| What was the oddest gift you have ever received? |
[12 Apr 2004|08:54am] |
Without question, my daughter Ziyal. But for those among you who might take issue at my characterizing her such, allow me to elaborate.
Ziyal's safe return to me was the greatest gift I have ever received, the most powerful, the most beautiful, the most generous, and the most profound. It remains the oddest as much due to the fact that the woman who made it possible -- the lovely col_kira_nerys -- yet considers herself my enemy as for what it represented, both in my life at the time and in my life, and my destiny, as I now know it.
When I was in charge of the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor, before my Legate title was stripped from me, I had the pleasure of encountering a Bajoran slave woman by the name of Tora Naprem. And while relations between Bajoran slaves and their Cardassian overseers were far from rare, I must emphasize that what Naprem and I had far transcends such tawdry cliche, though I am wise enough now to know that there are some among you who refuse to believe that. I loved her, more than I knew a broken man such as myself had the capacity for love, more than I expected I would ever be blessed with in my miserable and tortured life.
When Ziyal was born -- I confess this now with a heavy heart -- I wished very hard for some accident to befall her, that she would be put out of her misery, and ours -- the misery inevitable to the half-Cardassian offspring of a Bajoran slave. That she was also the half-Bajoran offspring of the Prefect of Bajor never crossed my mind, that she was mine, that she might have some love for me, some desire to share in her father's heritage seemed too much to wish for. I had a wife, at the time, six children of my own, full strapping Cardassians who would throw rocks at the half-breeds they saw hiding in the shadows of the labor camps. It breaks my heart to think I encouraged that behaviour, but I did, I own it now; even as I loved Naprem I saw the children of other such unions as aberrations, blemishes on the good face of Cardassia.
Naprem and Ziyal were taken to a Breen labor camp not long after that. I allowed myself to forget them. I left them to die. I thought, selfishly, egomaniacally, yes, that they would be better off. I thought that I would be.
When the good Kira Nerys brought me to the camp many years later, I went with the single intention of killing Ziyal, if she had had the misfortune to survive up until that point. Nerys stopped me from doing so, and I cursed her for it, but I loved her for it, loved her for showing me that I could have a grown daughter that loved me, loved Nerys for taking Ziyal in and caring for her as if she were her own.
I have not lived a single moment of happiness since Ziyal's death. I would go further and say I have not lived.
But I have learned one thing. My life in the shadow of Bajor is not yet complete; I am in fact of Bajor, as Naprem was of Bajor, as Ziyal was, as Nerys and her dear Emissary Captain Sisko still are.
I was drawn to their world during the Occupation because it called out to me for salvation. I know now -- thanks in large part to the love of the Pah-Wraiths, who love me as Bajoran as much as the false prophets ever loved their alien Emissary -- that it was not Bajor's salvation that called for me, it was my own.
And Bajor will save me, a little at a time. It gave me Naprem, and Ziyal, it gave me Nerys, and Adami. It gave me the Pah-Wraiths. It gave me an identity, as their humble servant. It gave me back my life in the fire caves. It gave me reason. It gave me hope.
So perhaps Bajor is the greatest gift I have ever received, but Ziyal's return to me remains the strangest, the most wonderful, and the most painful.
I hope I do some honor to her memory now; I hope she would have wanted this. I hope that, wherever she is, in the arms of the Pah-Wraiths, she still loves me.
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[09 Apr 2004|10:52pm] |
The formidable Captain mal_dasheng has, wisely, decided he cannot yet trust me as a member of his crew. He has therefore seen fit to interview me, and I do hope my answers meet with his satisfaction.
That being said, and because I believe the local custom insists upon it -- if you are reading this and would like to be interviewed yourself, just say the word.
1. Do you actually think that insulting me and mine is a way to garner yourself my favor? *chuckles* I'm afraid that's a bit of a cultural discrepancy. Members of my race find conflict and insult to be most seductive -- ask my friends legate_damar, kaiwinnadami or col_kira_nerys if you doubt me. I am sorry if I seemed hostile or abrupt -- I assure you, no offense was intended.
2. If you have all these resources yourself, why can't you get yourself your own ship to fly rather than hitching a ride with us? Unfortunately, I am also a marked man. Those who I used to call friends have either been killed or corrupted by the influence of the Dominion or those Bajoran false gods, the Prophets. They have succumbed to authority and would have me killed if only for the bounty. Yes, my friend -- with the exception of my dear associate kaiwinnadami -- whom I would have you meet, for I believe you will find her both wise and charming -- I fear I am quite alone, and in need of some...discreet protection.
