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Everything was perfect. Well, almost perfect… Ziyal tried not to think about the one person she had hoped would attend the party who was absent—and the fact that there was a war tearing the quadrant apart… But apart from that. It was perfect.
Damar had “escorted” Ziyal to the party, but they had not said a word to each other, not after their argument yesterday. Damar could barely look her in the eye. It was as if conspiracy was a contagious disease and if he looked at her for more than a second, he would catch it. Then he would be dragged away by some Obsidian Order ghoul to a re-education centre to have his mind wiped cleaned. Not that there's much going on in his mind to wipe, she chuckled to herself.
Thankfully, Dukat had allowed Jake to attend the party as a favour to Weyoun. Apparently, he’s supposed to be reporting on the happenings on the station, but so far Weyoun had dismissed all his reports. Weyoun had suggested he write a report on this party: Cardassians and Bajorians celebrating art together—under Dominion supervision. The Vorta had felt this was an acceptable subject, so long as it passed his editorial overview. Either way, she was glad that Jake was there, he was gentle and kind and showed a real interest in her work, being a creative soul himself.
Surveying the room, she smiled to herself to see so many different species chatting. Cardassian and Bajorian. Vorta and Bajorian. Human and Bajorian. Cardassian and…. Ferengi. Quark had offered to do the catering for the party, but he also seemed to be attempting to purchase artwork in the hopes of starting a valuable collection. She could hear him declaring this party as the start of a creative and lucrative bond between two peoples and that he was proud to be part of it. She was about to move closer to listen to more of Quark’s proposal when she was cornered by her Bajorian professor.
“Ziyal, there you are! I must thank you for being the… the muse! The muse for this coming together of peoples.”
He paused for a moment and Ziyal managed to get a smile and a nod before he continued.
“People have always considered the distance between the Bajorian and Cardassians peoples like the distance between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant! However, you, like the Temple of the Prophets—or the wormhole as our Federation friends call it—that connects the two quadrants. I never knew there was so much overlap between Cardassian and Bajorian art. It is truly fascinating. Sure, the Cardassian art has existed for a long time under the stifling influence of their government.” He looked around nervously at the soldiers in the room. “And of course, well…” He lowered his tone dramatically. “The whole occupation of Bajor did put a dampener on artistic expression of the Bajorian people too…” He cleared his throat and returned to his usual university professor voice. “Nevertheless, we see beauty in the same places and express ourselves with a sensitivity and simplicity that truly stands out against the rest of the… um, well it stands out.” He made a thoughtful face and then nodded as if agreeing with himself.
Ziyal turned to see if Damar, who had been standing close by, had been listening to the professor’s monologue and couldn’t help but giggle at the confused look on his face. Not that she could blame him, it had taken her a whole term of lectures to understand how the man’s brain operated.
“Hi there, Jake Sisko, reporter. Do you mind if I borrow the lady of the hour?” Jake slid between them with his disarming smile.
“Ah, pleasure to meet you. Yes, the Emissary's son. Of course, go right ahead.” The professor bowed and then took his leave, spotting his Cardassian equivalent by the pudding table and cornered him instead.
“Phew, thanks Jake. I thought I was stuck.” Ziyal giggled. “Not that I don’t find him interesting of course, he’s a very clever man. I just think he’s operating a totally different level to the rest of us sometimes. It’s hard to keep up with all the metaphors.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that. He’s got a lot to say.” Jake grinned and then lowered his voice and said, “Reminds me of someone else in your life.” He glanced at Ziyal’s father, Dukat, who was listing the famous paintings he owned personal vault to the head of the Cardassian school of art. The Cardassian academic had the usual neutral face, giving nothing away, but the Bajorian minister that was also listening in looked deeply interested. Was he sucking up to her father?
The pair giggled and exchanged knowing looks.
“Have you managed to get some material for your report?” Ziyal asked.
“A bit. It’s kind of hard to keep up with the professors though. Both the Cardassians and Bajorians have a lot to say on the history of their culture’s artistic expression… and they used a lot of words I didn’t understand.” Jake scratched his head.
Ziyal put her hands on her hips and made a face of mock-disappointment. “Are you telling me you didn’t do your research on the extensive history of art of both worlds before attending the party tonight?”
He held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I’m a professional of course I did!” With a grin on his face, he said, “But there’s a lot of information out there. I know I have a lot of time on my hands, what with Weyoun holding back my reports. But man, I just don’t get it. Colour theory is interesting sure, I like to use colour in my stories to evoke feeling. But a two-hundred-thousand-word essay on the colour red? No, not going to happen.”
