Second self, p.6
Second Self, page 6
“It’s going to have to be,” she said.
“I’m thinking,” he said, “of Freecloud—”
“He did great on Freecloud!”
“Raffi…”
“Look, Cris, what am I supposed to do? I can’t take the kid in blind. And he’s not stupid. He knows when to keep quiet.”
“I’m not sure that he does,” said Rios, and then the chime on the door sounded and Elnor arrived. Raffi hoped that their welcome wasn’t overly and suspiciously effusive. Easing out of her chair, she took up what had, once upon a time, been a familiar position—standing at the front of a room, delivering a briefing.
“All right,” she said. “Our stated mission is to observe and, if necessary, mediate between the Romulans and the Cardassians over the ongoing Romulan refugee crisis on Ordeve. I want to give you some background about the world. It’s had a tangled history, and we need to keep all these nuances in mind while we’re there. I think the Federation is the only local power not to stake a claim to the place, but even we have been drawn into its affairs over the years.”
She called up a holo-chart of the Ordevian system and directed their attention to the fifth planet. “It’s the only Class-M planet in the system,” she said. “Settled originally by the Bajorans—we don’t know the exact date, and the Bajorans don’t either. There’s a great deal about their earlier history that’s lost to the mists of time.” She stared at the image of Ordeve, a gold globe spinning beside her. “The Bajoran settlements weren’t extensive and were primarily religious in nature. Monasteries, temples, and so on, although supported by small farming communities. I think the distance from Bajor itself meant that Ordeve drew people from contemplative orders. People who didn’t mind the quiet. I’m guessing here.”
She punched up some data, and the main dates of Ordevian history overlaid the holo-image of the planet.
“The Cardassians came to Ordeve in the 2330s. By 2340, there were no Bajorans left on the world. They moved on, the Cardassians claimed, but that’s not completely true.”
She saw that Rios was frowning; he got it. But Elnor said, “What do you mean?”
“I mean that at the very least, there were forced displacements. I’m also pretty sure there was at least one direct massacre. It’s hard,” she said, “after time passes, to prove anything. Isn’t that incredible? Even now, with all the technology we have at our disposal, it’s possible for a place to be remote enough that one group can, without impunity, murder members of another group. That seems to have been a pattern on Ordeve. That was the reason that I was ordered there after the Dominion War.”
She pulled up some more key dates.
“Start of the Dominion War, 2373. The Romulan entry into the war, the following year. The Cardassian revolution, eight weeks before the war ended, in 2375. The Jem’Hadar massacre of the Cardassian people, generally known as the Fire, the last week of the war. The end of the Dominion War, 2375.” She eyed her audience. “Cris, you must remember some of this. Elnor”—he was so young—“just try to remember the basics.”
She brought up a second line of dates, that ran to the left-hand side of the ones already there. “If you picked out any Cardassian colony world, you’d find a very different story about what happened at the end of the Dominion War. A lot depended on how much damage the Jem’Hadar managed to do. Even more depended on whether they were on the Federation front, or the Romulan front. Ordeve was the latter. The Romulans arrived there a few months before the ceasefire. Starfleet sent in observers just after the Cardassians switched sides. When the war ended, the Romulans claimed the world. The Cardassians on Ordeve—there weren’t many left by then, and most of them were civilians—believed that the Romulans intended to massacre them. They asked Starfleet to send in observers, peacekeepers, to make sure this didn’t happen. That’s why I was there. But we were spread pretty thin.”
She took a breath. There was a trick to delivering briefings like this, where you’d been personally involved. Stick to the facts, and plow right on through.
“Tensions were high, particularly in this region.” She focused the map on a specific area of Ordeve’s main continent. “A Cardassian settlement, Ghenic, was coming under siege by Romulan forces. Starfleet intervention prevented a massacre, and the Romulans were ultimately persuaded by Starfleet to withdraw from Ordeve.” She could see Rios, looking at her closely. He knew. He knew there was more to this. “After that, the world returned to Cardassian control, and has, more or less, thrived, although the population was reduced. After the Romulan star went supernova, they took in a large number of Romulan refugees. Scored a few points from the Federation. Despite the history of the world, the settlements have been successful. The problem is—the Romulans now want to increase their numbers on Ordeve. The Cardassians are flatly refusing permission. That’s where we come in—Starfleet. I’ve been given this mission because I have experience on this world, and with one of the Romulans on the ground. This man.”
