Stirrings of Freedom

[Captain Halloway 0]

Part 2 of a joint log series with Captain Sorehl, with appreciation for some additional coordination with shiKame.

 

Trivas system, Cardassian space...

 

“…in our continued transition from a military dictatorship to a civilian-led society,” intoned the elderly Cardassian at the dias. “A small step, but an important one.”

 

Dispassionate, Captain Sorehl listened to the words of Councilor Tolan Revix from his stance in the Promenade of Empok Nor. The official transfer of authority ceremony was nearly complete. As the outgoing commanding officer, Sorehl had been required to offer parting words summarizing the success of their three-year mission.

 

In typical Vulcan precision, he had narrated the reacquisition of the errant station, its return and stabilization within the Trivas system, rebuilding of its failed and missing fusion reaction chambers, and general system refurbishment. He described adaptation of the station’s uridium mining capacity to process kelindide, toranium, and rodinium – critical minerals in the building of spaceframes. With this, the Cardassians could build new stations, commercial ships, and defenses which could make them more self-sufficient and less politically volatile. Adaptation of the ecosystem on Trivas IV had allowed the development of extensive agricultural resources, reducing dependency on external food sources. The final phase had included installation of defensive hardware to protect the station from threats, particularly the recent spate of privateering Breen ships.

 

His speech had been followed by those of the ranking Federation dignitary, Ambassador shiKatsu Raumuk, as well as a litany of Cardassian commercial, military, and political officials. Revix was the last, a representative of the ruling civilian government. Unsurprisingly, his speech had been the longest.

 

“And so,” the reptilian statesman raised his voice in conclusion, “on behalf of the Detapa Council, it is with great pleasure that I accept this facility as a lasting symbol of friendship between the United Federation of Planets and the Cardassian Union.”

 

Beside him, Ambassador Raumuk nodded approvingly and leapt to his feet. The Andorian diplomat extended his hand to the Councilor as dignified, if somewhat muted, applause broke out from the assembly. Above them, the Federation banner lowered slowly to the sounds of its associated anthem, leaving only the Cardassian standard hanging from the second level. Commander Grumveld, the Tellarite executive officer, directed the color guard with short, barked instructions as they folded the emblem withdrew the standard from view.

 

Sorehl watched with approval, noting the sparseness of Starfleet officers among the crowd. Less than fifty of the crew remained aboard, most having already moved on to their new assignments.

 

“Well, that’s it then,” came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Corris Sprint behind him, “you’re officially a free man, captain.”

 

The Vulcan glanced back at his now-former operations officer. “On the contrary, Mr. Sprint,” Sorehl answered, gesturing to the assembled dignitaries, “there are still some hours left to our sentence.”

 

The Bijanni adjusted his dress uniform with a slight chuckle. Following the captain, he stepped down from the platform, wading into the pool of diplomatic waters.

 

* * * * *

 

Drinking his scotch and kanar, Captain Thomas Halloway glanced through the crowd that continued to linger on the Promenade. He’d caught a few wary glances among the Cardassians, but had encountered only good behavior thusfar. The privation of war seemed to have diminished the resentment over his past exploits. More likely, he told himself, no one even knows who I am. He laughed at his inflated sense of importance.

 

Ambassador Raumuk was having an animated discussion with the High Councilor. Halloway had met the Andorian envoy during an earlier mission in the Sarejvante system. He was an excitable sort, quite smitten with Federation ideals, but he masked a shrewd understanding of his counterparts. Captain Sorehl stood beside them in his dress whites, hands clasp behind his back, making little comment.

 

Halloway rattled the ice in his glass with a smirk, bringing it to his lips.

 

Another figure, a Cardassian, stepped into the group.

 

Halloway narrowed his eyes and lowered the drink, searching the features. This one he knew. Not an old nemesis from the border skirmishes, he realized. This one was a new player.

 

“It is a great day for Cardassia,” the new arrival offered.

 

Raumuk stopped mid-sentence, noting the presence. “Yes,” he answered, recovering. “I would think you’d say so, Mr. Ethton.”

 

Kaj Ethton, Halloway finally recognized, architect of the newest, rising political party on Cardassia Prime. An unelected essayist who’d shaped a rough collection of former True Way sympathizers and veterans into a populist movement. What in the quadrant was he doing here?

 

Ethton regarded the Andorian not unlike a snake regarding its next meal. “Some would have liked to see it sooner,” he noted.

 

Halloway bristled visibly before catching himself. Both Andorian and Vulcan remained impassive. “The return of this station,” Raumuk noted, “was under the strict guidance and timetable set by your government.”

 

“The current government,” Ethton observed.

 

Councilor Revix snorted.

 

“Things will change soon enough. The Reunion party is still looking to the past, councilor,” Ethton asserted, emphasizing the last word with some distain. “What our people thirst for is freedom. Freedom from fools like the Central Command who weakened us. Freedom from the hunger and disease the Dominion left us. Freedom from external influences. Freedom to rebuild a new Cardassia in our own image.”

 

The ambassador tilted his head downward, leveling his antenna toward Ethton. “I see your reputation for rhetoric is well justified,” he observed with the cool precision of his craft.

 

“The Federation has been a friend to our people, even in defeat,” Revix countered, finally lumbering into the exchange.

 

“No denying it,” Ethton responded. “But even friends can overstay their welcome.”

 

“I’m sure the Bajorans felt the same way,” Halloway found himself saying.

 

The conversation grew quiet as eyes turned toward the previously silent captain. Sorehl’s gaze suggested mild disapproval.

 

“It is that kind of old bitterness that keeps your people so interested in keeping a foot on our soil and an eye in our sky,” Ethton remarked.

 

A subtle reference to Aegis, Halloway noted. “Well,” he ventured further, “after all, Ben Maxwell may have been paranoid, but that didn’t make him wrong, did it?”

 

Raumuk closed his eyes briefly, with a slight shake of the head. Sorehl, for his part, merely raised an eyebrow.

Edited January 22, 2008 by Captain Halloway