The pair broke into giggles again.
“Ah, my dear, it is so wonderful to see you laughing again,” came the voice of Ziyal’s father. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, “Colour theory is a fascinating subject, I agree. In fact, I was telling Mulian earlier about my own interpretation of the Cardassian emblem’s colours.”
“Yes, father, fascinating… Thank you so much for organising tonight. It’s been really great. Oh, and for letting Jake come along, it’s nice to have someone close in age to me.” She beamed at her father.
Dukat smiled back and gave his daughter and affection squeeze. “Anything for you my dear. Jake, you are most welcome. I hope you’ve managed to get enough information for your report on the excellent work I have been doing to unite the Bajorian and Cardassian peoples—”
That really was the slogan for the party!
Clapping his hands together, Jake jumped in before Dukat could continue. “Thanks for having me… yes. Um, well, that wasn’t exactly the angle I was going for. I mean, tonight is great. It's really good to see cooperation… and, er, shared interests and all that. Yeah… will you excuse me a second, Gul? I need to grab a drink.”
Despite his height Jake managed to weave his way around Ziyal’s father and a few professors and artists to reach the pop-up bar in a flash. Ziyal followed him after squeezing her father’s hand in appreciation. Finding herself less agile than Jake, Ziyal bumped into Weyoun having a deep conversation with the Bajorian minister she had seen sucking up to her father.
“Oh, sorry, Weyoun,” she smiled brightly at him but inside she felt uncomfortable—he gave her the creeps.
“No need to apologise, my dear, tonight is all about you… and of course, the bringing together all the races.” He gestured to the room dramatically. “All under the Dominion’s nurturing gaze.” Weyoun smiled that sickly smile before turning to his Bajorian companion. “Minister, please let me introduce you to Dukat’s daughter, Ziyal.”
The man was huge, tall, and broad, looking more like a hunter than a politician. He was bald but had a huge reddish-brown beard that was peppered with white. He merely grunted to acknowledge her.
“Hi… um, I’ve got to uh, go. Bye,” Ziyal said awkwardly before joining Jake at the bar.
“Sorry, I got… distracted.” She grinned at Jake.
“Hey, no worries, I took the liberty of ordering you some Bajorian spring wine. Makes a change from that sickly kanar.”
Ziyal sighed with relief. “Oh, thank you Jake. Yes, I really hate kanar. I just can’t understand why the Cardassians like it.”
“I hope you at least appreciate what your father has done for you tonight.” A voice from behind them.
They spun around to see Damar, his face soured in a look of haughty boredom. One arm steadied him on the bar whilst holding a piece of paper which he was slowly shredding.
“Hello, Damar.” She bit her lip, holding back the urge to shout, “look behind, there’s a re-education enforcer here to get you for disloyalty to the State!”. Instead, she said, “Of course, it’s more than I could ever ask for.” She smiled. “Are you enjoying yourself? I haven’t noticed you chatting to anyone?”
Before he could answer Jake said, “Ha! What would he have to talk about? He probably hasn’t had an original thought in his life.”
Nostrils flaring Damar threw the piece of paper to the floor and squared up to Jake.
“What did you say?” he growled dangerously.
“You heard me. Why did Dukat even invite you? Shouldn’t you be out there hassling innocent Bajorians to make yourself feel like a big man.” Jake baited the soldier.
Ziyal had noticed this was happening a lot, Jake must be losing his patience with the Cardassian presence on the station—he needed his father’s calming influence.
“Hey, why don’t we just grab our drinks and go our separate ways,” Ziyal offered, as she tried to separate the pair. Ignoring her, they both took a step closer to each other their faces drawn in bitter frustration.
“Jake! Come here quickly, I need your help!”
They all turned to look at Quark who was holding a large banner in his hand.
“Ziyal, it’s the banner your father had commissioned to celebrate the relationship between the two universities. It seems to have fallen. Jake, I think you’re the only one tall enough to put it back up.”
Jake gave Damar a dark look before following the Ferengi to the other side of the room to replace the banner which had been securely fastened to the wall only moments ago.
Glass of kanar in hand Damar approached Ziyal. “Want some advice? Stay away from that Human, you don’t want to get too attached. When the Federation falls, he won’t be around for you to share original ideas with.” After glaring at her menacingly, Damar swept off to a dark corner to brood by himself.