This will be my first time entering one of these challenges, and the second time I have posted a story on the board. Hopefully I'm entering the contest correctly.
Please offer any feedback about what I've written. I'd like to know how I can improve.
Bad Weather
From the vantage point of his office window, Gul Jubaylin watched joyfully as the moons’ rotations brought several new colonies into view.
He had worked many long days the past two years to rebuild what the Dominion had destroyed. Once large thriving communities, the colonies on the outer moons orbiting the gas giant Rhyzum V were gutted and turn into outposts for the war. They eventually were pillaged and destroyed like many other Cardassian installations by the Jem’Hadar and the Breen as punishment for turning against their masters.
Now that the war was over, and the Cardassians were free from the Founders rule. His people were tasked with the long journey of recovery.
It may have been hard, but the results were well worth it. The moons looked so beautiful he thought against the swirling backdrop of the gas giant’s hydrogen clouds.
Taking another sip of his drink, the Gul absorbed the sight of the various ships trafficking to and from the busy space station. Many of them were civilian and merchant ships. Some headed to the nearby moons, others away to some distant part of the Union, perhaps to give aid to another needy community. There wasn’t a shortage of people in need these days. Not after the massacre which left over eight-hundred million dead on Cardassia Prime. Plus the hundreds of thousands of others throughout their space left broken and homeless.
Nonetheless, it served as a small comfort to know, that life on the colonies here were starting to return to normal. He knew the new Governing Council would be satisfied with his progress. The colonies in this system were an important part of the Union’s heritage; as well as his own.
What he saw next however spoiled his mood instantly.
He’s keen eye sight and tactical mind told him that the distant figures coming into view were three Klingon cargo ships flanked by two Birds-of-Prey. Decloaking a few thousand kilometres off upper pylon three, one cargo ship followed by a Bird-of-Prey broke formation and were headed to dock. The remaining vessels continued towards the nearest moon
He fought the urge to sound the station alarm, to prepare for battle. It always got to him, even though he was expecting their arrival. He had no problem receiving help from former enemies like the Federation or even the Romulans, but the Klingons were another matter. So raw and brutish, it bordered on insulting having to work with them so closely. But they did need their help. And it was just his plain misfortune to get an assignment in the Relief Zone where the Klingons lent a hand.
“Command to Jubaylin.” The stern female voice of Glin Pinar announced over the comm. system.
“Report.” He simply replied.
“The Ih’Kog is on approach to dock. Their commander is requesting permission to beam over immediately,” after a pause she added woefully, “it's N’Eiraz.”
“...Of course it is”. He held back a deep sigh and downed the last of his fish juice. “Very well, I’ll be out to greet the captain in person.”
Every minute with a Klingon was a lesson in diplomacy, he always believed. Of all the Klingons he had met, either in battle or in this new age of cooperation, N’Eiraz was perhaps the hardest to stomach. Stepping through his large office doors he found himself in the familiar surroundings of the Nor class space station’s command centre.
He may not have been as ruthless or daring as some of his countrymen, but Jubaylin was a valued officer. Lacking those traits was perhaps the reason he had survived, while so many others had fallen. Those under his command came to like and respect him as a level headed leader. He was trusted by his own superiors to be dedicated to them and to the Union instead of his own personal agenda. With many years of loyal service under his belt, he had created for himself a dignified career.
“Begin transport.” He called out.
“You’re a brave man.” Pinar said playfully to her superior, letting her good-humoured side show through her professional demeanour.
“That’s why I’m in command.” He lightly joked to his friend and colleague.
Briskly, he walked over to the transport pad as the shimmering copper matrix materialized into the form of a lofty looking female warrior.
“Welcome to Ventok Nor.” He offered as impersonally as he could.
“Jubaylin!” Captain N’Eiraz bellowed as she grasped the shorter man be his shoulders. “It is good to see you again.”
She dwarfed the Cardassian officer in height and load and most others in verboseness as well. Jubaylin was of average height standing at approximately six feet. But next to N’Eiraz, he barely made it up to her shoulders. His lithe frame looked especially weak next to her powerful build. “We have much to talk about. Join me for a glass of blood wine. We’ll toast to the on going success of the relief effort.”
