This story didn't come out quite like I'd planned, so please be warned. It was a diffucult challenge to wrap myself around, so I went in a different direction. If you like reporters, you may not want to read this. It either verges on, or goes way over the top, depending on your perspective. It may be a little preachy, but if it starts any discussions or comments then so be it. Here it is, enjoy, I hope...
September 5th, 2475
100th Anniversary of end of First Dominion War
Risa Retirement District, Veterans section
Lisa Feller, senior journalist for the Federation Times, stood up from the makeup chair and tore off the paper that had been protecting her simple yet tasteful blouse. Brushing a stubborn brown hair from her forehead, she took one last look in a proffered hand mirror and exited the small shuttle.
Her vanity made her see clearly the narrow crows feet wrinkles starting at the edges of her eyes and mouth, but her pride kept her from seeking medical treatment for the early signs of aging. She had more important things to do.
Estimates were that the Federation alone was loosing two to three thousand veterans per day of one of the most costly conflicts in Alpha Quadrant history. Many of those left, men and women who served long before most citizens were even born, were beginning to talk about the war. It was as if they feared finally the loss of knowledge they had kept closely guarded for decades. A subtle shift was happening, from quiet remembrance of those who did not make it through that conflict, to a more vocal honoring of those compatriots dying all around them currently.
One of the students in a low-level journalism class Feller substitute-instructed for had brought up an idea for a documentary based on interviews with surviving veterans due to the recent loss of a great uncle or some such relation, and that student’s desire to learn more of a conflict only briefly talked about in the last few months of the uncle’s life.
Lisa had dismissed the idea as old news and redirected the class discussion towards other directions, but secretly she had decided to take the idea for her own and make it the capstone of her career. One final flair for the dramatic, then she would ride off into the sunset as it were, and enjoy her retirement.
She strode up purposefully to her cameraman, leaned in close and said, “Remember, when I ask the old codger what his most upsetting memory was, when he starts to get choked up, be sure to focus in on me and catch the tear that runs down my cheek.”
The cameraman nodded, “Gotcha.”
This was going to be cake. Interview a series of veterans and get them all choked up on camera while thinking about the horrors of war. Some of them might even admit that the Federation should not have jumped into the conflict so easily and should have more strongly pursued diplomacy first.
She walked in and demurely introduced herself to her first interviewee, a Sean Davis, former Starfleet Marine and at 124, one who probably didn’t have much time left.
“Mr. Davis, a pleasure to meet you. First off let me thank you for allowing me to interview you for this documentary. It’s something that should have been done a long time ago.”
Davis stood as she approached and waited for her to offer her hand before shaking it, firmly. “No, thank you, young lady.”
She laughed briefly, “It’s been a long time since anyone has called me that. You make me feel like a school girl.” Lisa briefly and gently rested her hand on the man’s arm.
Sitting, Lisa adjusted her angle on the chair so she was half facing Davis. She usually had some sort of rapport by this point, but as she glanced into his eyes, she couldn’t help feeling that she was being sized up, and wasn’t all that sure that his opinion was favorable. Oh well, time to get started.
“Roll em,” she said to the cameraman. The operator signaled with outstretched fingers, counting from three to one and then pointing at Lisa.
Smiling at the camera, she began. “This is Lisa Feller, and it is my privilege to have with me here today Mr. Sean Davis, former Federation Marine Sergeant and veteran of the Dominion Incursion.”
Busy talking, Feller failed to notice Davis’s jaw tighten at the word incursion, but before she could continue, he interrupted with one word, spoken quietly but still loud enough to be picked up by the holographic sound system. “War.”
Feller was paying so much attention to her own delivery that while she heard the man speak, she didn’t comprehend what he’d said. Stopping her monolog, hoping for some juicy tidbit, she asked, “What was that, Mr. Davis?”
Davis repeated himself, elaborating. “I said War, Maam. It was the Dominion War. An Incursion in an attack that penetrates enemy territory. Do you know how many incursions into Federation territory the Dominion made during the War?”
As the blood started draining from her face, Lisa Feller, attempted to regain her composure and failing, croaked, “Well, I...”
“Five hundred sixty-three separate incidences, not counting scouting missions.” Davis answered for her.
