Worlds Without End, Part XXI

"I doubt anyone could imagine brutality on the scale the Cardassians continue to display," the recording of Amb. Talva spoke. "And yet, we see example after example of how they are willing to slaughter the innocent without rhyme or reason." There was a brief pause. "After much deliberation, it has been decided that peaceful coexistence with the Cardassians is an impossibility. It is a step we do not take lightly, indeed it is one we'd rather not take at all. But the simple fact is, they represent a clear and perpetual danger to both the Federation and the Empire, as well as the other independent worlds fighting to defend themselves from Cardassian tyranny. It is for this reason that we will not stop until the Cardassian military has been dismantled, and their villainous leaders removed from power. I regret that these measures must be taken, but if we are to ever bring peace to the quadrant and freedom to the Cardassians, it is the only way."

Capt. Price keyed off the comm, then turned to Leia. "Well, this will certainly push the issue with the Cardies."

Leia made no reply, but she had to agree with the assessment. While the Romulans had listened to reason and agreed to an alliance, the Cardassians had remained stubborn in their distrust. Despite the recommendations of the Romulan Senate they had refused to discuss anything involving the rebellion. Hopefully the pressure the Empire and Federation were about to bring would convince them otherwise. Unfortunately, Leia was becoming less sure if allying with them was such a good idea. "How many people were on Deep Space 9?" she asked quietly.

Price thought for a moment. "Maybe ten thousand. Depends on the amount of traffic when the Cardies invaded." There was silence. "It's hard to believe they'd destroy it. There were almost certainly Cardassians on board at the time."

"Yes," Leia said thoughtfully. Still, there was no denying the reality of the situation. There was a war going on, and in war, sadly, people die. It's unavoidable. Many more would probably be killed before the threat that was the Empire was removed from this galaxy. And yet, the thought of fighting alongside someone who was really no better than the Empire did not sit well with her at all. It was difficult, justifying such a disregard for what they believed in. But what was the alternative? Even with the Cardassians on their side, the cause seemed hopeless. The rebellion hadn't been able to stop the Empire, let alone the forces of the Federation and the Klingons. As distasteful as it may be, the Cardassians were a necessary evil if there was any hope for victory.

Of course, the thought was entirely academic at this point, since the Cardassians hadn't agreed to join the "New Alliance" as it was called. But with this announcement, with the threat of total demilitarization hanging over their heads, maybe they would see the light.

"How long have you fought the Empire?" Price asked.

Leia sighed slightly, the weight of the years hanging heavy on her young shoulders. "I've hated it all my life," Leia said, memories of her father's frustrations coming back to her. "In my years in the Senate I took every action to curb Imperial policies and try to restore the Republic. After some time, I realized that we were accomplishing nothing, and that the injustices continued despite our best efforts. Eventually I joined the alliance, but only as an information provider and diplomat; I didn't spend much time learning combat training."

"You wouldn't know from watching," Price commented.

"That's not quite what I meant," Leia replied. "I mean, I was never trained to be a soldier. Being a Jedi isn't the same thing, not by a long shot."

"I can understa-" Price was cut off by a voice from the comm.

"Captain, there's a message coming through from Senator Velnic," it said.

"Acknowledged," she replied, tapping her communicator. She stepped over and activated the display on the wall of the meeting room.

"Ambassador Organa. Captain," the Senator spoke formally. "The Cardassians have just informed us that they're accepting the invitation to join the New Alliance. In addition, thirteen independent systems have joined as well."

"Excellent," Leia replied, her mixed feelings coming back. Of course, now was not the time to voice such thoughts. "We'll need to gather and discuss our next course of action. For the sake of political stability, we'll need a decisive victory by our forces relatively soon, to show that the New Alliance is making progress."

"Agreed," the senator replied. "I'll arrange an organization of Romulan and Cardassian military commanders to meet with your experts. Together we'll work out a plan of attack and hopefully a campaign to rid the quadrant of this evil."

With that the senator was gone. Price stepped forward and keyed off the display. There was a noticeable look of concern on her face. "I don't like when politics gets involved in warfare," she commented. "The result is usually needless bloodshed."

Leia nodded slightly, understanding the reason for Price's concern. She had spent a great deal of time learning more about the Dominion War, and learned about the terrible toll the war had had on the Federation. It was obvious now why they had sided with the Empire; they had probably been seen as a savior instead of the brutal dictatorship it clearly was. They'd allowed necessity to blind them to the Empire's crimes.

Leia put a hand to her head. And yet you'll side with the Cardassians, she scolded herself. Admit it, Leia, you're in no position to judge anyone.

Seven of Nine was at work in one of the science labs when Data arrived; he'd offered to assist her in her investigation, and she'd accepted, knowing he was an invaluable source of information and ideas. "Good evening, lieutenant," he said. Seven acknowledged him, but continued working. "Before we continue our investigations, I thought I would implement an environmental adjustment."

"What kind, exactly?" Seven asked, continuing her work.

"In my studies, I have learned that humans often surround themselves with items of humor to increase their productivity. I have consulted with Geordi and he provided me with this." Seven turned and Data held up a sign.

