Introduction: I humbly present my first published short story. It's set a few months after the Dominion War, on a Cardassian colony. It's not meant to be a rivetting action sequence or anythng like that, just a gentle account of the effects of war on normal people, mainly a conversation piece. The twist being that the normal people are from the "other side" – not the "good guys".

Star Trek is property of Paramount etc. and I am making no money from this. Your opinions and comments are very welcome, but please, go easy… it's my first story.

After the storm

She was definitely in an odd mood, Stephen decided as they walked through the scarred and crumbling cluster of buildings that passed for a residential zone, that eerily still night. She wasn't talking to him, for one thing, and she scowled at every Federation aid worker she saw. Stephen was one of these aid workers, sent to this backwater Cardassian colony to help the locals rebuild after the devastation of the Dominion war. Xora IV was a far cry from Earth's England, but that hadn't stopped him from enlisting to travel thousands of light-years to this planet. The war was over, old differences could be put aside in order to repair what had been lost in the fighting.

So why wouldn't Nara talk to him? He glanced sidelong at her. The day he had arrived, he had been assigned to help her repair the wreckage of her old home. They had quickly struck up a friendship and become almost inseparable. Her tired but determined eyes lit up at his jokes, they shared dinner every day (even though it was rarely enough to fill the stomach) and made strong progress in their work: Nara's house was almost habitable now.

"Is something wrong?" Stephen asked gently.

Her irritated shoulder shrug indicated that something certainly was. As they entered the cool darkness of the kitchen in Nara's home a dim light sprang lazily to life, flickering occasionally. Nara strode purposefully to an empty wall and took something out of the bag she carried. It was a portrait of a young Cardassian boy, with the same blue-green eyes and resolute look as Nara, and she attached it to the wall with a soft click. She sat down, staring at the portrait forlornly.

"Is he a relative of yours?" Stephen said, to break the silence.

Nara snorted, still unusually morose, and spoke for the first time in an hour: "He… was… a relative, yes. My son. Lirim."

Stephen didn't even know she had had a son. With some dread, he asked: "What happened to him, Nara?"

"Died during the Allied attack on this town. The one that put it in the ruins you see now." She grunted again, without humour. "Some Romulan spy told the local Federation admiral that this place held a secret weapons facility, hidden away beneath the town. Can't take chances in war, can you?"

Her bitter tone was new to Stephen, and he felt a little uncertain. Of course, he had been briefed before coming to Xora IV about what had happened here, in the last days of the war. In order to deal with a threat to Allied security in the sector, a torpedo fitted with explosives had been fired near the main settlement on the colony. It had been rather more explosive than anticipated.

"Funny thing was," Nara went on after a while, "there was no facility. But there were plenty of civilians, just waiting to be killed. 'Collateral damage', isn't that the term?"

"Yes, Nara, I know, and Starfleet regrets that. Accidents happen… that's why we're here now, assisting the people of Xora IV with reconstruction."

He knew immediately that it had been the wrong thing to say. She swung around to stare him in the face, eyes flashing dangerously. "Guilty conscience, eh? The noble Federation generously offers to help us dig the graves for the children and old women who were too slow to get to the shelters when the firestorm hit!"

"Well, it wasn't deliberate, and we're helping you in every way that we can!" Stephen shot back, a little offended at her ingratitude.

Nara slumped back in her chair, still scowling. Complete darkness fell momentarily as the lights went off; when they returned, Stephen could see she was trying hard not to cry – either that, or jump out of the chair and punch him, perhaps.

"It was war," he said, in a soothing tone. "Terrible things happen during war. Many Federation civilians died too, Nara…"

She looked more sad than angry, now. "Do you think we wanted that? Not the soldiers, I mean, just the ordinary people like me. It had nothing to do with us. You're always talking about the rights of sentient beings, in the Federation. Why did you put them aside the night Lirim was killed?"

Stephen had no answer for that. He had nothing to do about what had happened here. But, he reflected with a pang of shame as silence returned to the spartan kitchen, he could at least feel bad about it, and try to see through Nara's eyes… The war with the Dominion and Cardassia had been a righteous one, for it saved the Federation and its allies from tyranny, but had the need to overcome the Enemy justified what had occurred that terrible day on Xora IV?

All he could say was simply, "I'm sorry, Nara." He reached out to hold her hand. She didn't stop him. She continued to gaze at the portrait of her son, with his wide open eyes which looked off into the distance, eyes that in reality would never open again.

"I know you are, Stephen," Nara replied with a sigh, drained of spirit. She did not have to add, but is anyone else? How can they feel sorrow for what happened, if they can't see with my eyes?