Covering quickly, Lisa complimented the man on his knowledge. “That’s quite an impressive memory Mr. Davis. After all this time, you still remember. Since most people weren’t around then, myself included,” Feller chuckled “I was hoping that you and some of your fellow veterans of that horrible time could share with us your memories. Other than painful memories, what is something you remember the most?”
Davis thought for a moment, then replied. “I remember the sheer joy that ran through my unit when it was over, when we had won.”
Feller pursed her lips slightly, “So many deaths, does anyone really win in war?”
Davis didn’t even pause before answering, “The Federation, and its ideals were preserved. We stopped the Dominion in its conquest of the Alpha Quadrant. Ms. Feller, I joined the Marines because I believe that there are things worth fighting for, some things worth winning. I still believe it. If you’re looking for someone torn by ambiguity, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Just then the door swished open quietly and an elderly Cardassian woman entered. She walked over to Davis, kissed him gently on the forehead. Looking at Feller, the woman shook her head slowly. “Another reporter Sean?”
The old man laughed, “I’ve got to have my hobbies Callie.”
Then it was his turn to look at a baffled Lisa Feller, “Excuse me, Ms. Feller. Allow me to introduce my wife, Calakat. Callie, this is Lisa Feller from the Federation Times.”
Seeing the Cardassian woman incline her head ever so slightly in her direction, Feller knew she had to break the ice or botch the interview. Still, her mind was reeling that her intern had failed to notify her that her interviewee was married to a Cardassian.
She had planned to ask Davis about how he and his Marines were treated while occupying Cardassia following the war, when the former star power was treated as nothing more than a vassal state to the Federation. Apparently, that line of questioning wasn’t going to be very productive.
Seeing Feller fumble, Calakat smiled slightly, and interjected herself into the interview. “Since he won’t bring it up, did you happen to read the citation for the Starfleet Medal of Honor my husband received during the alliance liberation of Cardassia?”
Lisa Feller became even more puzzled, “Weren’t millions of Cardassian civilians killed in that attack? If the Federation had pursued diplomatic solutions, those deaths....”
Calakat’s voice tightened, “The Cardassian underground was engaging in your highly touted ‘passive’ resistance against the Dominion occupation. Shutting down power stations, disrupting supply lines, etc. In response the Dominion destroyed Lakarian City and killed two million Cardassians.”
“We were supposed to buckle and be good slaves then, but when military commanders and more populace turned against them, the Dominion decided to destroy as much of Cardassia as they could.”
Staying obviously agitated, Calakat continued. “If it weren’t for the alliance fleet, the civilian casualties would have been much higher than the eight hundred million it was.”
Feller sat stunned and listened to the Cardassian’s tirade, only thinking of a question through sheer luck. “I didn’t think there were any Federation forces on Cardassia during that battle?”
Sean stood up and put his arm around his wife’s shoulder, comforting her, “There weren’t supposed to be, but due to the botched boarding attempt of a Dominion capitol ship, my platoon ended up on the surface. The one who should have got a medal was the transporter operator that managed to re-materialize us on the surface before the Chesapeake was destroyed. They must not have been able to get the Dominion ship to cooperate in dropping its shields. We’ll never know now.”
“My men regrouped and fought alongside a group of mostly unarmed civilians struggling to protect their children from Breen death squads.”
Feller tapped her stylus against the PADD she held loosely in the hands out of nervousness. “Sergeant, what made you side with the Cardassians? For all you knew at the time, they were the enemy. Aren’t Marines trained to shoot first and ask questions later?” Too late, she realized her mistake, and the angle she had missed.
Davis didn’t miss it. Shaking his head, “If you even have to ask that question, this interview is over. When you see just one parent throwing herself in front of a Breen disruptor to save her child, it becomes easily obvious who the enemy is. Now if you will excuse us.”
With that, Sgt. Sean Davis, former Federation Marine, stood and escorted his wife from the room. The two didn’t even glance at Feller as they left.
The cameraman started to chuckle quietly, but was cut short by a scathing glare from Feller, “Just erase that. And get makeup in here, I need a powder touch-up.”
An hour later it became apparent that her next interviewee wasn’t going to show. Several attempts at contacting others on Feller’s list left her assistant shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.
