‘Ambassador Hale was thoughtful with her dining selections,’ mused Kaled as he and T’Falith emerged from the turbolift onto the Sirius’s promenade. Stretching across two decks at the edge of the chevron section, it was one of the largest and most open spaces aboard the ship, deliberately designed to give the feel of a starbase. For a vessel that could spend months or even years in deep space, potentially supporting other ships, Starfleet had spared no effort to minimise the risk of cabin fever.

‘She is a seasoned and capable diplomat, and I am sure sincerely wished to place you all at ease,’ said T’Falith.

‘At ease.’ Kaled’s scoff was gentle. ‘As if there’s anything to be at ease about out here.’ His eyes swept the promenade, with its many fronts for different recreational spaces; mostly lounges and bars and cafés. ‘Is there anywhere… quieter?’

At this time of the evening there were plenty of unoccupied lounges, and T’Falith directed them to the nearest. From here, they could settle into comfortable chairs before a tall window, the shimmering sphere of the ocean world beneath them. From here, it was still and silent, the aperture nowhere in sight, as if they were on an ordinary exploration mission and not in the depths of the Delta Quadrant.

‘I understand the use of such large sections aboard,’ said Kaled with a hint of relief as he sat down, a mug of replicated red leaf tea in hand. ‘For such a large crew, a variety of offerings for recreation and leisure must be essential to keep social groups engaged or rotating.’

T’Falith tilted her head. ‘I see you read my last recommendation.’ While she respected his intellect, he was quoting almost directly from Starship Sociology and Community Ecology.

‘Of course. You thought I might not?’

‘I had thought you might be busy. It has been some time since we last spoke. I understand now you have your new command. It was… unexpected to see you on a starship’s bridge.’

‘It was unexpected to see you on this ship,’ Kaled countered lightly. ‘But matters are changing on Cardassia. I’m sure you’ve read terrible analysis by self-important Federation pundits saying there’s better cooperation now between the Detapa Council and Central Command.’

‘You had expected Central Command would keep you at the periphery long-term.’

‘It seems they don’t have a choice.’ Kaled winced. ‘Truthfully, your pundits would be wrong. There are deeper cracks between the two than in years.’

‘I had thought the renewed cooperation was why your fleet was expanded and new ships, like your Edorasc, were built.’

‘And now, we have a security disaster on our front door in the DMZ. Central Command would go in with the sword. Starfleet won’t let them. The Detapa Council don’t want to let them. But if something doesn’t change soon…’ Kaled sipped his tea. ‘I was brought in as a moderate. So, of course, I’ve been sent to the far side of the galaxy at the first opportunity.’

T’Falith watched him. ‘To study the Underspace.’

He met her gaze. Miniscule adjustments flickered across his expression, and she could almost see him weighing and measuring all possible words before he said, ‘Yes. To study this calamity.’

‘Calamity?’

‘What happens if the New Maquis find an Underspace aperture in the DMZ that leads them directly behind the Cardassian border? Or if Toral’s new Klingon Empire finds a route behind Federation lines?’ Kaled sounded tense, but there was an exhaustion to his eyes. ‘Starfleet speaks of opportunity, I’ve no doubt. But it’s hard to see past the tremendous risk.’

‘We understand the risk,’ said T’Falith. ‘We are out here seeking ships that have gone missing, which have perhaps been destroyed, because of the Underspace. I assure you that there is no naive optimism surrounding Starfleet’s mission here. Our goals do not have to be misaligned.’

‘Our goals aren’t relevant to each other.’

‘We are both studying the Underspace. We are both here because of the Underspace.’

‘If I had a lead on your missing ship, I would tell you.’ He sat up, sobering. ‘You believe that, surely.’

‘I do.’ T’Falith paused. ‘You are sure we cannot help you?’

Kaled watched her, pale eyes scraping across her face. ‘Rourke’s asked you to dig into my mission,’ he surmised.

‘I am not sure what brings you to that conclusion.’

‘Normally, you wouldn’t offer. You’d wait for me to ask. You knew better than to crowd me.’

T’Falith’s gaze dropped before she could steel herself. ‘I have not intended to deceive you. I truly believe cooperation can benefit us both.’

‘You’re not lying,’ said Kaled, shaking his head and looking to the window. ‘I didn’t think Rourke invited me to be collegial, even with a diplomat at his shoulder. And I didn’t think you were here – were given this chance to speak to me, no less – simply out of kindness.’

‘No,’ T’Falith allowed. ‘But I have been very clear that I would not deceive you. That I am satisfied for us to meet again, and that if this can aid in any cordial relations between our missions, so much the better. But there is no intention to exploit our friendship.’

‘There is,’ said Kaled in a low, wry voice. ‘But it is not your intention. I’m not angry, T’Falith. At you or at Rourke. I’d likely do the same thing, were I in his shoes. But I’m sorry. I can’t explain any more about my mission.’

T’Falith nodded, averting her gaze as she thought. ‘I do not want to put you in a position where you must lie to me,’ she said carefully. ‘Nor challenge you to disobey orders or violate your duty to Cardassia. But I must ask: is your mission a danger to Sirius? Or to our mission to find our missing ships?’

