Author's Note: This story follows the events of my one-shot, Hero, which is actually the first chapter. If you haven't read Hero yet, you should go do that first. As for the disclaimer stuff; some of these characters are mine, and some aren't. Some of the DS9 crew will be making cameos, too. Hope you enjoy this story. It will be updating every Wednesday.
Restoration
1. Arrival
Virginia Fox fastened her luggage bag and looked around the room. It was bare once more, its décor muted tones of grey and blue. For the past ten days it had been her home, and it had become familiar to her. Now she was leaving, spreading her wings, stepping out of the shadow of her family, going it alone. So to speak.
"Ambassador Fox," said Captain Coleman over the intercom, "I just thought you'd like to know that we're approaching the planet. ETA five minutes."
"Thank you, Captain," she replied, "I'll be on the bridge shortly."
Before she left the room, she took a look at herself in the full-length mirror. What to wear had been a tricky decision. She didn't want to flout wealth, which might appear condescending, shallow and arrogant, but nor did she want to dress plainly, because that would not impress. In the end she had settled on a snug-fitting suit of dark blue, with black and purple slashes across the shirt. Her black boots had been polished until they shone, and she had tied back her long, wavy brown hair, taming it into some semblance of order.
Feeling ready to meet her future, she left the bedroom and stepped out into the corridor. A passing ensign—his gold uniform indicating he was a member of security or engineering—nodded at her in greeting, and she returned the gesture before setting out towards the bridge. The USS Copenhagen was a small oberth-class science vessel with a compliment of forty crew—it had been eighty, before the war—and Virginia, who only ever thought of herself as 'Gin', had learnt how to navigate its corridors after two days confined aboard at warp-speed.
As she stepped into the turbo-lift, she once again considered how fortunate she was to be given this chance. Usually, a junior ambassador, only recently graduated, would expect to be given an assignment on some small Federation planet for a few years, before progressing to something more important. But Virginia Fox had so impressed her lecturers and observers in the diplomatic corps that they had had no qualms about accepting her request. Admittedly, the death toll during the war had been terrible, affecting not only Starfleet soldiers but also civilians and Federation officials—amongst them, many high-ranking diplomats—and as a result, the pool of ambassadors to choose from was woefully low. Federation resources were stretched thin. Betazed was not the only Federation world to have been attacked by the Dominion, but it was the one which had been occupied the longest. There was a huge relief effort underway, which extended not only to Betazed, but to Benzar, Coridan and even to non-member worlds, such as Angosia and Bynaus.
When the lift stopped and admitted her onto the bridge, only one or two of the crew gave her any notice. The majority went about their tasks, ensuring smooth-running of the ship. She stopped beside the Captain's chair, and he gave her a quick smile. She had dined with him during her first evening aboard, as was befitting an ambassador, and found him to be a pleasant man, chatty and reliable. He'd already retired once, only to sign up for command again when the war with the Dominion broke out, and now he was happy to ferry around diplomats and cargo.
"You're just in time, Ambassador," he said. "Bates, put it on the viewer."
The helmsman complied, and the viewscreen sprang to life. There, right in the middle of it, was the planet, a swirling maelstrom of red, blue and grey, with dozens of gold and silver ships in orbit. Gin stepped forward – as if that would give her a better view and bring her closer to it.
"Not a patch on Earth, if you ask me," said Coleman. "You sure you don't want to change your mind, Ambassador? I hear things are pretty dire down there, and I'm not just talking about the heat."
"Quite sure, Captain," she replied. "I'm looking forward to the challenge."
The Captain shook his head, no doubt in disbelief. "Well, rather you than me. But do me a favour? Watch your back. We've got Starfleet personnel down on the planet, but they're mostly out in the sticks, trying to keep order and help rebuild infrastructure in some of the larger towns. For the most part, you'll be on your own in the capital. As much as we'd like to give you a full staff, we've nobody to spare right now."
"I understand, Captain. And I'm well prepared." Indeed, it felt as if she had been preparing for this for years, even though she'd only been given the assignment two weeks ago. She'd spent the past ten days researching everything she could get her hands on, including personnel reports, historical documents, technical specifications, literature and music.