Frowning, but with nose held high, Lisa Feller strode out of the room, and towards her shuttle. She would have to regroup, and find others to talk to.
September 5th, 2475
100th Anniversary of end of First Dominion War
Risa Retirement District, Veterans section
Lisa Feller, senior journalist for the Federation Times, stood up from the makeup chair and tore off the paper that had been protecting her simple yet tasteful blouse. Brushing a stubborn brown hair from her forehead, she took one last look in a proffered hand mirror and exited the small shuttle.
Her vanity made her see clearly the narrow crows feet wrinkles starting at the edges of her eyes and mouth, but her pride kept her from seeking medical treatment for the early signs of aging. She had more important things to do.
Estimates were that the Federation alone was loosing two to three thousand veterans per day of one of the most costly conflicts in Alpha Quadrant history. Many of those left, men and women who served long before most citizens were even born, were beginning to talk about the war. It was as if they feared finally the loss of knowledge they had kept closely guarded for decades. A subtle shift was happening, from quiet remembrance of those who did not make it through that conflict, to a more vocal honoring of those compatriots dying all around them currently.
One of the students in a low-level journalism class Feller substitute-instructed for had brought up an idea for a documentary based on interviews with surviving veterans due to the recent loss of a great uncle or some such relation, and that student’s desire to learn more of a conflict only briefly talked about in the last few months of the uncle’s life.
Lisa had dismissed the idea as old news and redirected the class discussion towards other directions, but secretly she had decided to take the idea for her own and make it the capstone of her career. One final flair for the dramatic, then she would ride off into the sunset as it were, and enjoy her retirement.
She strode up purposefully to her cameraman, leaned in close and said, “Remember, when I ask the old codger what his most upsetting memory was, when he starts to get choked up, be sure to focus in on me and catch the tear that runs down my cheek.”
The cameraman nodded, “Gotcha.”
This was going to be cake. Interview a series of veterans and get them all choked up on camera while thinking about the horrors of war. Some of them might even admit that the Federation should not have jumped into the conflict so easily and should have more strongly pursued diplomacy first.
She walked in and demurely introduced herself to her first interviewee, a Sean Davis, former Starfleet Marine and at 124, one who probably didn’t have much time left.
“Mr. Davis, a pleasure to meet you. First off let me thank you for allowing me to interview you for this documentary. It’s something that should have been done a long time ago.”
Davis stood as she approached and waited for her to offer her hand before shaking it, firmly. “No, thank you, young lady.”
She laughed briefly, “It’s been a long time since anyone has called me that. You make me feel like a school girl.” Lisa briefly and gently rested her hand on the man’s arm.
Sitting, Lisa adjusted her angle on the chair so she was half facing Davis. She usually had some sort of rapport by this point, but as she glanced into his eyes, she couldn’t help feeling that she was being sized up, and wasn’t all that sure that his opinion was favorable. Oh well, time to get started.
“Roll em,” she said to the cameraman. The operator signaled with outstretched fingers, counting from three to one and then pointing at Lisa.
Smiling at the camera, she began. “This is Lisa Feller, and it is my privilege to have with me here today Mr. Sean Davis, former Federation Marine Sergeant and veteran of the Dominion Incursion.”
Busy talking, Feller failed to notice Davis’s jaw tighten at the word incursion, but before she could continue, he interrupted with one word, spoken quietly but still loud enough to be picked up by the holographic sound system. “War.”
Feller was paying so much attention to her own delivery that while she heard the man speak, she didn’t comprehend what he’d said. Stopping her monolog, hoping for some juicy tidbit, she asked, “What was that, Mr. Davis?”
Davis repeated himself, elaborating. “I said War, Maam. It was the Dominion War. An Incursion in an attack that penetrates enemy territory. Do you know how many incursions into Federation territory the Dominion made during the War?”
As the blood started draining from her face, Lisa Feller, attempted to regain her composure and failing, croaked, “Well, I...”
“Five hundred sixty-three separate incidences, not counting scouting missions.” Davis answered for her.
