To Boldly Go... (a Starfleet quest)

A/N said:

*Kicks open the Thread Door* I'M BACK. GET IN READERS. WE'RE GOING TO BAJOR. WHY? BECAUSE I FELT MUSED TO IT. NOW GET IN THE OMAKE

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Xenological Survey



25862.8, Lashurit township, Tozhat Province, Bajor

Dr. Zisfir Pa'Dur moves her way through the crowd of smiling and laughing Bajorans with a half smile on her own, grey, reptilian, face.

The Cardassian woman holds a reinforced digital tablet out in front of her body, like the prow on a seagoing vessel as she steers her way through the crowd, her wake rapidly erased by the teeming mass of Bajorans as they push forwards themselves along their own courses.

Zisfir stops as she hits the edge of the sea of milling Bajorans, her feet crunching in the gravel and dirt of the town's main road, as she looks back and forth along the edges of the crowd.

"Crowd appears to be segregated into sections based on home district instead of Caste." the Cardassian says into the mic of a ruggedized headset that is firmly fastened around her head, "The same pattern as recorded in many of the other communities of Tozhat Province. Remnant of differing forms of Prophet worship in the distant past perhaps?" She smiles forgiveness at a Bajoran child that has accidentally run into her.

"No worries," she mouths in Bajoran at the child's parent as he quickly backs himself and his child away; his head bowed in apology.

Very polite people these Bajorans, thinks the Cardassian woman to herself as she gently steps out onto the road. There's no worry of her getting in the way of anything, the procession isn't for a little while yet, she should be fine cutting down the road to avoid the crowds.

It actually makes her observations of the Bajoran locals easier too, "Caste and Home District are very tightly linked however. Even in a region that didn't have Old Government laws preventing mixed communities." she tilts her head as she watches a Bajoran family unit crowded around a food vendor, "Then again, local Bajorans have Patrilocal practices, and without out-Caste marriage all families of similar caste composition will be just moving around the same limited districts set in times when community composition was governed by religious law."

A shift in the wind makes the Cardassian woman suddenly feel a brief moment of jealousy and resentment towards the Bajoran locals; all their food smells so good good but it gives her stomach fits something fierce.

The mic captures Zisfir muttering to herself as she digs through the bags draped over her shoulders and bouncing against her hips for a snack.

With a brief mummer of triumph the Cardassian stuffs the shiny plastic wrapping from a ration bar back into her pocket as she tries and fails to ignore the mouthwateringly delicious smells of Bajoran street food wafting into the road to taunt her.

A minute later Zisfir cuts back into the crowd, a processed fruit bar in her mouth, when her path reaches a modern building built in Cardassian style from local materials.

Using her PADD as wedge again she easily parts the crowd in front of her, Bajoran faces with D'jarra earrings of all sorts flashing by her, "Of course, modern, Cardassian inspired Law in no way prohibits mixed communities. Though many Bajorans are slow to embrace new practices"

Then Zisfir reaches a point where the sea of Bajorans ends; the waves of mammalian bodies breaking against a solid wall of reptilian bodies in grey armour. Quickly swallowing the last of her pressed fruit bar she comes to stop in front of a lean faced Glinn, "Zisfir Pa'Dur, Cardassian Science Directorate" she says as she fumbles in her bags for her State Issued ID and Science Directorate pass.

Glinn Zarov holds up a hand to halt Zisfir's search, "Go on. Dal Korek's got some chairs set up on top of the building if you want to watch from up there." he leans in conspiratorially and continues in a stage whisper, "and if you hurry... You might, jussst, be able to get the last of the Larish Pie."

The Glinn doesn't bother to smother his laughter as Zisfir all but launches herself into the Cardassian building.

Not even a minute later Zisfir Pa'Dur is up on the roof of said building and doesn't even bother with the fold out chairs as she plops herself down on the edge of the Cardassian building, legs kicking against the facade, as she drowns out the smell of Bajoran food with the taste of one of her own Cardassian favorites.

"Mmhhmmhh!" says Zisfir by way of greeting as someone steps up beside her, his shadow briefly falling over her face, before he shifts position to her other side..