“Your enthusiasm is much appreciated.” He awkwardly broke his way out of the Klingon’s firm grip. “However there is still work to do. Not everyone has been as fortunate as the Rhyzum colonists... Not every mission has been a success.” He regretted that last statement, and quickly pushed it aside. “But if you are feeling parched, perhaps I could interest you in a warn cup of fish juice?” He said with a smirk.
N’Eiraz let out a laugh that echoed throughout the command centre, officers turned from their stations in surprise. Never had they heard a laugh so loud from one individual.
Rubbing his ear, Jubaylin motioned the captain towards his office so they could continue their conversation in private. As they walked past Pinar, the Gul gave her a look that told her to keep the whimsical quips she was surely forming in her mind where it belonged.
Until their guest had left that is.
Once inside his office Jubaylin went straight to business.
“I take it you didn’t beam right into my command centre just to exchange pleasantries.” He moved behind his desk to give himself some space from the Klingon woman. Clad in tight leather pants and an open blood red jacket, her house insignia was pinned to her shirt just below her ample cleavage. The sleeveless jacket showed off the many battles scars on her powerful truck like arms. “What’s the situation? You wouldn’t be guarding a supply run with two Birds-of- Prey without cause.”
“You are of course right.” Becoming serious she placed her hands on the top of his desk and leaned in. Jubaylin hoped the desk wouldn’t tip over. “It’s the Remnant; they’ve been making more aggressive movements throughout this area. I believe raids on my convoys are inevitable.”
The Remnant, as they were now referred to, was what remained of the Dominion in the Alpha Quadrant. Although the Jem’Hadar were bred to be loyal to the Founders, it was no secret that they held a level of distrust, even scorn, for their Vorta handlers. There had been reports of Jem’Hadar killing their Vorta superiors, or even disserting the war all together. So it came to little surprise when stories of Alpha Jem’Hadar, genetic soldiers specifically conditioned to fight in this part of the galaxy, refused to return to the Gamma Quadrant.
Not at all sanctioned by the Dominion, these renegade soilders posed a threat to the fragile peace.
“I suppose it were only a mater of time before the rogue Jem’Hadar were reduced to stealing supplies from the Klingons.” He said flatly.
“They are cowards!” She slammed her hands down on the desk causing Jubaylin’s neatly stacked rows of reports to spill about. “They abandoned their posts after the war, taking anything of value with them, and hide now in asteroids and plasma fields. It robs us the pleasures of victory! It is dishonourable! We should have destroyed every last Jem’Hadar while we had the chance!”
“Yes, indeed.” He nodded half-heartedly as he wiped her projectile spit of his uniform. “I assure you that our military is well aware of the possible Remnant threat and is prepared to deal with them if need be.”
“If need be!” She was astonished. “The need is there I assure you!” She paced back and forth between the desk and the doors as she talked. Her feet made a metallic thud each time her heavy boot touched down. “I have seen reports of cargo ships going missing on route to your worlds near the Badlands.”
“That’s hardly uncommon considering the area. None of these reports of Remnant activity have ever been confirmed.” He did his best to contain his growing annoyance with his unfortunate ally. “But even so, the Cardassian military can still match any threat given. We are not the helpless beggars the Alpha Quadrant would make us out to be.”
“For your sake I hope so!”
Jubaylin raised a disapproving eyebrow. The ridges on his neck twitched.
“Between the rouge Alphas, growing anti-Cardassian sentiments and your own peoples’ unrest, you are running out of allies. Your bravery in the face of a deadly enemy is admirable Jubaylin, but nothing will be accomplished by stubbornness!”
The Klingon’s demeanour suddenly grew soft, something he didn’t know N’Eiraz was capable of. “A change is coming that will sweep through our respective empires. Accept it or not, my friend, it is inevitable. We have to do everything that we can to ensure that this change is for the better. We have to – together – or else the future is already lost.”
Her dark eyes connected with her Cardassian counterpart and she could tell he doubted her words. “The Ih’Kog will be docked at Ventok Nor for another day while my crew takes some time to rest, but my ships won’t be in the sector for much longer. We will be unable to provide you with the assistance you will need until we are able to return.” She said and watched as the older man’s eyes narrowed into an icy glare.