She brought up a picture of Sokara.
“Nuvu Sokara. Ex–Tal Shiar, now a Romulan liaison to the Cardassian exarch on Ordeve. He’s currently based in Ghenic, and we’re going to meet him there. He was on Earth after the Romulans entered the Dominion War. We first met there, and we met again on Ordeve. We worked well together. I have his trust. I also have the trust of the Cardassians, from my previous work on their behalf.”
“They’re asking you to mediate, Raffi?” said Elnor.
“Stranger things have happened,” Raffi replied.
“I suppose so,” he said. “They could have asked me to mediate.”
Raffi broke into a completely genuine smile. Bless the boy, he tried, didn’t he? He really tried.
“At least they’d know they could believe everything you say, Elnor,” said Rios, with great kindness. “That’s not a small thing.”
Elnor nodded. “Raffi,” he said, “you said this was our stated mission. Does that mean that there is an unstated mission?”
Raffi glanced at Rios, who raised his eyebrows. Your decision, Raff. She swallowed. Was it wise, really, to apprise Elnor of the full situation? Would he remember that he could make a distinction between absolute candor and not saying absolutely everything that came into his head? Or would that strike him as sophistry; exactly the kind of deceit that the Qowat Milat abhorred?
The problem was that when you were offered absolute candor, it was hard not to give it in return. Truth begat truth; that was the Qowat Milat way, and it was damn effective. When it came down to it, Raffi couldn’t bring herself to lie to Elnor. But she could, at least, hope that he would think before he spoke.
Filters, Elnor. Please, remember that you’re allowed filters.
“I’m glad you noticed,” Raffi said. “There is another reason that we’re going to Ordeve. While we’re there, that reason must remain between the three people in this room. Admiral Picard is in the loop, and a handful of people at Starfleet Intelligence. And that’s how it has to stay.”
Elnor screwed up his face. “Raffi,” he said uncertainly, “I’m not comfortable with secrets.”
“Elnor, honey, you’re going to be fine—”
“Remember the advice we gave you last time,” said Rios.
“The advice was not to talk,” said Elnor.
“And it was great advice!” said Rios.
“Advice that remains completely moot,” said Raffi, “if I never finish my briefing.”
Both men looked at her contritely and—more importantly—shut up. Raffi turned back to the holo-display. The image of Sokara’s face dissolved, and the face of their prey appeared. Romulan becoming Cardassian.
“Well, I guess you both know who this is, don’t you?” said Raffi. She looked at her audience, who were shaking their heads. “You don’t know who this is?”
Heads continued to shake.
“This is Elim Garak,” she said.
“Nope,” said Rios.
“Elim Garak. Cris, he was the Cardassian ambassador to the Federation for years!” She called up the relevant dates.
“Sure, okay, right,” said Rios defensively. “You know, I think my parents were breaking up around then. Other things on my mind.”
Raffi turned to Elnor, who said, “I was not yet born.”
“Ancient history, Raff,” said Rios.
“You be careful what you say, Captain,” said Raffi sternly, but this had shaken her. Ancient history. Were they doing the right thing, tracking this man down? Should they simply leave this be? The unexamined life… But that wasn’t her decision. That was above her pay grade—and, ultimately, it was for the Bajorans to decide.
“Elim Garak’s file, in the early years, is pretty sketchy. We know he was an Obsidian Order operative. We know he was the unacknowledged son of the head of the Obsidian Order, the late and almost entirely unlamented Enabran Tain.” She looked at her audience. “You’ve heard of the Obsidian Order?”
Elnor put his hand up. “I have. They were like the Tal Shiar, only…”
“Cardassian,” suggested Rios.