"The beatings will continue until morale improves," it said.

Seven turned away from Data and returned to her work at the console. Data frowned and put his sign down. "Do you not understand the meaning of the sign?" Data finally asked, a look of curiosity and concern on his face. "I will admit that humor was originally a concept my program could not master-"

"I am familiar with humor," Seven replied. She had learned rather quickly that although Lt. Comm. Data was brilliant -far more than even she was, she'd admitted- he had a tendency to state the obvious. "I simply do not find it amusing."

Data's brow furrowed. "Strange. When Geordi showed me the sign I found it quite humorous. It is a contradiction you see; morale, of course, cannot be improved through consistent repetitive punishments, particularly ones of such-"

"I understand," Seven interrupted, continuing her work. "I simply do not find it humorous."

Data put down the sign, clearly thinking. Finally he stepped forward. "Knock knock," he said, and waited.

Seven turned slightly to look at him, her hands still working the console. "Do you require something?"

Data hesitated. "The traditional reply is 'Who is there?'" he prompted.

"I am capable of identifying you without requesting confirmation," Seven said, her attention refocused on her analysis.

"No," Data responded, ever patient. "This brand of humor is referred to as a 'knock knock' joke. It is a rudimentary form of humor, often utilizing puns or wordplay."

"Commander," Seven said, turning away from the workstation for the first time. "I am aware that in this hierarchy you possess a more authoritative position, and thus I am compelled by my duty to obey your commands. However, as this is my investigation, I request that you terminate this irrelevant line of discussion."

Data nodded in agreement. "Of course. It was not my wish to disturb you." Data turned and hung his sign on the wall.

Seven got back to her work, but then stopped. The interruption had gotten her thinking... "Commander, may I engage you in a topic of a personal nature?"

"Certainly, lieutenant," Data said.

Seven seemed slightly ill at ease. "It is my understanding that you have had experience in personal development with this crew... in the area of human understanding."

"If you are referring to my efforts to be more human, yes," Data said. He cocked his head. "Is that what you seek, lieutenant?"

"No," she said, perhaps a little faster than she should have. "Captain Picard has provided me some guidance on this. But a question has arisen for me, one which I cannot bring to him.... it occurred to me that you may have experience in this area."

"I will endeavor to help you, lieutenant," Data said.

"I-" She faltered. "I trust you will not share this with others," she said.

"Assuming this is a matter that will not affect your ability to perform your duty, no."

"I have found myself... thinking about someone."

"Yes?"

"Yes," Seven said.

"Is there any significance to this?"

Seven opened her mouth and shut it. "I find myself thinking about this person at odd times."

"Perhaps it would be clearer if you said who it was you were thinking about," Data said.

"It is..." Seven looked down. "It is not important."

"Lieutenant," Data said. "If your thoughts are of a member of the crew-"

"He's not," Seven said. "He's-" She faltered. "He's the Rebel."

"Ah, the one you are investigating," Data said. "That is why you are thinking about him."

"No," Seven said. "I have not been thinking about him from an academic standpoint... I... I find myself..."

"Am I to deduce from your statements, and your unwillingness to discuss this with others, that you are experiencing physical attraction towards this individual?"

"I do not even know this individual," Seven said. "To be attracted to him would be impossible."

Data frowned and shook his head a little. "I disagree, lieutenant. You can experience attraction from subconscious extrapolations based upon your observations. For example, the rebel's proficiency and control in the engagement may lead you to conclude that he would be an appealing counterpart, a protector who understands the need for restraint and dispassion. You may feel an attraction towards what he represents rather than what he is."

"That is irrational," Seven said, with a small amount of self-disappointment in her voice.

"Not at all. I have on numerous occasions thought of Lieutenant Tasha Yar, whom I had-" Data considered, "-let us call them 'feelings' for lack of a better term. Yet she has been dead for many years. It is not unnatural."

Seven swallowed and looked down. "I have spoken often to the captain of the paradoxes of human emotions. With this I am experiencing another. I greatly desire to learn more about this man, to possibly meet him and talk with him. And yet, the thought of doing so is... terrifying." She looked up at Data. "Is that rational?"

Data considered. "No," he said. Seven's face became even more downcast. "But I must confess that despite my efforts to be more like humans, I do not fully understand them. You may seek enlightenment from the captain, or Counselor Troi."

"No, I cannot," Seven said.

Data thought about the remark. "Why can you talk to me, yet not to them?"

Seven wet her lips as she thought of how to express it. "Because humans would view this feeling through their own perspectives, and would inevitably allow it to influence their interactions with me. I know that you are devoid of such prejudices, that you would view me in the same manner you always have."

"That is correct," Data said. "And I will keep your secret, lieutenant."

"Thank you, commander," Seven said. She paused. "While I do not find your sign humorous, I do appreciate your efforts in improving our efficiency. I will be sorry to see you depart the Enterprise."