"Alright. Well, we've had your transporter co-ordinates sent to us, and you're to be met by one of the potential future leaders, so I suppose you'll be in good hands. Please advise the Cardassians that we'll beam down our relief supplies before leaving orbit, and that the USS Ribble will be along in another two weeks with more supplies. "
"Thank you, Captain, for a swift and pleasant journey."
"The pleasure was all mine," he said, standing and shaking her hand. "Good luck, Ambassador. What you've signed up for is no easy task. Ensign Brill, please escort Ambassador Fox to the transporter room."
"Aye, sir," said the Andorian junior science officer.
In truth, she did not need an escort; having studied and memorised the layout of the ship, she knew where it was, but no doubt the Captain wanted to give her the best send-off his under-staffed ship could provide. The door to the transporter room swished open and Brill gestured for her to step on to the transporter pad. When she complied, the science officer energised the matter stream, and the last she saw of the Federation was Brill's blue face as he beamed her down to the planet's surface.
o - o - o - o - o
When Gin rematerialised, the first thing she realised was that her luggage was already waiting for her; the Copenhagen's crew must have beamed it down. After checking both large bags were present, she looked around the room she had appeared in; it was mostly empty, containing only a single desk with blank consoles, and two chairs. Other consoles, set into the wall, were likewise inoperable, and the air felt unnaturally hot.
The door opened, and a Cardassian man stepped inside, a smile fixed on his face. She recognised him immediately from the report Starfleet had compiled on him, but waited for him to make the first move. If he was the 'potential future leader' of the planet, then she would have to tread carefully with him.
"Ambassador Fox, I presume?" he asked.
"That's correct," she said, with a small bow of her head. "Thank you for meeting me."
"No problem at all. My name is Elim Garak." He spread out his arms, gesturing to the room. "Welcome to Cardassia. Oh, and please excuse the heat, one of the emergency generators is malfunctioning… even we Cardassians prefer the temperature a little cooler than this."
"No need to apologise, I know that these are difficult times for the Cardassian people. Is this to be my office?" she asked, glancing at the desk.
"Ah, no," said Garak. The smile on his face was quite at odd with his eyes, which were cold and blue, like two chips of ice set in a stone wall. "This building is the official residence of the Cardassian government… or at least, the government we're trying to form. The Embassy building we've assigned for you is but a short walk away. Can I help with your bags?"
"Thank you, I'd appreciate that." She picked up one of her bags, gave the other to him, and let him escort her from the room. Whatever building this was, it seemed to be largely intact. There were scorch-marks on some of the walls, which she surmised were from phaser-fire, but very little structural damage.
They walked in silence, the man, Garak, letting her look around freely as they walked the halls. Several times, tall Cardassian men, and only marginally shorter women, passed them in the corridor. Most of them offered a mere word of greeting to Garak, and completely ignored Gin. It made her feel small, unimportant, but she did her best to shake off those feelings. These people had better things to worry about than a Federation diplomat. She couldn't expect miracles – they would have to warm up to her in time.
"May I ask what your title is, Mr Garak?" she asked.
"Oh, it's just Garak," he smiled. "Plain, simple Garak. No titles."
"Really? I've read Starfleet's file on you... from what I've read, I'd say you're anything but plain and simple."
"Oh?" His voice was full of feigned surprise. "And what exactly did Starfleet have to say about me?"
"That you're the son of Enabran Tain. That you're a former operative of the Obsidian Order. That you were exiled by Gul Dukat following the occupation of Bajor, and you spent the next few years of your life on Deep Space Nine... or Terok Nor, if you prefer to call it that. I'm aware of every mission you've been on, everything you've done and said whilst working for the Federation... I'm sure that much was missing from the file, but I know enough to be aware that you appear as you wish to be seen, and never show all the cards in your hand."
"Well, I can't say that it sounds like much of a riveting read. And I'm sure much of it is pure speculation. I must say, though, that I'm not used to such blatant honesty from diplomats."
"I'm not here to bandy words, Mr Garak," she said firmly, "and I'm not here to play games. I have a job to do, and I intend to do it to the best of my abilities."
"I can assure you, Ambassador, that nobody is playing games on Cardassia right now."
