I can't believe it...I actually wrote a story in one sitting, one night. Star Trek: Sigils and Unions Catacombs of Oralius: “On the Conservation of Species” Author’s Note: For those of you unfamiliar with my writing, I have two main universes I write in—Sigils and Unions, which is an extension of the canon universe post-DS9, and Sigils and Unions: Catacombs of Oralius, which is one of the many quantum universes seen in “Parallels,” this one being the universe where Bajoran and Cardassian roles are reversed. Because the point of divergence between the two universes is 500 years in the past—in the late 19th century by Earth reckoning, yet I assume that the Hobus star and conditions in the surrounding area are the same, there is a possibility that there is at least one of the many quantum universes that was a SigCat universe yet still had the events with the Narada take place. This is a story from that universe. 21 Keledăp, Fourth Year of the 365th Ăstraya [Federation Year 2258] Cardăsa Terăm It crumbled from within—an entire world from within—still—in her mind’s eye, an unholy implosion visited upon them…for what? Revenge, for something some madman thought they would do? Understandably the Federation had immediately classified the entire affair at the highest levels, but that still hadn’t stopped the broad ideas from escaping by word of mouth. The Cardassian public knew already that a heretofore unthinkable superweapon had swallowed the entire planet of Vulcan from the inside out, bringing a once-proud race…and the Federation itself…to its knees. And the Vulcans themselves…it didn’t matter that they claimed mastery of their emotions. There was no way to look at that and not feel the bitterest poisons of anguish sliding down one’s throat. Castellan Nijani Rekelen already regretted having watched the horrific footage of the event that Cardassian intelligence officials had somehow obtained. But such was her duty; she could not shrink back, for any world might be the next to fall. The footage had not been released to the general public of the worlds of Cardassia—and it was the Castellan’s understanding that the Federation had done the same lest the Klingons or Romulans of their time thought to study it to determine how they might achieve the same results for themselves. True, the long-range tachyon telescopes would be catching a faraway view of the implosion soon, once the tachyon emissions from that area reached the worlds nearest to Federation territory, and at that point, even an amateur with the right equipment would be able to see exactly what had happened. But that was no reason to allow more detailed information to get out. But enough knowledge was out. And understandably, the Cardassian people were appalled. Horrified. And frightened. She had already spoken within minutes of the news reaching the media—but the people had to know their leaders would stand strong throughout this crisis…whatever else came out of it beyond the already incomprehensible destruction. They needed a unified response moving forward...spiritual and secular standing together, no dissent, no visible gaps in the armor they extended to protect the Cardassian people. And to that end, Rekelen had gathered her top advisors to draft a coordinated response. Already they had touched on matters of intelligence, defense, and diplomacy. Tending to home…that was a different matter. Rekelen turned to the two Guides in the room—Orator Ayret, the head of the Chamber of Guides, and Burek, her appointed personal advisor—and Leader Miput, the head of the Chamber of Delegates, who provided secular representation. Still, the Castellan addressed the same question to all three. “How are the people doing spiritually?” “Unnerved,” Ayret reported succinctly, her face revealing how unequal she felt, despite her title, to the atrocity against the Federation. Against Oralius. “The Guides in our home prefectures are all reporting that they’re being inundated with people seeking counsel. And comfort. But,” with an almost shy smile of…was it a species of pride? “Our offices are also being flooded with calls and letters, asking for some way to help.” “Leader Miput?” The head legislator nodded. “We’re all getting the same thing.” Castellan Rekelen sighed. She’d been feeling it too. Already—though for security reasons the people would not be informed until after the fact—Astraea herself, along with representatives from several minority sects, had left for the Vulcan sector under the guard of two Verkoun-class cruisers specially cleared to enter Federation territory, to offer their prayers as near to the site of the genocide as civilian traffic could safely pass. But as needed as this mission of intercession was, it still felt like a child’s helpless cry against the darkness, in the most terrible, literal sense possible. “Can we send doctors?” Burek asked. Rekelen replied with a mournful shake of the head. “For the most part…if you were close enough to be caught up in it, that was it. The Federation’s medical corps has attended to the injured.” “Is it true,” Miput inquired with a raised eye ridge, “that there are only ten thousand of them left?” “I’m afraid so,” the Castellan confirmed. “A few more