani, it’s nitrogen rich atmosphere fueling plantlife like a greenhouse. Once teeming with billions of species of plants and animals, it had been an idyllic paradise. Then the Dominion came. Their surveys detected large deposits of rare element used in weapons and materials needed to synthesize ketracel white, in addition it was located strategically for trade routes. The Tarwani had initially, like so many, welcomed the Dominion. The Vorta had come promising riches and technological advancement; and they indeed shared their advanced technology with them. Rivers that the Tarwani had never dared tame were yoked for energy, the dark forests were penetrated and plundered as the Dominion showed them how to mine their resources. At first the Tarwani had been all too happy to labor, but then as the extractive nature of the Dominion became clearer, they grew restless. The Dominion demanded tribute in the form of nearly all of the extracted minerals, leaving the Tarwani with only a fraction of the goods to trade to other races. When a group of their leaders finally refused the tribute the Dominion offered them two choices. Either they could join the Dominion willingly, and continue to give most of their resources to the Dominion, or they could be yoked as easily as the rivers by the Jem’Hadar.

 

As they soon learned their story was far from unique. Dozens of species that they were introduced to by their Vorta ‘friends’ shared their plight: join the Dominion or face slavery and extermination. Stories like the plight of the Teplan, who’d resisted the Dominion and were rewarded with a terrible plague that left their civilization in ruins, made the choice easier. Only one of the major clans of Tarwani spoke against Dominion membership; the Jem’Hadar silenced them in brutally efficient fashion. For their passivity and ‘service’ to the Founders, the Tarwani were given relative autonomy over their governance and allowed to control the meager portion of their resources not allocated directly to the Founders.

 

Alana Th’Shaen sat quietly considering that arrangement in the sweeping open air office of the eighteenth floor of what was officially known as Local Government Control Center 598eu-P9A. It was unusual for a Dominion building, as they had allowed the locals to construct and design it. Most buildings the Vorta designed were in contrast utilitarian, usually with few or no windows. LGCC 598eu-P9A, or as the locals called it ‘the Tower,’ was a sloping organic design with many windows and open-air terraces. Alana exhaled. The Vorta had only allowed the somewhat ostentatious design only to ‘honor’ the Tarwani for nearly a century of good behavior.

 

She had been elected by the diet of clan leaders to represent her people in affairs with the Dominion nearly two years ago, a position once held by her father. Her election had been predicated on her promise to gain more autonomy and greater control of resources, given the Dominion’s weakened state. At first she’d approached the issue conventionally. Informing the Vorta Adjutant of their request. He had, unsurprisingly proven averse. Around that time, she’d also been approached by individuals claiming to represent various governments of the Alpha Quadrant offering to supply her people with weapons should they wish to overthrow the Dominion.

 

Violence, however, had never been the Tarwani solution and she had in few uncertain terms rejected their offer. While violent resistance by others the men had claimed to have supported had been somewhat successful in securing freedom from the Dominion, most of the planets involved had been relatively fringe planets of little tactical or material value to the Dominion. Other planets, she insisted, had successfully negotiated their exit from the Dominion, or had been abandoned by the Dominion voluntarily as they engaged in what the Vorta Council referred to as a ‘strategic reassessment of assets.’ The Vorta Adjutant, however, was quick to remind her that Tarwani was not planet the Dominion would or frankly could give up. That was when Semil had come to her.

 

Semil was much like every other Vorta she had met. His spoke with a sweet voice that belied the hardness of his resolve. His pale eyes bore little emotion, yet within him she sense something different, something she could not quite place. It had been that something which had caused her to listen to him. He claimed to serve the Hundred, a group of rogue Founders who sought to change the Dominion, to ‘alter its course of self-destruction and of hate.’ She had heard of them. It had been nearly six cycles since the Vorta Council, then under the direction of Keevan, had declared them heretical and began a purge, blaming them for a series of devastating attacks on Jem’Hadar and Vorta Cloning facilities. She had questioned Semil on those attacks, and he had protested so strongly she couldn’t help but to believe him. He had confirmed to her what rumors had long said -- that those attacks had been carried out by the Scorpiads in prelude to their invasion of the Dominion. Still there was a lingering unease about trusting any Vorta.

 

Peaceful resistance, he had said, was the only way to accomplish the goal of a free, independent Tarwani. They had began slowly and small. Small groups of workers began to ask their Dominion supervisors for better working conditions, while her government requested more autonomy and a larger share of their resources, and at first those demands had been met. Work weeks were slashed and safety had improved marginally. The Dominion had further allowed them greater control over their judiciary but balked at returning more resources to the local people. Encouraged by their victories, and at Semil’s suggestion, the Tarwani asked for even more. The Dominion had refused those requests. That was when the Tarwani began first small scale protests that grew into larger ones. When the Vorta Adjutant refused to grant their requests, the protests grew and grew until every major mining, shipping and manufacturing center on the planet was at a full scale strike.

 

Alana sighed. Perhaps she should have taken the Dominion’s offer then. They offered near autonomy and an increase to nearly ten percent of all mined resources, as well as allowing looser trade restrictions with non-Dominion sources. It was a good offer, and Semil had all but begged her to take it. But the Dominon was weak, her council said, and this was their best, perhaps only chance, to break free their binding.