He hesitated. That was what she would remember as he gathered words, assessed the landscape before replying. ‘If I learn of any danger to your ship or your mission,’ said Kaled carefully, ‘I will warn you.’ He looked away, eyes settling on the window, at the O-class planet below. ‘It reminds me of Avalon II.’

Her brow furrowed an iota. ‘It lacks the dense pockets of deuterium that affected the ocean hues, and the constructions on the surface were visible from orbit…’

‘T’Falith.’ His voice was lighter, amused. ‘Not everyone sees as you do.’

She looked to the planet, spinning too slow for the naked eye to see, nothing but still oceans in a dark void of chaos. ‘It is… comparable,’ she permitted. ‘But those days are behind us. There is little point in reminiscence.’

‘Perhaps. I spent months on Avalon II and, for the most part, did not want to be there. Now I have left… it had certain charms I had, perhaps, overlooked. There are burdens I must bear now as a ship’s captain I did not have as a researcher.’

Her eyes went back to him, watching in silence. ‘You expressed, on Avalon, how this was what you wanted.’

‘It is. But we can want many things. Sometimes in conflict.’ His lips twitched. ‘You’ve read enough Cardassian literature now to know that this, perhaps, is the nature of our soul? The heart divided?’

‘That may be the nature of all living, sapient beings with any consideration of higher ethics or duties.’ T’Falith paused. ‘But these are, indeed, insights I have gleamed from your recommendations. I found the way Ari Prilam effectively replaced commitment to the family with commitment to the state, instead of the two remaining synergous, as they were in The Never Ending Sacrifice, an intriguing insight into modern Cardassia.’

The corners of Kaled’s eyes crinkled. ‘My people are still in a deep transition. A great change in our very souls and hearts. We are not what we have pretended to be. To the galaxy, or to ourselves. My time on Avalon was short… but it was insightful.’

‘A change in perspective can be invaluable. After years studying Cardassian official records, I found your personal insights rendered my analysis… truly radical. You brought a context I could not have gleaned.’

‘I’m sure your wide knowledge would have brought you there.’

‘I mean to say the emotional context, Gul Kaled. You respect and detest your people all at once. Love and pity them.’ She had never said it so plainly before. It had not been apparent to her before, the way he had jealously guarded his people’s history, not to keep it secret, but to ensure their perspective, their arguments, were always heard. Some, even Locke, had thought this made him a propagandist, always arguing the side of Cardassia.

It was not that he thought his people’s way was the only way, she had come to realise. It was that he wanted his people’s way to be heard. Even if it was wrong. It had taken their separation, his recommendation of Cardassian literature she might not expect to read, before she saw what he saw: the heart and soul divided.

Kaled gave a slow swallow. ‘You know that all of me belongs to Cardassia.’

‘I do not believe that is true, Gul Kaled. Because to be a true son of Cardassia – the son you believe Cardassia needs you to be – part of you must belong to yourself. Else, surely you would be fully loyal to Central Command, and not have been given a mighty ship due to the regard the civilian government holds for you?’

‘Just because I am a moderate does not mean I disobey Central Command -’

‘But you bring perspective. A perspective on the soul divided. Something many people – not merely Cardassians – may not see or understand in themselves, or in their people.’

He shifted his weight, and she could see the tension in his shoulders. The apprehension at how she had, not entirely intentionally, slipped a blade under his skin. ‘And you, T’Falith? You always seem so certain. You have no perspectives on the soul divided?’

‘The only thing I am sure about in myself is that I am always learning who I am,’ she said simply. ‘And you have made an immeasurable impact on that.’

His gaze flickered, and he swallowed. ‘The sentiment is mutual.’

‘Locke to T’Falith.’ Her superior’s voice echoed almost too loudly through comms around the quiet observation lounge. ‘We’re wrapping up here. Escort Gul Kaled to the shuttlebay when you’re done?’

She met Kaled’s gaze, and saw his expression sink back to the mask of professionalism. She nodded. ‘We are on our way.’

When he stood, there was no sign of any rend in him. Merely the visage of the committed Cardassian officer. But it was that Cardassian officer who had stood firm and saved the lives of dozens on Frontier Day five months ago.

‘It is always a pleasure to speak with you, Commander T’Falith,’ said Gul Kaled in his cool, clipped voice.

‘And with you, Gul Kaled.’

But then he gave his deep nod, the subtle gesture of respect she suspected others had not noted, or not read correctly; the inclination of deference and regard that was enough to remind her of the levels beneath the surface, the mystery she had not yet made sense of. The perspective that upturned so much of her own.

‘I… please remember what I said. That I will speak up if I learn of anything that endangers your ship. Endangers – endangers you.’ Before she could respond, he straightened and extended a hand. ‘Please escort me to the shuttlebay. This evening has been… most pleasant.’

‘Indeed,’ said T’Falith, unsure how to respond to his quiet message, satisfied to fall back on his courtesies. She led on rather than interrogate any further. ‘I have found this time to be gratifying indeed.’