He stopped at a door in front of him and pressed the entry button, stepping outside into the sunlight when it opened. Gin took a step to follow him, then stopped dead in her tracks.
"My god," she whispered, looking around at the ruins of the once-proud capital city. Only the buildings around this compound were unscathed; the rest had been reduced to rubble, and those that were still standing looked like they probably wouldn't be for very long. There was no smoke, the fires had long since been extinguished, but the sheer amount of devastation took her breath away. Further down the street, two members of the Cardassian military were guarding a huge water butt, whilst a long line of dusty men, women and children queued in front of it. There was defeat in their faces, and disbelief. Half of them looked as if their minds were elsewhere, in a dream of some better place and time.
"Oh, I don't think any gods had anything to do with this," Garak quipped. "Unless you truly believe that the Changelings are gods. Personally, I don't. Hell-bent on galactic domination, perhaps, but not gods. Anyway, shall we continue?"
She nodded mutely, unable to bring herself to speak, and he set off down the street. It had been over a month since the Dominion's withdrawal from Cardassia, and it seemed that nothing had been fixed. Water and power supplies appeared to be severely disrupted, and the few working replicators she saw had huge lines of people queuing outside them. The sight of them reminded her of something.
"Captain Coleman of the Copenhagen asked me to advise you that he's beaming down supplies, and that another ship will be along in two weeks with more. We brought power generators, food replicators, blankets, medical equipment—"
"I'm sure our people will be thoroughly checking the inventory," he interrupted, as if the supplies were of no consequence. "Whatever you have brought, we are deeply grateful for. But whatever you have brought... it will not be enough. The death toll when the Dominion left was about eight-hundred million. Now it's closer to nine. Disease and dehydration kill more every day, and very soon, starvation will add to the toll. Here in the capital city, we're fortunate. Our population—what's left of it—is close together. Getting aid to the people isn't too hard, and families and neighbourhoods work together to ensure nobody goes without. The same can't be said for every city, or every town, or even every village. The one saving grace is that our meagre farmlands were not destroyed during the Dominion's onslaught... but harvesting season is still months away, and food storage facilities across the planet have been destroyed."
Gin bit her lip, relying on the pain to keep back the tears that pricked at her eyes. Nothing could have prepared her for this. The scale of destruction was astronomical. "I'll contact the Federation, ask them to speed up their shipments of supplies," she promised him.
That cold smile returned to his lips. "I'm sure you'll do all that you can. Please, if you'll just step this way..."
He led her to a building several streets away, and gestured to the front of it. Like the others, it was made from a reddish stone with a grey and gold façade; common colours on Cardassia, it seemed.
"This was the home of a very influential member of the Cardassian Central Command, before the Dominion were invited in," Garak explained. "The Gul in question found it... prudent... to relocate, and the building, I'm informed, has been unoccupied ever since. This is to be the Federation embassy. You must excuse the poor state of the building, and the rather sparse furnishings inside. Although we were advised of your arrival here, we've had rather a lot to contend with."
"I can assure you, Mr Garak, I'm perfectly capable and willing to 'rough it' for as long as necessary. Of course, your first concern must be your own people. Rest assured, I will have no complaints."
"Wonderful. Though I think you'll find the situation is not as rough as you might fear. We've managed to acquire you a portable generator, and the building has a fully functioning replicator... you'll just need to hook it up whenever you need to use it. I'm afraid, however, that we haven't had time to program it with any Human food. You'll find it fully capable of producing many Cardassian foods, and also some Bajoran dishes. Well, shall we go inside?"
"Please," she nodded.
He climbed the shallow steps and opened the door, stepping inside. Any hopes she'd held that it would be cooler inside the building quickly fled her mind; it was just as warm in here as it was outside. She could already feel the perspiration forming on her skin. Was it going to be this miserably hot the whole year? Garak seemed to pick up on her thoughts.
"I'm afraid the shower facilities are inoperable at the moment. Until we re-establish the water supply to the city, it's being rationed. Drinking only. We estimate it will take another week for the water pipes to be repaired, but if it helps, there is a stream about four kilometres outside the city. Some of our people go there to bathe, and I'm sure they wouldn't object to you doing the same."