than that…but close enough.” Councillor Hoven, the Castellan’s appointed science minister, spoke up here. “With what we know about the Vulcan species, there is a very real risk that they could die out, with those numbers. If we were talking about Cardassians, our research suggests that there’d be enough genetic diversity for us to survive. But there’s reason to believe that even with their long lifespans, Vulcans simply cannot grow their families at the rate we can. A diaspora may kill them.” Burek narrowed her eyes; Rekelen recognized this as the Guide’s ‘thoughtful’ gesture. “They are a desert species…” “That’s right,” Hoven answered. “Their entire world is—was…” she corrected with a solemn bow of the head, “a desert, and it was that way from the very beginning. They are very specifically adapted to such conditions. We are adapted for high temperatures, compared to the worlds where most cardasdanoids evolved, and we can live in deserts when we have to.” And of course many Cardassians had to, in one form or another, since the onset of the Cataclysm. “But we are not specialized to the degree that Vulcans are. There aren’t as many warm, arid worlds out there, that are still habitable to cardasdanoids, as you would think there are.” Oh, my… Rekelen felt a chill—though not an unpleasant one—down her neck ridges: she thought she saw where Burek was going with her line of reasoning. “To what degree,” the Castellan inquired, “are Vulcans able to thrive in other environments?” She thought she knew the answer—but it honestly didn’t matter. The idea held merit nonetheless. “We know there are Vulcans in Starfleet,” Hoven supplied. “Federation starships are typically kept at temperatures we would find chill. And the city on Terhăn Terăm where their Academy is…it’s a cold, humid place. They can survive there, but while they would probably never say it, I’m sure it’s about as unpleasant to them as it would be to us.” Ten thousand of them… Castellan Rekelen thought. Just a small town—that’s all that’s left…dear Oralius. Or a few small villages. “What are you thinking, Guide Burek?” Burek fixed her Castellan with intense, yearning eyes. “That we could offer the Vulcans sanctuary somewhere on Cardassia Prime. There are times when we have to fight battles against our world—but it may well be that the way our world has become can represent a blessing to an orphaned people.” “With the utmost respect, Guide,” Leader Miput interjected, “the people might go for that on compassionate grounds, but can Cardassia really afford it?” Rekelen gave voice to her earlier thought. “You’re talking about what amounts to a small town. When you put that in perspective with some of the natural disasters we’ve dealt with—that’s really not as large of a number as it sounds. And it stands to reason that not all Vulcans would come here.” “But some of the ones that do might choose to settle here permanently instead of seeking a home somewhere else,” Miput rebutted. “And I don’t think the people will go for that.” Orator Ayret shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she spoke up. This was apparently not how she had been expecting Rekelen to respond to the people’s expressed desire to help. “I admire your compassion, Castellan. And Burek. But I am concerned about the influence that Vulcan ways might bring to our culture. Their belief is in an apotheosis of logic, at the expense of even measured emotional expression. And unlike some of the worlds in the Federation—the disciplines they subject their minds to have analogues in Hebitian culture.” Orator Ayret came from a highly conservative sect, one that still retained the use of the term ‘Hebitian.’ For the sake of governmental unity, Ayret spoke of the people as Cardassian in public—but in closed circles like this, Ayret spoke according to her deepest beliefs. “A terhăn would not be able to achieve Kolinahr…that means the eradication of emotion. I shudder at the thought that perhaps a Hebitian could. If you do bring them here, Castellan, I would ask that you enjoin them from proselytizing.” Rekelen narrowed her eyes…but from her this was not a thoughtful gesture: it was one of rebuke. Few people would speak this way to a Guide, but her position allowed her, within bounds, to do so. “Orator Ayret—what you are suggesting tramples all over the principles of our law. Giving them the right to live on Cardassian soil would bring them within the purview of the Right of Worship. I am sworn to uphold that Right, and as long as their sect does not require them to do violence, I will not interfere with what amounts to their religious speech. Or that of any Cardassians that do decide to try Vulcan disciplines. Regardless of what I may personally think of that.” Burek nodded her agreement. “I don’t believe most Cardassians would find themselves tempted. Almost everyone I know back home, Oralian or not, holds our ability to feel, and to express those feelings, in the utmost esteem. Being able to laugh with joy…to weep in mourning…is a part of what we are. Oralius offers us a way to live with the emotions that she gave us…a way to think and feel as she does. And sometimes what she would feel about a situation…hurts. Even the negative