“That’ll do,” said Raffi. “We suspect he was high up in the Order, with all that entails. At some point, he was thrown out—why, exactly, we don’t know, but people who have dealt with him say they’re not surprised. He ended up in exile on Terok Nor, later Deep Space 9. He assisted Starfleet and the Federation with the war effort, code-breaking, and so on.”
“He switched sides?” said Rios, leaning forward in his seat.
Ah, thought Raffi, you’re interested now.
“How did that go down with the Cardassian government?”
“Better, when they switched sides,” said Raffi. “Elim Garak was critical to the resistance movement on Cardassia Prime. This put him on the right side when the war ended. He was appointed Cardassian ambassador to the Federation, a position he held for fifteen years. Crucial to the postwar alliance and the Cardassian reconstruction. He retired from that post… maybe seven or eight years ago. He’s been splitting his time between Paris and Ses’erakh—that’s the Cardassian capital—ever since. Keeping a low profile. About three months ago, the Bajorans asked for his extradition based on evidence they’d gathered on the actions during the Bajoran Occupation. How the hell they put that case together after so long I don’t know, but kudos to Bajoran Intelligence. Anyway, that was when it turned out nobody had seen him for over six months.”
Raffi’s audience was silent. They were looking at the image of the man in front of them: the sharp, intelligent eyes; the curve of the lips, that from one angle made his expression seem cruel and, from another, amused.
“The Bajorans want him. They’re clear about that. The Cardassians—they seem to have washed their hands of him. And the Federation—Starfleet Intelligence… Well, they’d like to close the book on the whole business. People want him apprehended, but don’t necessarily want to be the ones to do it. He’s taken advantage of this. He’s clever,” said Raffi, “he’s months ahead of us, and he is incredibly intelligent and dangerous.”
“And you think you’ll recognize him when you see him?” said Rios.
“He was pretty famous at one point, no matter what the two of you say,” said Raffi.
“He’ll have changed his appearance,” said Rios. “That’s easy to do—”
“I met him once,” said Raffi. “When he was ambassador. He was very distinctive. Honestly, Cris—I think that’s the least of my worries.”
“Tal Shiar,” said Elnor thoughtfully. “But Cardassian. Is he a liar?”
“I imagine so,” said Raffi.
“And a murderer,” said Elnor.
“A mass murderer,” said Raffi. “If Bajoran Intelligence is correct.”
“And we are to find him?” said Elnor. “And bring him back to make restitution for his actions?”
“Yes,” said Raffi, wondering what that restitution might mean.
“And I am not to talk,” said Elnor.
“Only when it’s necessary,” said Raffi. “But best if you observe.”
“Observe,” said Elnor. “Talk only when necessary. Make a liar face their truth. I understand.”
* * *
Later, Raffi and Rios met for drinks in his quarters. Cris cracked open a bottle of pisco. “You know, Raffi,” he said as he passed over her glass, “I thought you’d be more excited about getting back into the field.”
“I thought so too,” she said. “I guess… there’s a couple of things going on. My former colleagues—they weren’t so thrilled to see me.”
“They’re fools,” said Rios.
Raffi smiled at him. Always good to have someone unequivocally on your side. “Anyway, this mission feels… make or break in some way. If it all works out, the path ahead becomes a lot clearer.”
“You’d go back to Intelligence?” he said.
“I guess…” She sipped her drink. “Oh, this is good…”
“What’s the alternative?” Rios asked.
“Not drinking?”
“Raffi…”
“JL thought I might join him at the Academy,” said Raffi.
“Starfleet Academy?” said Rios. “You?”
“It’s not that preposterous an idea, surely?”
Rios sipped and thought about that for a while.
“Take your time, Cris,” said Raffi dryly.
“I think it might be good for you,” he said. “Something completely different from anything you’ve done before. No need to look back. Just look forward. You said there were a couple of things going on?”
“This planet we’re headed to,” said Raffi, “I didn’t have a great time there.”
“I picked that up,” said Rios. “There’s what the report says, and what actually happened. Is there anything to worry about, Raffi? Any unfinished business?”