"Ms Pa'Dur." says Dal Korek, "Out on one of your "Surveys" again were we?"

"Aammhhmhhmm!" she eats affirmatively at the sharp faced man with a close cropped military haircut and keen grey eyes.

"I assume that you've given more thought to my offer of a proper security escort?" says the Commanding Officer of the local Cardassian outpost, 'You know as well as I that fanatics live out in these rural areas"

"Mhhh-I" Zisfir heavily swallows the last of her food, "That's no way for a Xenologist to go about. It attracts too much suspicion. No one wants to talk to you!"

"No one there to protect you if some Bajoran fanatic decides to "register his diplomatic complaints" Ms. Pa'Dur."

Zisfir rolls her eyes. Men. Always like this.

"I don't tell you how to perform geographical surveys of the planetary landscape, and you shouldn't tell me how to perform surveys of the sophont landscape." She shuffles her bags around to sit more comfortably, "I do remember you saying that your command area was the safest in the Province," she looks up at the Military Officer, "That wasn't just vanity speaking was it?"

"I have the metrics!" says the Dal quickly and hotly, "But we didn't earn those safety ratings by being careless."

"And I am not careless." Zisfir says carefully, "The Cardassian Science Directorate doesn't give out Doctorates to people that don't know how to do their jobs." Zisfir's Doctorate of Xenology may be brand new, the certification younger than her ticket to Bajor, but it was one fairly earned.

"That may be Ms. Pa'Dur-" Korek cuts himself off when he hears the distant sound of heavy drums and notices the crowd of Bajorans suddenly going silent.

Zisfir Pa'Dur smiles in anticipation as she leans forwards again.

Dal Korek doesn't move, just folds his arms, holding his place at the edge of the two story building.

"Ahh…. here they come!" Zisfir is speaking into her headset again, "Procession is, as is customary on Bajor, religious in nature." she sees the leading edge of Bajorans in masks come around the corner of the road and into the center of town, "In Tozhat Province, the Days of White Sky are capped with a Procession of monks and other members of the religious castes. The locals believe that the Festival is key to preserving good growing weather during the summer months and precedes a good harvest"

"They can believe that. It doesn't make it true," says Korek with a scoff and a dismissive wave of his fingers.

Zisfir holds a hand over her mic, "Honestly, I doubt most of the Bajorans aaactuallllly believe that. That the Festival makes sure that the weather stays good. I mean," she shrugs, "It's mostly an excuse to get together to watch a parade and get drunk. Most festivals everywhere are."

"Wasteful."

Zisfir gives the Dal a look that asks him if he is serious, her eyes wide in not quite mock disbelief, "Really? I remember a great big drunken thing happening before I left Cardassia Prime."

"That's different" Korek narrows his eyes, "Celebrations of civic strength and the vast expansion of industrial capability are entirely different matter than… mere primitive superstitions!"

"It's still an excuse to get together and party," says Zisfir as she holds out a holocamera to record the parading Bajorans, "In the end the practical upshot is promoting social unity and adherence to shared customs and values."

The military Cardassian is quiet for a handful of long minutes as Zisfir fills up her drive space with observations of the Bajoran festivities.

"Hmm, presence of masks in this section of the parade actually mirrors similar practices by Oralians. The carving of the Priest caste masks here especially remind me of examples of early Oralian styles I've seen in Science Directorate archives."

"Then why do we allow this?" says Dal Korek suddenly.

"Pardon?" Zisfir reaches up to cover her mic again.

"If this sort of…" he waves his hand towards "...thing promotes superstitious and primitive values -- why did we allow it to proceed?"

Zisfir frowns, "Because… They want to?"

"Cardassia is on Bajor to end an era of superstition and ignorance. To drag the caste-ridden, politically calcified, and culturally congealed society into the future." Korek glares at the masked Bajoran priests in the streets below.

"Well, we've done a lot. All the old Theocratic laws are gone. The legal enforcement of caste purity is gone and Legate Dukat in particular has gone out of her way to show the Bajorans that caste is meaningless next to merit." Zisfir shrugs as she zooms her camera in a slowly marching man carefully carrying a large bowl of water, "I suppose it'll just take time for our changes to sink in."

