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Jeralla

Scene of the Crime

Beneath the expansive, multi-deck viewport on Deck 18, Jeralla Ramson watched from an unobtrusive table alongside the Replimat. Other patrons of the Midway milled about drinking their raktajino, nearly overwhelming the pleasant aroma of the hot fish juice she'd secured as her own morning beverage.

 

She took a sip, avoiding eye contact with yet another Starfleet security officer as he slowed his pace, observing her in passing. He would certainly check her description against the terrorist database after finishing his rounds. As one of the few Cardassians aboard Sky Harbor Aegis, Jeralla found it hard to keep a low profile, especially in so public a place. The crewman would be disappointed, no doubt, to learn she was just an ordinary citizen who had already provided diplomatic credentials to their chief. Ambassador T'Salik had, as always, been officious in that formality.

 

Unfortunately, the ambassador was no longer aboard.

 

It had been an uneasy thing for Jeralla to stay behind while her Vulcan mentor returned to the dangers on Cardassia Prime. It reminded her too much of how, as a youth of sixteen, she'd been forced to leave her own father in the wake of the Klingon invasion eight years ago. She'd never seen him again.

 

But T'Salik had left clear direction.

* * * * *

 

It had been days earlier, after a contentious encounter with Rear Admiral Meve. The ambassador had returned to their assigned cabin on Aegis. In few words, she made it plain she would be returning to Cardassia Prime with no promise of Starfleet assistance in monitoring the upcoming elections. "Against logic," she'd explained, "the admiral continues to observe a policy of non-engagement in Cardassian affairs. It is small wonder the Freedom Party gains such ground, asserting that Aegis exists merely to thwart progress on your homeworld. In essence, he suggested I return and enforce order myself."

 

"We're going back?" Jeralla had tapped into her wrist pad.

 

T'Salik stood, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind the delicate point of her ear. "No," she answered, dropping into typical terseness. "Remain aboard Aegis. Arrange safe passage to Starbase 405 for my daughters. I spoke with D'Mysus and Saraina beforehand. Your godparents have agreed to receive them."

 

Jeralla had been uncertain as to why she shouldn't also go to Canar, but T'Salik had continued, "I'm concerned that Aegis has learned nothing about the disappearance of Ambassador Raumuk." It had been weeks since the noted Andorian had been scheduled to relieve her, but had never arrived at the Federation compound. "Avoid disrupting station operations," she instructed, "but do not hesitate to employ your credentials in making further inquiries. You are an official Federation attaché and a Cardassian citizen. My husband would chide me, but Starfleet occasionally needs to be reminded that they work for us, not the other way around."

 

* * * * *

 

And so she remained on Sky Harbor. Having already sent her three Vulcan charges to SB405, Jeralla spent each day on the Midway, noticing repairs, enjoying the familiarity of Drankum's, and keeping a clear vantage on the Docking Complex entrance where passengers were received. shiKatsu Raumuk had been last seen boarding a shuttle from this location. Perhaps her godfather's security training had worn off, but something compelled her to linger near "the scene of the crime."

 

She almost didn't notice him.

 

He was among the many undistinguished Cardassians disembarking off a routine shuttle from the homeworld, but he paused momentarily near the ramp beside Customs. The movement had been natural, but he drew something fragile from inside a fold of his finely-made tunic and set it on the deck.

 

Jeralla took a lingering sip of fish juice, using the mug to cover her face as she watched him stand and move off. In a moment, he was lost among the Midway crowds. Her eyes darted back to the purplish object laying a few meters from her table.

 

Certain she'd witnessed some fleeting glimpse of intrigue, she set the mug down roughly, spilling some of its contents on the Replimat table. With a few hurried steps, she crossed the Midway venue, ready to alert one of the Starfleet officers.

 

But no sinister-looking bomb or well-placed sensor awaited her eager eyes. An Edosian orchid, she recognized. An exotic and rare flower, particularly in this region of space. She glanced into the crowd. Had he simply dropped it?

 

Jeralla bent low, noting the careful placement of the blossom, where foot traffic would not crush it. A scrap of paper was tied to the stem. Gingerly, she pushed it open, noticing the Cardassian script inside: "In memory of an unsung hero. The never ending sacrifice continues."

 

She pulled her hand away and stood, suddenly concerned she was defiling some hallowed object. Was the note a reference to the epic novel, she wondered, a real event, or both? Was it connected to the disappearance of Ambassador Raumuk, or did it have some other significance? With more questions than answers, she suddenly felt even further from the task her mentor had given her.

Edited by Jeralla

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