“Once we do this, there will be no turning back.”
“Indeed, this is a very public statement but right now we need something bold and daring, something that will get everyone’s attention.”
“If it backfires, we’ll be in a worse off place than we are now!”
“It’s not just the Federation or the Cardies anymore, the Klingons and Romulans will undoubtedly have something to say about it.”
Hunter Beckett took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming his nerves before standing. Around the tables, the others in attendance fell silent—he was after all one of the original movements’ founders and had managed to survive the Jem’Hadar slaughter.
“I know these are worrying times, I know there are a great number of uncertainties, I know that we may face pushback from outside, I know that we only have a few thousand behind us where once there were millions, but I also know that this is our time. We have to take this opportunity for all those we lost, for the hardships we’ve faced, only then can we build something for ourselves and become a force for good in the region.
“I won’t lie, this is going to be hard,” he continued, “but I also know that there is one trait we all share, our resilience. We may get knocked down but we get up and we keep going. If we’re all in agreement, then we will proceed.”
There was a moment of silence as those assembled looking from one to another, the air heavy with hesitation. For a brief moment, he thought that his dream, and that of many others who were no longer with them, was over before he began. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Eneleresh zh’Shia, the oldest of those in the room, rose her hands leant on the table top to support her old bones. “You have my support, Hunter. It’s time that we took charge of our own destiny.”
He gave the wrinkled Andorian a soft smile. Next to her, Mei-Ling Cho stood up. By far the youngest on the new council, she had proven herself a very capable leader.
“I vote yes.”
Sorvaak opposite Cho stood next. “I concur.”
Reese, Kr’Tel, Bauer, and Ijaan all followed suit, throwing their support behind him and his madcap plan. The room went silent, as all the standing members looked at the last one remaining seated, Glarl chim Dolch the representative of Umoth VIII. The Tellarite stroked his long greying beard, not looking at any of the other members. Beckett knew that Dolch would be the hardest member he’d have to win over, as his colony had suffered more losses than any of the others represented and he was the loudest voice of many across each of the colonies wanting to strike back at the Cardies.
“Glarl?” he prompted.
He let out a snort through his porcine-like snout and stood before looking at Beckett. “This is a mistake,” he began. “We shouldn’t be looking to make grandiose statements; we should do what we do best, hitting the frakking Cardies where it hurts!” his proclamation made the slim chain around his neck, on which hung a pair of Cardassian neck bones, rattle.
Beckett squared his jaw and inhaled deeply, ready to argue his corner, but Dolch let out a wary sigh. “But since I seem to be the only one here that still believes that, I will bow to the pressures of the rest of you and agree to this ridiculous plan of yours. But just know, when it fails—and it will fail—me and mine will do what needs to be done.”
He bit his tongue, otherwise they’d just descend into the same argument they’d had countless times over the last three months. Beckett had never been a huge supporter of the increasingly violent means of the Maquis, especially once the Cardassian Union had undergone a political revolution and invasion from the Klingon Empire, all that had merely hastened their destruction at the hands of the Unions new Dominion allies. Taking up the fight again with a fraction of the previous resources and manpower was suicidal. They needed to take a new path, one that had been the ultimate goal of many within the former Demilitarised Zone.
“Very well, it’s agreed,” Beckett affirmed. “I’ll be heading out at eighteen hundred this evening and the announcement will be broadcast at zero hundred, once that’s done everything changes.”
A round of applause rippled around the meeting room, all except for Dolch.
* * * * *
After years spent in the cramped confines of converted couriers and barely holding together freighters, the space of their newest acquisition was startling. The Liberté was exactly what Beckett had been hoping for, but he’d never expected to actually get it. The largest ship the colonists had ever had, it would definitely make a statement thanks to the history of the ship’s pedigree—after all there weren’t many in the quadrant that hadn’t heard tales of the adventures had by Starfleet in the Constitution-Class.
Salvaged from a surplus depot two months earlier, work had been going on non-stop in order to get the ship operational. There had been those in the council that had questioned the effort and resources being put into a single ship, but the Liberté was more than that, she was a symbol something they could pin their hopes on, their new flagship to lead them into their chosen future.