"Really? Can we allow that? Can we allow these reservoirs of…" the man searches for the right words, "To allow these abscesses of infection to remain behind and kill the patient after we have worked so hard to save them?" He practically spits, "My security metrics are the highest in Tozhat but my education levels are the lowest. Those scum down there," he pulls an angry arm out its place and points it at the parade below, "Tell their people that a modern education is apostasy. That all they need to know is to show up to their temples every week and live the same life as every single one of their ancestors have lived"

Korek resists the urge to pace angrily near the edge of the roof, "My education levels are down! Families and children that want to learn are shamed out of class." He near snarls, "Last night we arrested superstitionists that beat a farmer boy that came to a trades class. He isn't supposed to learn woodworking!" his lip raises in disgust, "Woodworking!"

"These people are Children, Ms Pa'Dur" Korek says after another long moment.

"Doctor Pa'Dur." Says Zisfir, tiring of the man' disrespect.

"My apologies, Dr. Pa'Dur." He sighs, "These people have lived a self enforced childhood. They've never had the lack of resources or foreign invader to force them to grow up and look after their own interests."

"Some Bajorans had the presence of mind to ask for our help," points out Zisfir, reasonably, "That's not nothing"

"But it's not enough. You don't see the memos, the constant pressure from that government for us to back off. We're here to reach out a hand help these people to get to their feet and step into the future!" Now the Dal does start pacing angrily, "These farmers have thousands and thousands of tiny, inefficient, family plots that barely produce enough. We could increase production by an order of magnitude overnight. Overnight!" Korek waves an arm in anger, "My engineering company could triple their efficiency before the next harvest but the Bajoran government refuses to reorganize the land. Modern, industrial techniques would feed not just Bajor but all of Cardassia in trade!"

Zisfir has now turned her mic off, "These things will take time Dal Korek. Patience. Patience."

The Dal ignores her, having already worked himself up into a righteous fury, "They barely mine either! Those mountains are full of everything they need to build a modern, advanced, fleet. All from one planet. But they drag their feet. Refuse to open up mining positions to non-mining castes. They even fight Cardassian assistance. These roads should be paved! The schools should be full, the medical clinics used, the farms productive!"

Korek angrily turns on Zisfir, "You counsel patience? How many starve on Cardassia while these people refuse to pull their weight? Because they wish to wallow in denial of science and the paths of progress?"

Korek pauses to stare down at the teeming Bajorans, "I've said it. I've said that these people are children. And do you know how to raise children Dr Pa'Dur?"

"I'd like to imagine that I've picked that skill up somewhere." Says the Xenopologist, leaning slightly away from the military officer's intensity.

"Then you know that children need discipline. A parent cannot let a child go without education, cannot let their children become lazy." Korek paces quickly, his voice increasingly strident, finger stabbing the air in time to his points as he walks, "We cannot let children spend all their time with imaginary friends. Children must grow up and learn how the world works. And that is what Cardassia is here to do"

"Are the Bajorans really children to you Dal?"

"No. No. Of course not." Korek calms himself with a violent headshake "But the analogy is a fitting one where religion is involved."

Korek paces himself to a stop, "I won't let them do it next year." He says with a tone approaching wonder.

"Pardon. Do what?" Zisfir Pa'Dur asks, blinking at the sudden non-sequitur.

"This… what did you call it? This Days of Sky thing."

"The Days of White Sky." Says the Xenologist, narrowing her eyes.

"You said it yourself. Festivals like this are ways to reinforce values. But they are also excuses to get together for a party."

Pa'Dur pushes herself back from the edge of the roof, pulling her legs back atop the building, "I wouldn't bring that thesis before the Science Directorate… but I suppose you would put it that way."

"I can find a dozen secular reasons to have a parade. Celebrate local Bajoran military volunteers. Whatever. Just don't encourage these primitive delusions that the Bajorans have of gods and prayers."

Korek stands at the edge of his command center's roof as he watches the rear of the procession leave the main road, "We are here to help Bajor. And sometimes Dr Pa'Dur. Sometimes that means acting for the greater good. No matter how painful it is for a few Bajorans."