“Thank you for your offer captain.” His words came harsh and bitter. “But you know as well as I, that the Klingons have just as much rebuilding to do as anyone else.” He cocked his head accusingly. “Your own military losses were immense. Parts of your borders still lay open for pirates and thieves. Perhaps you and the Empire should focus its attention on your own problems. Before the winds of change blow you down, that is.”
A low growl rumbled in N’Eiraz’s throat. One out of anger or amusement at the implication that her Empire had weakened Jubaylin could not tell. A string of Klingon curses that the translator failed to decipher was her reply. She stood there with a toothy grin and an unsettling leer in her eyes.
Reaching to his desk controls he opened the door signalling that their meeting had ended. But with a glib smile and an odd cheerfulness he added as she left, “I hope you and your crew find the station as hospitable as always. Until next we meet.” As the doors closed Jubaylin slumped down into his chair feeling exhausted. So much for diplomacy he mused.
From her station, Glin Pinar watched with a mixture of glee and sympathy at the animated discussion taking place inside the Gul’s office.
Normally keeping a stoic disposition while on duty, she allowed herself a few silent giggles at the behemoth N’Eiraz’s wild movements. The woman’s occasional roars only added to Pinar’s amusement.
She knew how much Jubaylin loathed the Klingon woman. She only hoped the Gul would show some restraint. When she first started this assignment, Pinar was impressed by how passionate Jubaylin had been about rebuilding the colonies. If it wasn’t for him the people of this system would still be destitute and living in squalor. However, she couldn’t deny that there was something different about him. That fire which drove him had dwindled into a few embers.
She wished she could understand and help her friend.
The doors to Jubaylin’s office slid open, and out came a livid N’Eiraz. Crewmen jumped out of her way as she stormed towards the lift and descended into the station.
Looking to one another other for answers, her fellow officers were left wondering what had happened. Their joint speculation could be heard whispering around the command centre.
Standing at attention, Pinar rallied her people, “Back to your stations!” She ordered strictly.
The junior Glins quickly scurried back to their posts like frightened voles to their nests. Pinar remained standing, observing them firmly while casting concerning looks towards Jubaylin’s office doors.
Please offer any feedback about what I've written. I'd like to know how I can improve.
Bad Weather
From the vantage point of his office window, Gul Jubaylin watched joyfully as the moons’ rotations brought several new colonies into view.
He had worked many long days the past two years to rebuild what the Dominion had destroyed. Once large thriving communities, the colonies on the outer moons orbiting the gas giant Rhyzum V were gutted and turn into outposts for the war. They eventually were pillaged and destroyed like many other Cardassian installations by the Jem’Hadar and the Breen as punishment for turning against their masters.
Now that the war was over, and the Cardassians were free from the Founders rule. His people were tasked with the long journey of recovery.
It may have been hard, but the results were well worth it. The moons looked so beautiful he thought against the swirling backdrop of the gas giant’s hydrogen clouds.
Taking another sip of his drink, the Gul absorbed the sight of the various ships trafficking to and from the busy space station. Many of them were civilian and merchant ships. Some headed to the nearby moons, others away to some distant part of the Union, perhaps to give aid to another needy community. There wasn’t a shortage of people in need these days. Not after the massacre which left over eight-hundred million dead on Cardassia Prime. Plus the hundreds of thousands of others throughout their space left broken and homeless.
Nonetheless, it served as a small comfort to know, that life on the colonies here were starting to return to normal. He knew the new Governing Council would be satisfied with his progress. The colonies in this system were an important part of the Union’s heritage; as well as his own.
What he saw next however spoiled his mood instantly.
He’s keen eye sight and tactical mind told him that the distant figures coming into view were three Klingon cargo ships flanked by two Birds-of-Prey. Decloaking a few thousand kilometres off upper pylon three, one cargo ship followed by a Bird-of-Prey broke formation and were headed to dock. The remaining vessels continued towards the nearest moon
He fought the urge to sound the station alarm, to prepare for battle. It always got to him, even though he was expecting their arrival. He had no problem receiving help from former enemies like the Federation or even the Romulans, but the Klingons were another matter. So raw and brutish, it bordered on insulting having to work with them so closely. But they did need their help. And it was just his plain misfortune to get an assignment in the Relief Zone where the Klingons lent a hand.