emotions are part of the Cardassian experience. We are Cardassians with or without belief—” “Though not Hebitians,” Ayret interrupted. Burek continued as though she had heard nothing. Her appointment was entirely the Castellan’s prerogative, and she belonged to a very different sect than the one Ayret belonged to—one that did not see the name of the species as a crucial tenet of the Oralian faith and thus preferred the fully inclusive term. “—but without emotion, we become something else entirely. They are Vulcans; we are Cardassians. It’s as simple as that. I believe the vast, vast majority of Cardassians will recognize that. No matter how capable we might be of actually adopting their ways, I think it’s so fundamentally alien to us that most people wouldn’t contemplate it for a second. I think we can allow the Vulcans to live with us, and show them respect as sentient beings, without adopting their ways. “But I don’t think there would be anything wrong with asking them to respect our sacred places, our relics, and our rituals. That’s also part of the Right of Worship. And as far as civility goes, I think it can be explained to them how people are likely to feel if they choose to express themselves bluntly about our faith. They would be intelligent enough to know that, just like their world was dominated by Surak’s philosophy, ours is almost as much so by various expressions of faith in Oralius and that our rules of civility are built around that. And I would respectfully mention, Orator, that the Vulcans aren’t known for dishonesty. If they feel they can’t abide by the Right of Worship, or be a very small minority in a largely religious culture—which of course means that their children may well wish to try our ways—then I don’t think they’ll accept any offer we might give them.” “I wouldn’t make an offer without making sure they know exactly what they’re getting into,” Rekelen assured both Guides. “Given how limited our contact with the Federation has been until now, I’m sure there’s a lot they don’t know about our culture. If they think Iloja of Prim is all that we are, they’re in for a surprise,” she said, allowing herself a tiny, tiny laugh. The irascible poet, with what could be characterized as only the loosest of Oralian beliefs, had toured all over the known galaxy, including Vulcan. One gets the impression that the man isn’t all that keen on his home. But, she added, despite her personal disapproval of Prim’s libertine ways, thank Oralius he wasn’t on Vulcan when it happened. Say what you want about Prim, but he does have an ear for beauty when he sets pen to paper, and losing him would be losing a cultural treasure. A hard-drinking, foul-mouthed, womanizing ‘treasure.’ But still. That would’ve been horrible.
“Only if they can show full respect to our ways,” Orator Ayret emphasized. “That’s the only way I would lend my support to this offer.” “I think they will, Orator,” Burek said. “And respecting our ways does not mean they have to adopt our ways,” Rekelen reminded the ranking member of the Chamber of Guides. Leader Miput took that opportunity to clear his throat. Rekelen knew that sound…she knew that meant the legislator wasn’t finished with his objections. “The fact still remains, Castellan, that Vulcan refugees will consume resources. From what the intel reports described, they’ve been left with nothing but the clothes on their back. They’ll need housing, food, clothing—that’s a massive undertaking.” “And not one that I intend, any more than you, to be the sole or even majority burden of the government,” Rekelen answered with a disarming smile. “We may have to help—some—with housing, but the open hearts of the Cardassian people can be trusted to step in and provide most of the rest. And I’m sure the Vulcans themselves would have a hand in their own rebuilding.” "As for resources,” Councillor Hoven piped up, “you might be interested to know that Vulcan culture is quite similar to ours in that regard. They may have had more in the way of minerals on their world…but water and foodstuffs were always at a premium on Vulcan. Not to mention some of the damage they did in the days before Surak.” That part of Vulcan history was well-known to everyone—that like Earth and unlike Cardassia Prime, their planet had endured nuclear warfare. But not just once as Earth had…multiple times, with weapons eventually designed to minimize damage to the planet but maximize damage to the people. “So I think the last thing you’d have to worry about is their coming here and bringing wasteful ways with them. Their culture practically revolves around minimizing their ‘footprint’ on their world. It has even longer than ours. “If anything…I think you could expect them to show Cardassia the same care they showed to their own homeworld, once we explain what kind of home we have to offer them. And speaking of that…the areas of Cardassia Prime that are most like their world are not our agricultural areas. Nor are they densely populated. They are the true deserts,” she said, using a Cardassian term for those areas that had been deserts even before the Cataclysm. Rekelen nodded. Her husband, a native of Culat, had some Kurabda blood…Kekil-haaf, to be exact…therefore