 

“I told you,” Semil said, breaking her train of thought, “that Taenix would only be pushed so far. She’s no fool.” Her eyes narrowed. “We cannot simply surrender now. We’ve come too far.”

 

Semil’s weak eyes flickered for a moment. He had been as surprised as anyone when a massive fleet arrived in orbit. While the Dominion had attempted blockades of the various systems that had attempted succeed, they had never made such a show of force. (Likely, he noted somewhat matter of factly, because they didn’t need to. It wasn’t as if any of these worlds had the means to resist a full-scale Jem’Hadar assault.) They had made their demands clear: either the Tarwani accepted their now far sweeter terms and returned to work, or the Jem’Hadar would begin culling them until they did.

 

“You don’t believe that,” he said. It didn’t take a telepath to know it, either. “Taenix will follow through with that threat, of that I assure you. She cannot afford to lose your planet, and the Council is already fractured as it is, if she were to allow you to simply leave...”

 

Alana held her hand up. They had been over this now a dozen times. “They cannot afford to replace us, either.”

 

“You would rather die?” That was a strange notion to Semil, and one he had not considered.

 

“Death,” Alana said darkly, “is meaningless to us now. We have tasted our freedom, and we cannot go back now. If we simply cave to their demands, if we let them bully us now, then we will never be free of them. The Dominion is weak now, but if we wait, they will grow strong again...”

 

He wondered if she truly believed that, but decided not to press her further. “Very well then, if that is the choice your people have made. I can no longer be of assistance to you.”

 

Alana’s voice was still dark tinged with hurt, regret and anger. “So now you abandon us? I should have expected that. Courage is not a word your people have ever known.”

 

Semil’s face remained expressionless. “I came to you to offer help in your struggle against the Dominion, but if you are determined to see the end of your species, there is little point in me continuing to advise you or your people.”

 

“What other choice do we have? If we bow to them now, now after all we have accomplished, we might as well be dead. You wouldn’t understand.

 

“I should have taken the outsiders up in their offer, at least then we’d be able to defend ourselves. Go. I should have known better to trust one of you. It cost my people once, and now it costs again.”

 

For a very brief moment, Semil’s expression shattered, Alana’s words lashing at him like a whip. “If that is your decision,” he said quietly, before restoring his placid facade. “I wish I could offer you more help, but violence will not solve your problems. If you resist them violently, Taenix will be forced. I told you, I do not think she wants this, but she has no choice.”

 

“And neither do I, but you do.”

 

Semil lifted a brow quizzically, tipping his head to one side. “I do not see how.”

 

“You have ships and guns and Jem’Hadar of your own. You promised me that the Hundred would help us in anyway you could. Well there you have it. The outsiders from the Alpha Quadrant cannot or will not interfere, but you can. Call upon your fleets. Do you think Taenix will risk an all out conflict with them over our planet alone?”

 

He closed his eyes and exhaled. He had worried when this would come. “I cannot do that.”

 

“Yes,” Alana said emphatically, “You can. You choose not to. There’s a difference.”

 

“No,” he said, “I cannot. There is no choice. Keevan’s crusade against us, as well as the war against the Scorpiad depleted our forces. We have only begun to rebuild, and if we show ourselves, we risk an even greater conflict...”

 

“So in the end,” her voice was acid, “you’re just like any other Vorta. I don’t know why I am surprised.”

 

Semil looked away. Vorta were rarely, if ever, what other species could refer to as emotional. They simply weren’t given those predispositions by their makers. Yet he could not help but feel hurt. For a several moments, he remained silent, considering his response. Finally, gathering himself, he replied in the hallmark stoic evenness of his people. “Alana,” he said calmly. “I have done everything I can for your people, but we cannot become involved directly. If we do, and we lose the battle, your people will an even heavier price, and I will be powerless to help you and the many other races we are working with the bring about change in the Dominion.”

 

Her temper flared, until she caught his inflexion. “Wait,” she said, “you can’t help us directly...”

 

“That is correct.” Semil tipped his head.

 

“But you could help us indirectly.”

 

“Explain.”

 

“I am sure you know as well as I do that during the Scorpiad War, the planetary defense grid was updated significantly, unfortunately it remains locked out...”

 

The Vorta’s expression remained unchanged, though Alana thought she saw the fleetingness of smiles cross his face. “They would still be able to beam Jem’Hadar to the surface,” he said plainly, “thought you could at least defend yourselves without our direct involvement, or taking up arms yourselves. I believe that Taenix is loathe to lose resources in this conflict, perhaps they will be willing to consider more favorable terms.”

 

“So our dream of complete freedom is dead then?” It was more statement than question. In her heart, she had always known that dream was unrealistic, but it was still so incredibly close.

 

“I give you my word that I will continue to help you in any way I can,” Semil said solemnly. “As I told you when we first met. I serve the Founders not because I must, but because I choose to serve them. We want what is best for all of the peoples of the Gamma Quadrant, and eventually, I believe your people will be truly free, but that day is not today.”

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Epic in scope. Rich in characterization.

Well done, Captain Swain.

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