Covering quickly, Lisa complimented the man on his knowledge. “That’s quite an impressive memory Mr. Davis. After all this time, you still remember. Since most people weren’t around then, myself included,” Feller chuckled “I was hoping that you and some of your fellow veterans of that horrible time could share with us your memories. Other than painful memories, what is something you remember the most?”
Davis thought for a moment, then replied. “I remember the sheer joy that ran through my unit when it was over, when we had won.”
Feller pursed her lips slightly, “So many deaths, does anyone really win in war?”
Davis didn’t even pause before answering, “The Federation, and its ideals were preserved. We stopped the Dominion in its conquest of the Alpha Quadrant. Ms. Feller, I joined the Marines because I believe that there are things worth fighting for, some things worth winning. I still believe it. If you’re looking for someone torn by ambiguity, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Just then the door swished open quietly and an elderly Cardassian woman entered. She walked over to Davis, kissed him gently on the forehead. Looking at Feller, the woman shook her head slowly. “Another reporter Sean?”
The old man laughed, “I’ve got to have my hobbies Callie.”
Then it was his turn to look at a baffled Lisa Feller, “Excuse me, Ms. Feller. Allow me to introduce my wife, Calakat. Callie, this is Lisa Feller from the Federation Times.”
Seeing the Cardassian woman incline her head ever so slightly in her direction, Feller knew she had to break the ice or botch the interview. Still, her mind was reeling that her intern had failed to notify her that her interviewee was married to a Cardassian.
She had planned to ask Davis about how he and his Marines were treated while occupying Cardassia following the war, when the former star power was treated as nothing more than a vassal state to the Federation. Apparently, that line of questioning wasn’t going to be very productive.
Seeing Feller fumble, Calakat smiled slightly, and interjected herself into the interview. “Since he won’t bring it up, did you happen to read the citation for the Starfleet Medal of Honor my husband received during the alliance liberation of Cardassia?”
Lisa Feller became even more puzzled, “Weren’t millions of Cardassian civilians killed in that attack? If the Federation had pursued diplomatic solutions, those deaths....”
Calakat’s voice tightened, “The Cardassian underground was engaging in your highly touted ‘passive’ resistance against the Dominion occupation. Shutting down power stations, disrupting supply lines, etc. In response the Dominion destroyed Lakarian City and killed two million Cardassians.”
“We were supposed to buckle and be good slaves then, but when military commanders and more populace turned against them, the Dominion decided to destroy as much of Cardassia as they could.”
Staying obviously agitated, Calakat continued. “If it weren’t for the alliance fleet, the civilian casualties would have been much higher than the eight hundred million it was.”
Feller sat stunned and listened to the Cardassian’s tirade, only thinking of a question through sheer luck. “I didn’t think there were any Federation forces on Cardassia during that battle?”
Sean stood up and put his arm around his wife’s shoulder, comforting her, “There weren’t supposed to be, but due to the botched boarding attempt of a Dominion capitol ship, my platoon ended up on the surface. The one who should have got a medal was the transporter operator that managed to re-materialize us on the surface before the Chesapeake was destroyed. They must not have been able to get the Dominion ship to cooperate in dropping its shields. We’ll never know now.”
“My men regrouped and fought alongside a group of mostly unarmed civilians struggling to protect their children from Breen death squads.”
Feller tapped her stylus against the PADD she held loosely in the hands out of nervousness. “Sergeant, what made you side with the Cardassians? For all you knew at the time, they were the enemy. Aren’t Marines trained to shoot first and ask questions later?” Too late, she realized her mistake, and the angle she had missed.
Davis didn’t miss it. Shaking his head, “If you even have to ask that question, this interview is over. When you see just one parent throwing herself in front of a Breen disruptor to save her child, it becomes easily obvious who the enemy is. Now if you will excuse us.”
With that, Sgt. Sean Davis, former Federation Marine, stood and escorted his wife from the room. The two didn’t even glance at Feller as they left.
The cameraman started to chuckle quietly, but was cut short by a scathing glare from Feller, “Just erase that. And get makeup in here, I need a powder touch-up.”
An hour later it became apparent that her next interviewee wasn’t going to show. Several attempts at contacting others on Feller’s list left her assistant shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.
Frowning, but with nose held high, Lisa Feller strode out of the room, and towards her shuttle. She would have to regroup, and find others to talk to.