“Command to Jubaylin.” The stern female voice of Glin Pinar announced over the comm. system.
“Report.” He simply replied.
“The Ih’Kog is on approach to dock. Their commander is requesting permission to beam over immediately,” after a pause she added woefully, “it's N’Eiraz.”
“...Of course it is”. He held back a deep sigh and downed the last of his fish juice. “Very well, I’ll be out to greet the captain in person.”
Every minute with a Klingon was a lesson in diplomacy, he always believed. Of all the Klingons he had met, either in battle or in this new age of cooperation, N’Eiraz was perhaps the hardest to stomach. Stepping through his large office doors he found himself in the familiar surroundings of the Nor class space station’s command centre.
He may not have been as ruthless or daring as some of his countrymen, but Jubaylin was a valued officer. Lacking those traits was perhaps the reason he had survived, while so many others had fallen. Those under his command came to like and respect him as a level headed leader. He was trusted by his own superiors to be dedicated to them and to the Union instead of his own personal agenda. With many years of loyal service under his belt, he had created for himself a dignified career.
“Begin transport.” He called out.
“You’re a brave man.” Pinar said playfully to her superior, letting her good-humoured side show through her professional demeanour.
“That’s why I’m in command.” He lightly joked to his friend and colleague.
Briskly, he walked over to the transport pad as the shimmering copper matrix materialized into the form of a lofty looking female warrior.
“Welcome to Ventok Nor.” He offered as impersonally as he could.
“Jubaylin!” Captain N’Eiraz bellowed as she grasped the shorter man be his shoulders. “It is good to see you again.”
She dwarfed the Cardassian officer in height and load and most others in verboseness as well. Jubaylin was of average height standing at approximately six feet. But next to N’Eiraz, he barely made it up to her shoulders. His lithe frame looked especially weak next to her powerful build. “We have much to talk about. Join me for a glass of blood wine. We’ll toast to the on going success of the relief effort.”
“Your enthusiasm is much appreciated.” He awkwardly broke his way out of the Klingon’s firm grip. “However there is still work to do. Not everyone has been as fortunate as the Rhyzum colonists... Not every mission has been a success.” He regretted that last statement, and quickly pushed it aside. “But if you are feeling parched, perhaps I could interest you in a warn cup of fish juice?” He said with a smirk.
N’Eiraz let out a laugh that echoed throughout the command centre, officers turned from their stations in surprise. Never had they heard a laugh so loud from one individual.
Rubbing his ear, Jubaylin motioned the captain towards his office so they could continue their conversation in private. As they walked past Pinar, the Gul gave her a look that told her to keep the whimsical quips she was surely forming in her mind where it belonged.
Until their guest had left that is.
Once inside his office Jubaylin went straight to business.
“I take it you didn’t beam right into my command centre just to exchange pleasantries.” He moved behind his desk to give himself some space from the Klingon woman. Clad in tight leather pants and an open blood red jacket, her house insignia was pinned to her shirt just below her ample cleavage. The sleeveless jacket showed off the many battles scars on her powerful truck like arms. “What’s the situation? You wouldn’t be guarding a supply run with two Birds-of- Prey without cause.”
“You are of course right.” Becoming serious she placed her hands on the top of his desk and leaned in. Jubaylin hoped the desk wouldn’t tip over. “It’s the Remnant; they’ve been making more aggressive movements throughout this area. I believe raids on my convoys are inevitable.”
The Remnant, as they were now referred to, was what remained of the Dominion in the Alpha Quadrant. Although the Jem’Hadar were bred to be loyal to the Founders, it was no secret that they held a level of distrust, even scorn, for their Vorta handlers. There had been reports of Jem’Hadar killing their Vorta superiors, or even disserting the war all together. So it came to little surprise when stories of Alpha Jem’Hadar, genetic soldiers specifically conditioned to fight in this part of the galaxy, refused to return to the Gamma Quadrant.
Not at all sanctioned by the Dominion, these renegade soilders posed a threat to the fragile peace.
“I suppose it were only a mater of time before the rogue Jem’Hadar were reduced to stealing supplies from the Klingons.” He said flatly.