"Thank you. I will miss you as well, lieutenant. Your presence has been intellectually stimulating." Seven nodded and hesitantly returned to work. Data did as well, for a while. "Have you thought at all about-" he began as he looked up, but noticed she was fixated on the display. "Have you learned something?" he asked.

Seven looked up at him. "Where's the captain?" she asked quickly.

"He is in Paris," Data replied, "attending the celebratory dinner held by the council."

"I must speak with him at once," Seven replied, urgency in her voice.

Data shook his head. "The captain cannot be disturbed. It is a political function, one which requires his full attention. I have learned that despite necessity, such events must take precedence over matters of apparently higher concern. You will have to wait until 2300 hours."

"Then I must speak with the Commander," Seven replied, her voice filled with urgency and frustration. "Immediately."

"What have you learned?" Data asked, curiously.

"I am not certain," Seven replied, a rare look of worry on her face. "But I believe it sheds a light on the destruction of Deep Space 9, and possibly on this entire war."

Picard sat back as the second course was placed in front of him. The banquet was dull, but that seemed to be one of the requirements of an official banquet. But it all came with the pips. This was the six month anniversary of the meeting of the Empire and the Federation; not something one would normally consider noteworthy, but apparently someone thought it would be an opportunity to strengthen relations, especially during the recent escalation of the war. He had been invited because of his role in the peace negotiations, as had Captain Janeway, Admiral Jellico, and several other officers. Even Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned from the Borg campaign to attend this celebration. It had provided Picard with a rather high position on the table, seated across from Amb. Talva himself. As was expected, they engaged in formal but polite conversation.

Unfortunately, the most dominating thought on Picard's mind was Talva's speech. He'd had almost two days to think it over, and every time it seemed worse and worse.

The President stood up at the head of the table, being the highest ranking official in the room. Lord Vader, strangely enough, was nowhere to be seen, but Picard wondered how he would even eat with that strange mask in the first place. Does he even eat, Picard wondered. He had learned that Seven of Nine's assessment was correct, that Darth Vader was a cyborg. The Borg didn't eat, Picard thought, and neither does Seven for that matter, so perhaps he doesn't either. He focused on the here and now as the President raised his glass.

"To the Empire and the Federation," he spoke, catching just the right mix of formality and volume. "May they be forever united in peace and prosperity."

Several glasses were raised in acknowledgement. Picard watched Talva sip his. "Hopefully peace will be coming soon enough," Talva said, setting down his glass.

"It would come much sooner," Picard said, "if we stopped escalating our conflicts." Mentally he kicked himself; the wine loosened his tongue a bit too much. Now was the time for diplomacy.

"Peace at what price," demanded the representative of Ooleva. "To die in our beds from Cardassian attacks instead of in battle?"

"I'm sure that's not what the captain meant," Talva replied, a slight smile on his lips. "He's concerned about the preservation of life, as we all are."

It was a fine rescue, which saved the situation from escalating into a full-blown argument with the ambassador. Very astute... but the problem was, Picard was tired of the twisting of words, of cries for "safety" and "security" being used as an excuse to further bloodshed; of the words "preservation of life" twisted to justify taking it. "Which is why I'm not in favor of an extended invasion of Cardassian space," Picard said, taking a sip of his own drink. There, he'd said it. He could at least look himself in the mirror.

"Oh, I quite agree captain," Talva said, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and sorrow. "Alas, if the Cardassians had not forced this upon us, we could adopt a more humane solution. It's unfortunate that they're too primitive to understand the benefits of coexistence."

"Will this really protect the Federation," Picard replied, "or isn't it just an excuse for revenge."

"Yes to both," Talva replied.

Picard stopped as he reached for his fork. He couldn't believe the ambassador actually admitted it, but then, the Empire never did claim to be "evolved" like the Federation often did. Still... "You're admitting this is being done at least in part out of revenge?"

"Absolutely," Talva said, his smile gleaming. "It's a natural reaction and I see no need to deny it. The Cardassians slaughtered innocent people -our people- and together we will punish them. What is the problem with that?"

"The problem," Picard said, preparing to take another sip, "is that such emotions are very dangerous. I'm sure the Vulcan's would agree."

"Yes," Talva said, his smile slightly icy. "So would the Borg."

Picard did his best not to spit his drink back out. Well played, ambassador, he thought. Not only do you equate my position with the evils of the Borg, but you get the chance to rub my own desire for revenge upon them in my face. You know just what words to use, even without your speechwriters to help you. Picard should have known that he was out of his league in taking on Talva.

A tap on his shoulder drew his attention away from the table. A well-dressed server whispered to him that there was a persistent message from the Enterprise that he speak with them immediately. Thank goodness, Picard thought, a way out of this conversation with what little bits of my dignity are still intact. He excused himself and walked out of the hall. Keying the display, he saw his first officer, a look of agitation on his face. "What is it, Number One?"

"Sir," Riker said, "Lt. of Nine has completed her analysis of the Battle of Bajor. It's important that you see it right away."

"It's that important," Picard asked with a frown. The dinner was significant, but Riker had served under him long enough to know what is an emergency and what could wait.

Riker nodded. "You have no idea."

Go To Part XXII
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