"I'll keep that in mind," she nodded. She had no doubt that some diplomats would recoil at the very idea of bathing in a stream, but Gin was under no illusions. If she had to bathe outside and eat Cardassian food, she would bathe outside and eat Cardassian food. It would be just like the time she had gone camping as a child, except now she wasn't alone in the wilderness with only her father and brother for company, and she didn't have to use a hole in the ground as a toilet. And whilst it was true that half a dozen Federation ships were in the system, patrolling for pirates and opportunistic looters, and she could easily beam aboard any of the ships and request to use their shower and replicator facilities, she was determined not to do that. It would be cheating. The Cardassians had no such luxuries, and if she wanted their respect, she had to show them that she was willing to suffer any hardship that they were suffering.
The room they entered was large and spacious, with two curved staircases sweeping up and back towards a balcony. It was also immediately obvious that they were not alone. Standing in the middle of the entrance hall was a second Cardassian man. Unlike Garak, he was wearing the metallic grey and black uniform of a military officer, and there was a peppering of dark grey in his sleek black hair. His posture was stiff, his arms held behind his back, and his feet planted wide apart. It was a confident, aggressive pose, and it immediately made Gin feel defensive.
"Why, Gul Amaro," Garak said, with his false smile, "what a surprise to see you here."
"A surprise?" Gul Amaro asked, the beginning of a condescending sneer tugging at his lips. His voice was deep and gruff, the polar opposite of Garak's smooth, silken voice. "Do you think you're the only one who has the right to speak to our new Federation overseer?"
"Quite the contrary, but as I recall, it was only yesterday you were complaining about having to... what was the term you used... pander to a soft Federation master?"
"Excuse me," Gin said, stepping forward between the men who had apparently forgotten her amidst their hostility. "I am not here as an overseer, nor as a master. I am the Federation ambassador to Cardassia. In the short term, it is my job to co-ordinate relief efforts and keep your people apprised of Federation activities within this sector. In the long term, I hope to establish diplomatic relations between your people and mine. If this arrangement is unsuitable and you wish me gone, we can always ask the Klingons to provide relief instead. Perhaps you would rather deal with Klingon dignitaries."
"At least Klingon dignitaries would be honest about their intentions to oppress us," Amaro growled. He turned his brown eyes to Gin, looking her over and apparently finding her wanting. The condescending sneer on his face only grew. "I know the real reason why you're here. You want to change us. Corrupt our society. Make us more like the Federation. You want us to replace Bajor as your newest pet project."
"I have no such intentions. And neither, I'm sure, does the Federation. We only accept member worlds who want to join us. It takes years for a single world to be assessed and found suitable. An empire would take decades. Far longer than I suspect I'll ever live. As for 'corrupting' your society..." she gave him her best unimpressed look, "I think you're doing a good enough job of that yourselves, without any help from an outside source."
"Meaning what?" he asked angrily, narrowing his eyes.
She sighed. This was not going as well as she had hoped. She wanted to start off on the right foot, and this was definitely not the right foot.
"Meaning that your former leaders have made some bad decisions, and now your people are paying for them."
"And how gracious of the Federation to come and pick up the pieces."
"Perhaps, Ambassador," said Garak, "it would be best if we left you to unpack and get settled in your new home. I'm sure it has been a long trip for you."
"A long trip in a comfortable starship, with as much food, water and shelter as you required," Gul Amaro added.
"Thank you, Mr Garak," she said, grateful that one Cardassian, at least, was keeping up the pleasantries. Even if it was just a pretence.
Gul Amaro stormed out of the building without another word, and Garak deposited her second bag on the floor.
"Why don't I come back tomorrow, and see how you're getting on?" he asked.
"Thank you, I would appreciate that."
"In the mean-time, I would recommend that you not go wandering outside alone. Especially when it gets dark."
"Is the situation here that bad? Are unarmed people not safe on the streets?"
"These are troubling times," he said, though he didn't sound at all troubled by it himself. "I would hate for anything... untoward... to happen to the Federation's first Ambassador to Cardassia. Until tomorrow, then."