she herself was connected to one of those areas. “Rest assured,” Rekelen said, “that I will not make a decision on where the permanent Vulcan settlement would be until I’ve personally spoken with all of the authorities in those regions to see who is open to the idea, and most able to sustain it.” The non-Oralian tribes of Revakian, for instance, were highly unlikely to allow any encroachment upon their territories, for they held the land itself to be sacred. Such would be tantamount to an attack, and that Rekelen would not do. But Cardassia had no shortage of deserts; someone would undoubtedly say ve’ to the idea. She wouldn’t even rule out the Kekil-haaf saying yes, thanks to the old Culatda blood they had from the days of the Cataclysm. Miput still made one last attempt. “There are those,” he said carefully, without specifying whether he was one of those, “who might be uneasy with the idea of the Vulcan population expanding if we end up becoming more to them than a place to stay while they survey worlds for colonization. If we become a permanent home to some of them. That little drain of resources won’t be so little anymore.” Castellan Rekelen had to fight back the impulse to snort and laugh in a way that would have been entirely unbefitting of the dignity of her office. Still, she couldn’t resist saying, “And our population doesn’t expand?” Councillor Hoven was definitely warming to the idea. “And ours expands at one of the highest rates of all the major intergalactic powers,” she contributed. “There are Federation worlds, like Denobula or Skorr, that match or exceed our birth rates—some dramatically so. Earth is in the middle. But when you average in Andor, Grazeri, and worlds like those, we still come out above them. We’re about as opposite to the Vulcans as you can get in that regard. We will always be the ones, proportionally speaking, who continue to take a greater and greater share of resources.” In other words, Leader, Rekelen could hear Hoven saying, don’t you dare try to make Vulcan resource usage into a piece of political latinum to deflect attention from what we have chosen for ourselves. Certain types of interference in reproductive processes, except where there was danger to the mother’s health, were strictly proscribed under the laws of the Cardassian Theonomy. Various Oralian sects believed in further restrictions, and as a whole, Cardassian society valued large families. As bad as things had become on Cardassia Prime at the start of the Cataclysm, the idea of reducing the birth rate had only entered the political discourse on the utmost fringes. Fringes even Rhirzum Akleen, in his misspent youth, hadn’t belonged to. “Ladies,” the Castellan declared, “and gentleman,” with a nod at Leader Miput, “I thank all of you for our input. I intend to pray on the decision—but I am strongly inclined towards inviting those Vulcans who wish to do so, to settle on Cardassia Prime. It’s simple, as far as I’m concerned: this is a critically-endangered, sentient species to whom a scattering of the population will be fatal. Worlds like ours…where they can be truly comfortable…are in short supply. We can help them find a suitable uninhabited world—along with the Federation—if another exists that would be suitable. But they need a home while they search...somewhere safe where they can go ahead and start the work of restoring their population. We may not have as much as some of the powers around us…but we still have a home. They have none. Yes, they are different from us. But we have the chance to help them. And I believe we should. “I hope,” she emphasized, “to approach Ambassador Sarek within the week. The sooner they have somewhere to settle, the better. Logistics can be worked out in concert with the provincial Prefect and the Vulcan refugees before we actually sign legislation, but I believe we can make it work. The Cardassian people say they want to help…and I believe they will, once they know there is a way.” As Castellan Rekelen expected, Burek and Hoven nodded their agreement immediately. Orator Ayret and Leader Miput still gave no assent, but their expressions spoke finality—they knew their Castellan’s mind was made up, and she would have no problem, if a viable and willing location were found, appealing straight to their respective Chambers to gain whatever allies she could. I understand now, Castellan Rekelen thought to Oralius, what it means when you say that even our misfortunes can still be salvaged for your benefit. I never thought that our world, groaning with the pains of Cataclysm, could be exactly what an endangered people might need. We may have little, but let this gift still be found worthy in your eyes. Sarek of Vulcan rose from his chair as the wall screen chimed, feeling a weariness beyond his years that the logical side of his mind attributed to the cold aboard the mostly human-crewed starship and the inevitable physical stress from the kinds of hours he had been working. But the side of his mind that had taken a human woman as his wife, and fathered a half-human son who seemed now to be acknowledging his human side more than he had since early childhood, had to admit it was the weariness of mourning. Of being