“You alright?”
The soft whisper made him jump. He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he’d lost all awareness of his surroundings. He looked to his left and found Akane Hara smiling at him. She had been born on Juhraya a few months after him and they’d pretty much grown up together. They’d been close, even dated for a time, before life had taken them on separate paths—he’d found a talent for administration and logistics whilst she had followed her passion of becoming a pilot and heading out into space. Since the treaty of 2370 and the formation of the DMZ, he’d barely seen her as things escalated so quickly and the entire region had descended into chaos. He’d bumped into her just days before the Jem’Hadar purge but when the attacks began he didn’t know if she was alive or dead, it was only in the last nine months since the end of the war that he found her once again—commanding her own transport filled with survivors from the attack. When he’d found the old Constitution-Class ship and put in motion his plan for it, Hara was the only person he could think of to fill the centre seat.
He smiled back at her and nodded. “Just a little overwhelmed I guess. I never thought we’d be doing this.”
“We wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you,” she told him, keeping her voice low so no one else on the bridge could overhear them. He felt her hand grip tightly onto his and he squeezed it. “You got this, Hunter.”
“We’re approaching the co-ordinates,” announced the young Bolian at the helm.
Hara gave his hand one more squeeze and then returned to her post. He took a breath and stepped up to the railing behind her chair.
“Drop us out of warp, initiate full scan.”
On the viewscreen, the starts shifted from long strings of light to pinpricks. The simple manoeuvre was so smooth that he didn’t feel a thing, unlike most of the other ships that comprised their small fleet.
“I’m detecting the relay station directly ahead, no other ships in range,” announced the sensor operator from the science station—though Beckett wasn’t sure if the human-looking man at the controls was a scientist or not. The handsome younger man glanced back at him with onyx black eyes, the clear sign that he was a Betazoid and had just heard what was going through Beckett’s head. He offered an apologetic smile to which the Betazoid grinned and turned back to his displays.
Though the Liberté had been his brainchild, he had too much to be getting on with ensuring the colonies had enough supplies to get through each day to worry about just who had signed on to the ship. He knew that Hara would have it all in hand and pick a good crew that believed in what they were about to do.
Hara looked to the opposite side of the bridge. “Let’s get that uplink in place.”
Beckett watched in anxious anticipation as the crew went about their tasks. The Dominion incursion into the DMZ had eliminated all of their long-range communications satellites, so in order to spread their message they needed to borrow one from Starfleet. It took them a good thirty minutes to get into the system, as soon as they were it was highly likely Starfleet would send a ship to investigate the unregistered access, though by that point their message would’ve been sent and their plan set in motion.
“I’m in, though Starfleet definitely knows we’re in their system.”
Hara turned to him. “Now’s your time to shine, Hunter.”
He stepped forward and clasped his hands behind his back. The comms specialist gave him a nod.
“I am Hunter Beckett; I speak on behalf of several of the former Federation colonies in the Demilitarised Zone. Two years ago, Cardassia entered the Dominion and sent the Jem’Hadar into the DMZ to eliminate us. Our homes were destroyed, millions of colonists were killed and thousands fled, but now we have returned to rebuild what we lost.
“However, we will no longer be the pawns of others, sacrificed in the name of peace—though all that brought was more violence and bloodshed. We do not wish any more violence in what was once the DMZ but we will not hand our fates over to others. As of this date, the people I speak for declare their independence and the formation of the Alliance of Free Colonies. Through our own sovereignty, we will determine our own path, and aim to be a force for change and good within the region.
“We ask all the powers that hear this message to respect our right to self-governance and not to hinder any former colonists that wish to return. Thank you.”
Once the channel closed, his legs felt weak and for a brief moment he thought his knees would buckle under him. Luckily, Hara stepped up beside him and rested a strong hand on his shoulder.
“That will most definitely throw the cat among the pigeons.”
“Yup, it’ll definitely do that.”