Garak left, and Gin took a deep breath, looking around at the dusty entrance hall. There was an air of sadness about the building, of emptiness and loneliness, and she wondered if she might be imagining it. Shaking her head, she bent down to pick up her bag, and set off up the stairs. Whatever this place had been in the past, it was now her home, and a small area of Federation territory within Cardassian space. It was her job to make sure the building looked and felt like it was part of the Federation. And perhaps, in time, the Cardassians would come to view her not as their enemy, as yet another oppressor, but as somebody who wanted to help them establish peace and prosperity. Maybe even a friend.
o - o - o - o - o
Morning on Cardassia Prime turned out to be just like afternoon on Cardassia Prime; hot, humid, and full of people who just didn't know what to do. From her vantage point at the balcony window, Gin had an excellent view of the street outside, but sadly, the view was not a pleasant one. Vacant-eyed men and women wandered to and fro, trying to make themselves useful by clearing rubble away from buildings. A brick here, a few shards of broken glass there... piles were forming, slowly, but more often than not, the people on the street paid more attention to the shattered remnants of their personal items than they did to rebuilding their homes. Photographs in frames were recovered and cried over. Children found lost toys and tried to play with them, to escape the despair that was slowly overcoming the adults.
It was not something Gin had been expecting. The much-vaunted Cardassian pride and strength seemed to be gone, replaced by sadness and loss, and she was beginning to understand why. The Cardassians had been dealt defeat after defeat. First they'd been driven from Bajor by Bajoran freedom fighters, forced to abandon the planet before they had finished stripping it of its rich resources. Then the Klingons had invaded their space, attacking outlying colonies and annexing Cardassian worlds. As if that wasn't bad enough, there had been continued fighting with the Maquis in the demilitarised zone, and more recently, the Cardassian people had been living under Dominion rule. Granted, Dominion rule hadn't been too harsh on the civilians... not until they had risen up in protest, at least. And to top off the rain of bitter blows, their leader, their liberator, had been killed in an attack on the Dominion headquarters.
Cardassians had always valued order and regulations, but now there was nobody to tell them what to do. Their military was in ruins, their intelligence branch had been devastated years ago, along with the Romulan Tal'Shiar, and their former civilian government, a combination of the Detapa Council and the Cardassian Dissident Movement, had been destroyed when Gul Dukat had signed the treaty making Cardassia a part of the Dominion.
It was taking too long for a new government to form. Gin knew that there could be only one of two possibilities; either a council would form, a collection of well-respected or powerful members of Cardassian society who could work together to rebuild the Union. If this was to be the case, then it was likely going to be a long, drawn-out affair. From what little she had already gathered, there were already power struggles happening inside the capital. The military personnel felt it was their natural right to rule, and restore order. The civilians still aware enough to realise what was happening were resisting military rule. They remembered only too well what had happened the last time the military was in power, and they didn't want a repeat of that.
The other alternative was that a leader would rise to take charge, but this option was looking increasingly unlikely as time went on. The time for a leader to step forward and take charge would have been immediately after the withdrawal of the Dominion. At that point, a man or woman with enough charisma could have rallied the people under a single banner. Sadly, it had not happened, and Gin suspected there wasn't such a person left on Cardassia. Though she knew from reading Starfleet reports that Garak was making a spirited attempt at it, he didn't have enough persuasion with the people. He had been gone for years, living with Bajorans and the Federation. Though the people of Cardassia might respect him for his part in the rebellion, the fact that he had been gone for too long, coupled with the fact that he was a former member of the Obsidian Order, made them less inclined to fully trust him. Which was a shame, because she suspected he'd make a rather good leader.
"Some might say we deserve all of this."
She didn't jump at the sound of Garak's voice, but her heart did start beating faster. Damned man, sneaking up on her inside her own embassy! When he joined her at the window, she turned her head to look at him, and was surprised to see the smile, for once, absent from his face.
"Nobody deserves this," she said, returning her gaze to the street outside, where two dusty children, their sleeves torn and tattered, were playing on a pile of rubble.
"Maybe you should ask the Bajorans."
"I don't care about Bajoran opinion," she said firmly. "I'm not the Federation ambassador to Bajor. And, quite frankly, I have better things to do than sit in judgement over your people and debate whether or not you deserve what has happened. It is time to look to the future, not to the past." She turned to face him. "Your people need leaders. What are you doing about it?"
