PROLOGUE

The war was finally over.

Captain David Blakeney tried to take in the enormity of this fact.

The United Federation of Planets had been at war with the Cardassians for over twenty years. It had been a protracted conflict, and even though there was not always constant fighting, the Cardassian threat was always there, lurking in the background.

In fact, Captain Blakeney had not known a time during his Starfleet career when they had not been at war with Cardassia; much of his career had been shaped by the war and its various skirmishes.

In the last decade, the war had reached a stalemate, with neither side gaining advantage in firepower or territory, and border-skirmishes had become commonplace. The issues that had caused much of the fighting were left unresolved.

But now, that was all ending. The United Federation of Planets and the Cardassian Union had finally ratified a peace treaty; a treaty that had taken almost four long years before it had been agreed upon by both sides.

This was indeed a momentous moment.

Captain Blakeney glanced around the room, and noted the looks of relief and joy on the faces of the half a dozen other Starfleet captains who were sat in the starbase briefing room with him.

Starbase 310 was located on the surface of a barely hospitable planet near the Cardassian border. Looking out through the floor to ceiling windows of the briefing room, Blakeney could see the barren landscape of the alien world beyond. As far as the eye could see were vast stretches of dirt ridden deserts, with the occasional piece of dead foliage protruding through the soil. Swirls of dust danced along the mounds as the winds whipped up in various directions.

Captain Blakeney returned his attention to the matter at hand. As he turned his head from the windows, he caught a glance of his reflection in the polished surface of the conference table. His long face was handsome, with a distinguished nose, which had once been likened to something from an ancient Roman bust. He had turned forty this year and his mousy brown hair was beginning to prematurely grey – a family trait, he mused.

Stood at the front of the briefing room was Vice Admiral Alynna Nechayev, who had just broken the news of the finalised peace treaty to the assembled captains. Nechayev, with her quaff of blonde hair, was short in stature, but her commanding presence filled the room.

Nechayev pointed at a map that was being displayed on the wall mounted viewer. The map showed a curving line dissecting the space between Federation and Cardassian territories, with a buffer zone between the two.

"These are the new official boundaries," she stated. "As you can see, a Demilitarised Zone has been created along the border. No side will be permitted to place military outposts, conduct fleet exercises or station warships within the demilitarised area."

Blakeney scrutinised the map. Given the militaristic tendencies of the Cardassians, this buffer seemed like a good idea. He just hoped that it wouldn't turn into such a taboo area as the Romulan Neutral Zone had.

"Admiral," one of the captains spoke up. He was an intelligent looking officer and an old friend of Blakeney's.

"Captain Cox?" Nechayev raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Captain Cox continued, "I note from this proposed map that some Federation colonies are going to fall into Cardassian territory, and that certain Cardassian colonies will be in Federation space."

Blakeney too had noticed this.

Nechayev explained, "This agreement is far from perfect; neither side got everything they wanted, but every side got something."

Such was the price of a compromised peace, thought Blakeney.

"Those colonists finding themselves on the wrong side of the border will have to be moved," Nechayev stated.

"The colonists may not be too happy about that," observed a female captain who was sat opposite Blakeney.

Blakeney leant forward in his chair and said, "It seems to me to be a reasonable price to pay for peace."

"Exactly, Captain," agreed Nechayev. "It may not be easy, but it is necessary."

"What if the colonists refuse to be evacuated?" asked another of the captains; a male Bolian.

"Then your orders are to remove them by whatever means are necessary," replied Nechayev.

There was a brief silence as Nechayev waited for any more objections. There were none; the assembled captains still appeared to be digesting the news before working out what to make of it.

Nechayev continued, "The Enterprise is currently undertaking the first of these relocation assignments on Dorvan V. The rest of you will receive your assignment destinations from Commander Wrightwell as you leave. Dismissed."

As they filed out of the briefing room, Captain Cox conferred with Blakeney.

"I don't like this," he admitted. "Surely there must have been a better solution."

Blakeney shook his head. "This treaty has taken nearly four years to finalise. I imagine that all possible compromises were discussed."

"But those colonists have been living on those planets for years. Decades, some of them," Cox went on. "Now we're asking them to move because of a decision made by a bunch of bureaucrats!"

"Peace comes at a price, Alex," Blakeney replied. "If an end to the war means that a few colonists have to relocate, then so be it."

Cox frowned.

Realising that he may have been a little glib, Blakeney went on, "Those planets have been at risk of invasion by the Cardassians since the colonists first moved there. Surely they will see that moving to a new home, one that's not under constant threat, will be more beneficial to the them in the long run."
"I hope so," sighed Cox, not convinced.

"The quadrant is finally officially at peace," smiled Blakeney. "Trust me, my friend, things are looking up!"