“No,” she said. “I went out there, I tried to protect Cardassians, and I was able to do that. But it wasn’t a happy time. It was a strange place…” She shook herself. “It was a long time ago. I’m different now.” A new woman. Clean. “Have we heard any more from the Bajorans about our missing man?”
Rios shook his head. “Nothing new. The only trail leads to Ordeve.”
“Or he’s found a way off that we know nothing about. Or he was never there in the first place.”
“I’ll keep on top of this when the two of you are planetside. Watch your back.”
“Hey,” she said, “I’ve got Elnor for that.”
“Ah yes,” said Rios. “Everyone’s favorite Romulan. Are you sure you’re happy having him along?”
“What?”
“The kid. Are you okay with babysitting?”
Raffi shrugged. “JL insisted.”
“Yeah,” said Rios. “I’d kind of guessed that’s what happened.”
“He might come in useful.”
“We’ve got the crew mission briefing tomorrow morning,” said Rios. “I’m prepared to bet you a bottle of this fine pisco brandy that he blurts out the full story before it ends.”
“You’re on,” said Raffi. She won. Elnor sat, hands folded, completely silent, and observed. It was more than a little unnerving. Observe. Talk only when necessary. Make a liar face their truth. It was clear that he had taken this mission to heart. Cris, handing her the bottle later, said, “You might succeed.”
* * *
There was a great generational divide in Starfleet, between those who served in the Dominion War and those who did not. A green lieutenant at the time, Raffi had spent the war behind a desk at Romulan Affairs, preparing for what was to come; the inevitable scramble for territory and supremacy that followed the implosion of a great power. The collapse of the Cardassian Union was minor compared to what had happened to the Romulan Star Empire. The Cardassian worlds were still habitable. Still, the divide between those who had fought on the Cardassian line and those who had not was felt strongly by many in Starfleet. As the Stargazer approached the Cardassian border, it was plain that it was preying on the mind of the captain.
“For what it’s worth, Cris,” she said quietly into his ear, “I think it’s better that neither of us have the baggage of that war. Think about who we’ll be dealing with—Cardassians. Most of them won’t have that baggage either. We can put all that behind us. Make the relationships we want to make.”
“Unusually optimistic on your part,” he said. “In my experience, history has a way of striking back when you’re least expecting it.”
Raffi, thinking about her time on Ordeve, could only hope that would not turn out to be true.
They were met at the border by three Cardassian ships. The captain of the lead ship, the Corat Damar, greeted them with considerable (and, one hoped, sincere) courtesy on behalf of Castellan Eleta Kalis, and indicated that they would be escorted through Cardassian space. Only fair. Federation-Cardassian relations were cordial; the long history of conflicts was behind them. The Cardassian Union was standing on its own feet, open and friendly. But many Bajorans still alive had survived the Occupation, and for them this was experience, not history, so there remained that unspoken sense that full reconciliation was not yet entirely possible. Perhaps this mission would help with that. Help bring some healing. Raffi hoped so.
Ordeve, as they made their approach, looked as golden as ever. Cris, standing beside her on the bridge, said, “Seems to be flourishing.”
“Looks that way.”
“You going to be okay, Raffi?”
“Let’s find out,” she said. Permissions to enter orbit were granted, security codes exchanged, and at last Raffi and Elnor were able to transport directly into the complex surrounding the exarch’s residence in the capital, Merna.
The residence stood on one of the hills where the capital was built, giving a good view down into the small city. Raffi’s memories of Merna were of a place devastated by four days of Jem’Hadar bombardment. The only buildings standing were Starfleet prefabs, thrown up to provide shelter. She could see evidence of one or two of these, still in use, apparently, as offices. She imagined this was the case across the Cardassian Union. But Merna was thoroughly Cardassian: straight lines and walkways, with the sudden upward sweeps of elegant curves. The buildings were burnished copper, with the occasional splash of color—pink and blue and green—from the tinted windows. There was also—and this, surely, must be the main difference between temperate Ordeve and the punishing environment of Cardassia Prime—greenery, and even spring blossoms in the trees. The day was mild, perhaps a little too mild for Cardassian tastes. Raffi thought it was almost perfect.