"Trying to form a government," he said simply. "Easier said than done, however. My people are not naturally inclined to form a consensus and amicably come to agreements. Open discussion and debate about order go against the very nature of our society."
"Did you ever think that perhaps it's time for your society to change?"
"More than once," he said, and the disturbing smile returned to his face. "That too, however, is easier said than done. You've already met Gul Amaro, and he's just one of the opponents of forming a multilateral government."
"It's a shame Legate Damar was killed during the rebellion," she mused. "He had the respect of the people, and a military command. He might have been able to negotiate the creation of an inclusive government."
"A shame indeed. I had such high hopes for him. We must simply continue without him."
"Is there nobody else? Nobody who has enough power and influence to unite your people?" she asked, hoping against hope that there might still be a chance for a swift resolution.
"I'm afraid not. The situation is quite dire. Many of our former government officials are now dead. Order has been kept in some of our towns and cities, but in others, chaos is rampant. There is looting and violence which is spilling out into the surrounding countryside. Simply put, there just isn't enough of anything to go around. Restoring water and power supplies to the capital won't help the rest of the population, and although your people are doing an admirable job of providing aid, the sad fact of the matter is, they have their own concerns to tend to first."
Gin sighed. She'd always known that her task here would involve an uphill struggle, but she hadn't realised just how difficult it would be. Naïvely, she'd imagined that the Cardassians would be glad of her presence. That it would reassure them the Federation was helping. That they would even be grateful to her, for coming here to oversee the aid relief personally. Her former daydreams now left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Tell me something," said Garak. "Who did you annoy to be given Cardassia as a diplomatic assignment?"
"Nobody," she said, offering a weak smile. "I requested to be sent here."
He gave her a look that suggested she was insane. "Why?"
How could she answer that? Any reply that she gave would sound arrogant. She wanted a challenge. She wanted to take part in the restoration of an empire. She wanted to get as far away from Earth, and her own problems, as was possible. She wanted to prove to herself and her family that she could survive on her own. She wanted somebody to be grateful to her. Her reasons were weak, foolish, childish. No wonder Gul Amaro hated her; he'd seen right through her the moment he laid eyes on her. As far as he was concerned, his people were nothing but a stepping stone to her. A way for her to prove she could succeed. Evidence of her diplomatic savvy. She felt disgusted with herself. She didn't deserve to be here. She was a child, playing at being an adult. The Cardassian people deserved more than that. The Federation deserved more than that.
What Garak thought of her silence, she did not know, but he continued. "It must irk you terribly, being here."
"How so?" she asked, confused.
"Because Humans see an injustice, and it fills them with righteous fury. They see something broken, and desperately want to fix it. They see something wrong, and immediately want to right it. They can't tolerate what is not whole and perfect, like the Federation. What you don't understand, is that there is no place for the Federation here."
"I don't believe that. Perhaps, in the long term, the Federation and the Cardassian Union will never be allies, or even friends. But right here, right now, you need us. How many more would die if we left? Your ships are already spread thin; without our fleet, aid would never reach your planet. What you call righteous fury and intolerance, I call compassion. And maybe you think it's rather arrogant of me to say, but you need me here to co-ordinate the relief efforts. Why not let me worry about the Federation? You need to think more about forming a working government, before your civilisation descends into anarchy."
He watched her appraisingly for a moment, and then smiled.
"Well, I guess that's me told. But mark my words, you won't convince Gul Amaro, and most of the other potential council members, that you are here to help, as easily as you have convinced me. They will continue to look for your hidden motives."
"They will find none," she said calmly, pushing away her anger. She did not like being tested... even if she had passed the test. "Now, yesterday evening I managed to get the communications console working and made contact with some of the relief workers on the planet's surface, as well as the USS Cheyenne, in orbit. There are several things I need to report to whatever's passing itself off as a government here. When would be the best time for me to meet with you and your colleagues?"
"I'll make an appointment for you," he offered.
"Good." If she was going to have to fight people at every turn, at least she would know whom she was fighting. And the sooner she knew who was really pulling the strings around here, the sooner she could report back to the Federation Council.