part of a species where there was no ‘many’—only the few, and the one. He switched on the screen, to find himself greeted by a woman with a grey, ridged face with somewhat reptilian features…therapsid, his precise mind corrected itself…but long, elaborate black tresses woven into a sparkling hairpiece, perfectly coifed despite the utterly illogical expenditure of time and energy such a thing would have taken to accomplish. The woman—a Cardassian—smiled with a bittersweet, gentle expression that Sarek recognized as an emotional being’s expression of what one human had termed misericordia in his native language: to feel grief for the sake of the other. Some of the other, more emotional mammalian races had expressed a visceral discomfort with their features, based on that of certain predators on their homeworlds, but Sarek felt not even a twinge of unease. Their reputation was that of a peaceful people—one thoroughly embracing the irrational, to be sure, but peaceful. Already the leaders of their religion had come to pray near the gaping void where once their world had been…a gesture Sarek himself would not have made, but which spoke well of the intentions of this woman’s people. “Ambassador Sarek,” she began. “I am Castellan Rekelen, head of the worlds of Cardassia. I grieve for the loss your people have suffered, and I pray daily to Oralius on your behalf.” “I thank thee for thy regard, Castellan,” Sarek replied in his most formal Old High Vulcan. “Ambassador…I’m not sure how familiar you are with Cardassia—but I believe we can help you. Parts of our world are not unlike your own…and I already have not just one, but three communities in those areas that have expressed a willingness to accept settlement by your people. We understand that you may already have plans to seek another world of your own, and we are willing to assist in that endeavor as well…but until that time, your people can have a home—together—with us if you feel, after we provide you with more information about our worlds and culture, that it will work for you.” Under ordinary circumstances, Sarek might have interjected to clarify that such a decision would not be made upon the basis of any sort of feeling. This was not surprising phrasing from a Cardassian, from what he knew about them. But such feelings could well prove the way for Vulcan to begin their recovery from the catastrophic near-genocide inflicted upon their people—a people that could not be scattered to the winds like a lost katra, if they were to have acceptable odds of survival. “Yours is a most generous offer,” Sarek answered, the words his culture allowed seeming wholly inadequate to this gesture. “Please send your information at your soonest convenience, and I will review it and take it to my people for consideration.” “It’s already ready to go,” the Castellan replied, that smile widening. “I’ll send it right away. I have instructed my staff to contact me immediately as soon as you’re prepared to respond—it doesn’t matter if I have to leave a meeting or if they wake me. I will be ready for your decision any time.” Ambassador Sarek ran through the various responses the modern Vulcan language allowed him. None of those expressions fit, so instead he switched to the Federation Standard that his son spoke most of the time. It was often said that one does not thank service…but this was far more than service. This could mean life. “I thank you, Castellan Rekelen.”
An interesting discussion; everyone brings good points that have merits and cannot be ignored. Each person looks at the same problem from a different perspective--the perfect company to discuss important matters and not forget about anything vital. Would the Vulcans want to live among irrational, emotional, religious people and not fear to be influenced by them? I imagine they are going to have a similar meeting soon.
You're right...it was a good thing for Castellan Rekelen that she had not just the people who were likely to say yes to the things she wants (her two appointees), but Orator Ayret and Leader Miput as well, who are not as likely to just go for what she says, and who are willing to speak their minds to her. The AU Cardassians would encourage the Vulcans to discuss it openly and fully before making their decision. I do know that whatever happens, not every Vulcan would come to Cardassia. For instance, I strongly believe the younger Spock intends to declare Earth as his home. But in the case of full-blooded Vulcans, I think that even if a large portion of the refugees accepted the Cardassian offer, there might be one enclave somewhere else. Of course, the Vulcans would also discuss the logic and the potential impact of such a split at a time when cohesion is strongly needed, especially if it occurred along what you might call "party lines." So, it's a very complex question, and one they would indeed need to take their time discussing.
A most fascinating tale--unique, in that it is, for the most part, merely a discussion over events--before and after--that happen "off screen". One question--I assume, then, that the Catacombs universe is an expansion of the Trek XI universe, whereas the Sigils universe is an expansion of the "Prime" universe?