3. What technology do you have that I might find both useful and lucrative? Ah, a business man, very good, very good indeed! But we must save some surprises for later, mustn't we? Still, to show good faith -- perhaps you have heard that some ships maintain the ability to "cloak," that is, to travel undetectable to enemy ships' sensors or viewscreens. Such technology would be invaluable to a ship like this, would it not?
I cannot acquire a cloaking device for you free of charge, but I'm relatively certain I can get one for a modest fee -- details to be worked out after you agree to my safe passage on board Serenity.
4. No insult intended, but you got a rather distinctive look about you that ain't quite human. What is that about? I was born Cardassian, though my soul is of Bajor -- Bajor being a planet neighboring my homeworld of Cardassia, and with whom we were at war for much of my adult life. Believe me, coming to learn that my soul belonged to a race whom I consider a most grave enemy was a shock indeed. But then, the universe is full of surprises.
I take it you have not encountered aliens of my species in your travels? I could introduce you to some most interesting races, many of whom possess technologies you could scarcely imagine.
And lastly, it ain't so much a question but:
5. I hear your talk about operating outside rules and regulations and morals, but I ain't so sure we have as much in common as you think. Convince me otherwise. Perhaps you are right, my young friend. I stand corrected. I do not know you well, nor do you know me, but what I see is this: we are both wanted men, traveling at the mercy of vast and powerful interstellar alliances that would as soon have our heads. We rely upon chance, and therefore have good eyes and ears for opportunity should it present itself. We are loyal to those we love, and we believe in just causes. You believe in your ship, and your crew, and your rebellion -- I believe in my people, and my gods, the Pah-Wraiths, and those who love them, and would come to accept their love.
I am a wanderer, a journeyman, a student of civilization, perhaps. Traveling around, learning about other races, about other societies, their beliefs and their desires -- and learning, also, what they might have that may be of value to me. And then attempting to strike a fair bargain to acquire it.
I sense that these are your ambitions too, Captain Reynolds.
Do let me know what you decide.
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| friends, new and old |
[05 Apr 2004|02:48am] |
I've met some of the most fascinating individuals these past few days, at Vir Cotto's party, at the Lunatic Cafe, and elsewhere ( pixie_viscera comes immediately to mind, and often; and if I'm not mistaken, lily_potter owes me the pleasure of a date).
But alas, I am terrible with names, so if you've dropped by looking for me, please be so kind as to leave me a message here, and I'll return it at my earliest convenience?
I look forward to a long and productive association with each of you. And if there's anything I can do to help you, don't hesitate to ask.
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| Dukat's personal log, 2-27-04-0600 |
[20 Feb 2004|05:55am] |
| [ |
mood |
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nostalgic |
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My aides have suggested I keep a journal, "for posterity's sake," they tell me. And though I believe the truth will attend to itself, as it unavoidably does, I'll admit I find the idea of routine thought-maintenance compelling. Additionally, anyone in power knows it can't hurt to have a paper trail, for when, down the road of life, blame must inevitably be laid.
That being said, computer, please begin a public log for me, authorization Dukat-880-blue, that any and all Cardiassian, Bajoran, or Federation people may consult my records at will. I do not now have, nor have I ever had, anything to hide.
*
Ah, where to begin? The writers of the history texts undoubtely expect some sort of long-winded admonishent of the Bajoran rebellion for so inconveniently interfering with my plans for reconstruction, but such bald criticism is so impersonal and never really tells the whole story, does it.
Asked if I blame the Bajoran resistance I have no choice but to answer no -- they were merely behaving as they were taught to behave, for my tutelage can only be expected to reform them so far, in such a short time.
Indeed I miss the convenience of being able to supervise my flock from Terok Nor, but my love for the Bajoran people, and my most sincere wish for their rehabilitation has not ended simply with the change of venue. And while my demotion to Gul has left my hands perhaps more tied than I should like, I have no doubt that the Cardassian government will restore me my Legate title in short order.
Starfleet's Captain Sisko is an intriguing creature as well, and a decent commanding officer in his own right. Soft, yes, but he, like the Bajorans, is a product of breeding and can't rightfully be blamed for his sensitivities.
Ah, yes, this is an exciting time to be a Cardassian. I think perhaps a trip to the old Terok Nor stomping grounds is in order, just a visit, mind you, sometime soon. And, I will admit, too much time has gone by since I last saw the dear col_kira_nerys, and these sore eyes could use the sight of her.
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