* * * * *
END
“Indeed, this is a very public statement but right now we need something bold and daring, something that will get everyone’s attention.”
“If it backfires, we’ll be in a worse off place than we are now!”
“It’s not just the Federation or the Cardies anymore, the Klingons and Romulans will undoubtedly have something to say about it.”
Hunter Beckett took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming his nerves before standing. Around the tables, the others in attendance fell silent—he was after all one of the original movements’ founders and had managed to survive the Jem’Hadar slaughter.
“I know these are worrying times, I know there are a great number of uncertainties, I know that we may face pushback from outside, I know that we only have a few thousand behind us where once there were millions, but I also know that this is our time. We have to take this opportunity for all those we lost, for the hardships we’ve faced, only then can we build something for ourselves and become a force for good in the region.
“I won’t lie, this is going to be hard,” he continued, “but I also know that there is one trait we all share, our resilience. We may get knocked down but we get up and we keep going. If we’re all in agreement, then we will proceed.”
There was a moment of silence as those assembled looking from one to another, the air heavy with hesitation. For a brief moment, he thought that his dream, and that of many others who were no longer with them, was over before he began. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Eneleresh zh’Shia, the oldest of those in the room, rose her hands leant on the table top to support her old bones. “You have my support, Hunter. It’s time that we took charge of our own destiny.”
He gave the wrinkled Andorian a soft smile. Next to her, Mei-Ling Cho stood up. By far the youngest on the new council, she had proven herself a very capable leader.
“I vote yes.”
Sorvaak opposite Cho stood next. “I concur.”
Reese, Kr’Tel, Bauer, and Ijaan all followed suit, throwing their support behind him and his madcap plan. The room went silent, as all the standing members looked at the last one remaining seated, Glarl chim Dolch the representative of Umoth VIII. The Tellarite stroked his long greying beard, not looking at any of the other members. Beckett knew that Dolch would be the hardest member he’d have to win over, as his colony had suffered more losses than any of the others represented and he was the loudest voice of many across each of the colonies wanting to strike back at the Cardies.
“Glarl?” he prompted.
He let out a snort through his porcine-like snout and stood before looking at Beckett. “This is a mistake,” he began. “We shouldn’t be looking to make grandiose statements; we should do what we do best, hitting the frakking Cardies where it hurts!” his proclamation made the slim chain around his neck, on which hung a pair of Cardassian neck bones, rattle.
Beckett squared his jaw and inhaled deeply, ready to argue his corner, but Dolch let out a wary sigh. “But since I seem to be the only one here that still believes that, I will bow to the pressures of the rest of you and agree to this ridiculous plan of yours. But just know, when it fails—and it will fail—me and mine will do what needs to be done.”
He bit his tongue, otherwise they’d just descend into the same argument they’d had countless times over the last three months. Beckett had never been a huge supporter of the increasingly violent means of the Maquis, especially once the Cardassian Union had undergone a political revolution and invasion from the Klingon Empire, all that had merely hastened their destruction at the hands of the Unions new Dominion allies. Taking up the fight again with a fraction of the previous resources and manpower was suicidal. They needed to take a new path, one that had been the ultimate goal of many within the former Demilitarised Zone.
“Very well, it’s agreed,” Beckett affirmed. “I’ll be heading out at eighteen hundred this evening and the announcement will be broadcast at zero hundred, once that’s done everything changes.”
A round of applause rippled around the meeting room, all except for Dolch.
* * * * *
After years spent in the cramped confines of converted couriers and barely holding together freighters, the space of their newest acquisition was startling. The Liberté was exactly what Beckett had been hoping for, but he’d never expected to actually get it. The largest ship the colonists had ever had, it would definitely make a statement thanks to the history of the ship’s pedigree—after all there weren’t many in the quadrant that hadn’t heard tales of the adventures had by Starfleet in the Constitution-Class.
Salvaged from a surplus depot two months earlier, work had been going on non-stop in order to get the ship operational. There had been those in the council that had questioned the effort and resources being put into a single ship, but the Liberté was more than that, she was a symbol something they could pin their hopes on, their new flagship to lead them into their chosen future.