Actually, the point of divergence between the two universes is in the 19th century. So what that means is, there are two very different universes where the Narada did its dirty deed: one that is an extension of the main Sigils universe, and one that is an extension of the SigCat universe. (The Narada interfered with the timeline in the 23rd century, not the 19th.) If you go over to Ad Astra, and read "Cardassian Sunrise," that's the Sigils-universe version, and it's VERY different from this one.
A thoroughly enjoyable read - thank you! I confess I tend to think of Cardassians as being more inclined to defer emotion to logic and practical exigency. This in an intriguing and engaging exercise in possibilities.
In some ways, Leader Miput represents pragmatism. They are still comparatively resource-poor, and do have to have at least some of that But these AU Cardassians (in both Sigils and Unions: Catacombs of Oralius) are the cultural heirs of the Hebitians...still highly spiritual, very much a people of faith. They do have strong scientific prowess, and in that way they can be logical...and I know they are very thoughtful when it comes to their theology. They're not exactly like the Bajorans...I do tend to think of them as more stoic, in certain ways. But I would consider them a people of deep emotion. I've always thought the canon Cardassians were too--but they were afraid of it and try to bury it.
That was a very fascinating, left-field approach to the Vulcan Problem. Never thought of Cardassia as a possible salvation. And even though it hovered in the back of my mind, the Vulcan breeding habits resulting in extinction never reared its ugly head so obviously until you pointed it out. A great little tale, Nerys!
A rather good look at how an alternate Cardassia would respond to the destruction of Vulcan. Well done.
Thanks. It's not the Cardassia of the canon universe, or even the universe I assume we see in Star Trek XI...this is kind of, what would it be like if the events of Star Trek XI took place in a Catacombs of Oralius universe (the one where Dukat's "good twin" comes from). Glad you liked it! And thank you, too, Fardell!
Though i haven't read many of your stories, it's obvious you've put lots of effort into back story, and details. It continues to impress me. As for this story, it's a very interesting situation and a grand gesture on the part of the Cardassians. The question of the Vulcan refugees is an important one. It makes me wonder if the JJverse will address it or if it'll become an isolated thing. At any rate, really nicely written!
Thanks for reading. This is a universe I've been working on for a long time (well, a variant of that universe), with the AU Cardassia, and there are many stories already written for it--as well as the main Sigils and Unions material, some of which is still related. If you're interested, I can show you my theory on one way the larger political situation could work in a universe with the canon Cardassians. I have a story for that, too, and I can PM you with it. Needless to say, it's a very different outcome. Just let me know.
A good story, I'm glad you left it open ended, because it was the debate more than the end result that was the most important thing, IMO. Like Dnoth I'm not familiar with your work, but you definitely put a lot of time into building your universe and it pays off. I enjoyed the points and counterpoints and it reminded me of a lot of debates we are having in the US regarding immigration and religious tolerance. So, the social timeliness is very much in the tradition of Star Trek.
You might laugh...but I was actually deep enough into my universe as I wrote that the US parallels weren't really that clear to me until I read it back. I just wish that in real life, we could discuss things calmly like these people did. There are key differences, though, between the AU Cardassian government and the US. Parts of their government remain overtly religious, so what the religious authorities say has a chance--though not an uncontested chance--to become law. I do not believe that we humans can pull that off without serious problems, though. Anyway...thanks for taking the time to read this. EDIT: Rush Limborg, please clean your PM box!
That was a thoroughly engaging debate among the leaders of the Cardassian people. It was a very realised picture of this particular AU and it was a very fitting gesture on the part of the Cardassians. Being somewhat familiar with this AU universe and your others, I wasn't surprised by the generous act of the Cardassians however I still found myself absorbed by the discussion.
Thank you so much for reading...I'm glad you liked it and it still drew you in even though you may have been able to see it coming.
I actually started doing so the moment after I sent my last message. Surely Cardassians are renowned for their patience, amid Machiavellien planning? (And I'm speaking as someone who's just read The Prince for Political Theory class.... ADD/AS Moment: I can't help but wonder if there was a Cardassian version of Machiavelli in Cardassian history? I wonder...)
Hm...Tret Akleen himself could count, in a way. The Sigils version, that is...the SigCat version is ornery and pragmatic but not so Machiavellian anymore. But I'm sure there are some ideological forbears he drew from (although knowing the government pre-Cataclysm, those might not have been the easiest writings to find).