In space the diminutive Raven class USS Feuos came along side the Excelsior class USS Crazy Horse, at a continually slowing speed. Operating only on maneuvering thrusters, the ships matched one anothers velocity, and eventually came to station keeping.

Aboard the bridge of the Feuos, Captain Farnsworth awaited the transfer of her newest crew member, a Cardassian, and former member of the Obsidian Order - Gionna.

USS Crazy Horse, Officer’s Lounge-

Gionna had been granted amnesty by the Federation in exchange for sensitive information pertaining to several potentially dilithium rich worlds that were located inside the Helaspont Nebula. In exchange for this information, Gionna would be granted an honorary rank of Lieutenant junior grade, within the sciences division.

However, even twenty five years after the end of the Dominion War, many Starfleet officers held prejudices towards Cardassians, and some saw their service aboard a Starfleet ship as an insult.

Ensign Michael Prol sat across to Gionna sharing a bottle of kanar. Prol was the half-Cardassian son of a traitor. He had never seen Cardassia,  nor any chance to interact with other Cardassians.  Growing up he was always the outsider, despite their very different backgrounds and age that was the one unifying factor. 

“I have enjoyed getting to know you Lieutenant,” Prol said looking out the massive window and seeing a Raven-class along side them.

Gionna watching the swirling amber colored liquid in her glass. She hadn't enjoyed a good vintage glass of the beverage since her self-imposed exile from Cardassia. The flavor was rich and intoxicating. However, she was more fascinated with the swirling motion, than the consumption of it. The downward spiral reminded her of her recent career choices, and how it had sent her personal life into abysmal mess.

She could not believe she had decided to work for Starfleet in exchange for personal freedom. She wondered what had caused her to sink so low. Once, she had been one of the top agents of the order. There was a time in her career when she could have worked a confession out of a prisoner, with just a mere threat of torture. Now she was trading secrets with the enemy.

“Interesting year.” She said, examining the bottle. “How can you wear that uniform? Doesn't it make your skin crawl?”

She asked.

“I suppose I will be made to wear one too?”

He shrugged, he didn't know what to say about that.  He didn't know a life outside of the Federation. Luna, the Academy, and now here. That was the only life he knew. Cardassia was some mythical place far away and only in his father’s stories.

“I suppose it would be harder for you. My father struggled at first. Mostly because the intelligence he was giving to Starfleet meant the death of fellow Cardassians.  I know he feels guilty about that.  Not betraying the Dominion or Dukat, but getting other Cardassians killed. He always said he was a coward, and wanted me not to follow in his footsteps.   So, I didn't.”

Gionna stood, and straightened out her clothing. The time for self indulgence was over. It was time to commit to the path she'd chosen.

“I intended no insult. Cardassia's fate was sealed long before your father or I made our choices. The next time you see your father, remind him that the actions he took were to save our perfect union, not condemn it.”

She stopped just before heading to the door, and turned back towards Michael.

“The uniform looks good on you. You are a credit to it. Remember, no matter what colors you wear, you are always Cardassian.” She said. “Shall we go?”

He nodded, “I'll walk you to the transporter.”  They walked in silence for several moments.  Just outside the transporter room Prol spoke, “I am glad to have met you.  I only wish it wasn't under such a short duration.”

Gionna turned before heading into the transporter room, and looked at him.

“Indeed,” she said, “What is the human expression? We are all one big happy fleet. Perhaps you and I will serve together in the future?”

She did not shake hands. However, practicing the venerated respect of their mutual history, she bowed deeply to him. He was a good young man. She hoped to see him again.

Prol bowed in return,  and turned and headed for engineering wondering if this was one of those encounters that came and went to never be seen again.  He hoped not.