“You alright?”
The soft whisper made him jump. He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he’d lost all awareness of his surroundings. He looked to his left and found Akane Hara smiling at him. She had been born on Juhraya a few months after him and they’d pretty much grown up together. They’d been close, even dated for a time, before life had taken them on separate paths—he’d found a talent for administration and logistics whilst she had followed her passion of becoming a pilot and heading out into space. Since the treaty of 2370 and the formation of the DMZ, he’d barely seen her as things escalated so quickly and the entire region had descended into chaos. He’d bumped into her just days before the Jem’Hadar purge but when the attacks began he didn’t know if she was alive or dead, it was only in the last nine months since the end of the war that he found her once again—commanding her own transport filled with survivors from the attack. When he’d found the old Constitution-Class ship and put in motion his plan for it, Hara was the only person he could think of to fill the centre seat.
He smiled back at her and nodded. “Just a little overwhelmed I guess. I never thought we’d be doing this.”
“We wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you,” she told him, keeping her voice low so no one else on the bridge could overhear them. He felt her hand grip tightly onto his and he squeezed it. “You got this, Hunter.”
“We’re approaching the co-ordinates,” announced the young Bolian at the helm.
Hara gave his hand one more squeeze and then returned to her post. He took a breath and stepped up to the railing behind her chair.
“Drop us out of warp, initiate full scan.”
On the viewscreen, the starts shifted from long strings of light to pinpricks. The simple manoeuvre was so smooth that he didn’t feel a thing, unlike most of the other ships that comprised their small fleet.
“I’m detecting the relay station directly ahead, no other ships in range,” announced the sensor operator from the science station—though Beckett wasn’t sure if the human-looking man at the controls was a scientist or not. The handsome younger man glanced back at him with onyx black eyes, the clear sign that he was a Betazoid and had just heard what was going through Beckett’s head. He offered an apologetic smile to which the Betazoid grinned and turned back to his displays.
Though the Liberté had been his brainchild, he had too much to be getting on with ensuring the colonies had enough supplies to get through each day to worry about just who had signed on to the ship. He knew that Hara would have it all in hand and pick a good crew that believed in what they were about to do.
Hara looked to the opposite side of the bridge. “Let’s get that uplink in place.”
Beckett watched in anxious anticipation as the crew went about their tasks. The Dominion incursion into the DMZ had eliminated all of their long-range communications satellites, so in order to spread their message they needed to borrow one from Starfleet. It took them a good thirty minutes to get into the system, as soon as they were it was highly likely Starfleet would send a ship to investigate the unregistered access, though by that point their message would’ve been sent and their plan set in motion.
“I’m in, though Starfleet definitely knows we’re in their system.”
Hara turned to him. “Now’s your time to shine, Hunter.”
He stepped forward and clasped his hands behind his back. The comms specialist gave him a nod.
“I am Hunter Beckett; I speak on behalf of several of the former Federation colonies in the Demilitarised Zone. Two years ago, Cardassia entered the Dominion and sent the Jem’Hadar into the DMZ to eliminate us. Our homes were destroyed, millions of colonists were killed and thousands fled, but now we have returned to rebuild what we lost.
“However, we will no longer be the pawns of others, sacrificed in the name of peace—though all that brought was more violence and bloodshed. We do not wish any more violence in what was once the DMZ but we will not hand our fates over to others. As of this date, the people I speak for declare their independence and the formation of the Alliance of Free Colonies. Through our own sovereignty, we will determine our own path, and aim to be a force for change and good within the region.
“We ask all the powers that hear this message to respect our right to self-governance and not to hinder any former colonists that wish to return. Thank you.”
Once the channel closed, his legs felt weak and for a brief moment he thought his knees would buckle under him. Luckily, Hara stepped up beside him and rested a strong hand on his shoulder.
“That will most definitely throw the cat among the pigeons.”
“Yup, it’ll definitely do that.”
* * * * *
END
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