“They are cowards!” She slammed her hands down on the desk causing Jubaylin’s neatly stacked rows of reports to spill about. “They abandoned their posts after the war, taking anything of value with them, and hide now in asteroids and plasma fields. It robs us the pleasures of victory! It is dishonourable! We should have destroyed every last Jem’Hadar while we had the chance!”
“Yes, indeed.” He nodded half-heartedly as he wiped her projectile spit of his uniform. “I assure you that our military is well aware of the possible Remnant threat and is prepared to deal with them if need be.”
“If need be!” She was astonished. “The need is there I assure you!” She paced back and forth between the desk and the doors as she talked. Her feet made a metallic thud each time her heavy boot touched down. “I have seen reports of cargo ships going missing on route to your worlds near the Badlands.”
“That’s hardly uncommon considering the area. None of these reports of Remnant activity have ever been confirmed.” He did his best to contain his growing annoyance with his unfortunate ally. “But even so, the Cardassian military can still match any threat given. We are not the helpless beggars the Alpha Quadrant would make us out to be.”
“For your sake I hope so!”
Jubaylin raised a disapproving eyebrow. The ridges on his neck twitched.
“Between the rouge Alphas, growing anti-Cardassian sentiments and your own peoples’ unrest, you are running out of allies. Your bravery in the face of a deadly enemy is admirable Jubaylin, but nothing will be accomplished by stubbornness!”
The Klingon’s demeanour suddenly grew soft, something he didn’t know N’Eiraz was capable of. “A change is coming that will sweep through our respective empires. Accept it or not, my friend, it is inevitable. We have to do everything that we can to ensure that this change is for the better. We have to – together – or else the future is already lost.”
Her dark eyes connected with her Cardassian counterpart and she could tell he doubted her words. “The Ih’Kog will be docked at Ventok Nor for another day while my crew takes some time to rest, but my ships won’t be in the sector for much longer. We will be unable to provide you with the assistance you will need until we are able to return.” She said and watched as the older man’s eyes narrowed into an icy glare.
“Thank you for your offer captain.” His words came harsh and bitter. “But you know as well as I, that the Klingons have just as much rebuilding to do as anyone else.” He cocked his head accusingly. “Your own military losses were immense. Parts of your borders still lay open for pirates and thieves. Perhaps you and the Empire should focus its attention on your own problems. Before the winds of change blow you down, that is.”
A low growl rumbled in N’Eiraz’s throat. One out of anger or amusement at the implication that her Empire had weakened Jubaylin could not tell. A string of Klingon curses that the translator failed to decipher was her reply. She stood there with a toothy grin and an unsettling leer in her eyes.
Reaching to his desk controls he opened the door signalling that their meeting had ended. But with a glib smile and an odd cheerfulness he added as she left, “I hope you and your crew find the station as hospitable as always. Until next we meet.” As the doors closed Jubaylin slumped down into his chair feeling exhausted. So much for diplomacy he mused.
From her station, Glin Pinar watched with a mixture of glee and sympathy at the animated discussion taking place inside the Gul’s office.
Normally keeping a stoic disposition while on duty, she allowed herself a few silent giggles at the behemoth N’Eiraz’s wild movements. The woman’s occasional roars only added to Pinar’s amusement.
She knew how much Jubaylin loathed the Klingon woman. She only hoped the Gul would show some restraint. When she first started this assignment, Pinar was impressed by how passionate Jubaylin had been about rebuilding the colonies. If it wasn’t for him the people of this system would still be destitute and living in squalor. However, she couldn’t deny that there was something different about him. That fire which drove him had dwindled into a few embers.
She wished she could understand and help her friend.
The doors to Jubaylin’s office slid open, and out came a livid N’Eiraz. Crewmen jumped out of her way as she stormed towards the lift and descended into the station.
Looking to one another other for answers, her fellow officers were left wondering what had happened. Their joint speculation could be heard whispering around the command centre.
Standing at attention, Pinar rallied her people, “Back to your stations!” She ordered strictly.
The junior Glins quickly scurried back to their posts like frightened voles to their nests. Pinar remained standing, observing them firmly while casting concerning looks towards Jubaylin’s office doors.
I assume the colonies and the station shared the Klingon ship's fate. And just when I started to like Gul Jubaylin and hoped I'd see more of him.
) 
. How very Cardassian.)
