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tower of light

April 2017

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lonely, nostalgic, gazing3

What the Cardassian Moon Saw (DS9 gen ficlet)

In emulation of Hans Christian Anderson, with admiration and love.
Written for sacred_20 prompt 16: reverent.

What the Cardassian Moon Saw
by Renata Lord (snowlight)
Gen ficlet for DS9 Series Finale: What You Leave Behind


"Last night," said the Cardassian Moon peeking through the half-open window, "I saw an elderly woman coming into the former Dominion Headquarters on Cardassia Prime. She was accompanied by one Elim Garak, one of the few survived leaders of the Great Rebellion. Mr. Garak, normally silver-tongued as the Minister of State in the post-Dominion government, was for once completely shrouded in silence.

"Under my soft lights, they walked through the empty corridors and austere archways, approaching at last the heart of the facility. The old woman stopped five steps outside the inner sanctum's heavy neutronium door and turned to look at the minister trailing behind her.

"'Was it here?'

"'Another half of a step to your left,' he replied.

"The old woman nodded once. She moved as he advised, and for a moment only stood there with downcast eyes, as if she wished to ascertain the solidness of the floor. At last she knelt down and caressed the tiles gently. Her wrinkled fingers did not make a single sound on the tarnished metal.

"'It's still stained with her blood.'

"The Minister said nothing, least of all that such a thing was impossible. An entire year had already passed since that day, and this facility no longer reeked of carnage and ruin. Though the structure itself stood unrepaired as a witness to Cardassia's greatest loss, its floor had long been cleaned of corpses and debris.

"As the myth tells it, during the last and darkest hours of the Dominian War, a band of vastly outnumbered and outgunned rebels stormed the Dominion Headquarters to free their beloved Union. They completely obliterated the Jem'Hadr and Breen guards, even as one by one they also fell. In a testament to the unbreakable will of the Cardassian people, enough of them survived to take the culprit alive and force the War's end.

"The myth also tells of the story of a young woman born and raised in Lakarian City who gave up a promising career in the sciences in order to advance in the military, and who turned the weapons on the Dominion pretenders when she realized that her childhood had been reduced to flames and dust. A gifted sharpshooter, she fell along with her sixth Jem'Hadr kill, four and half steps away from the door to her righteous vengeance.

"But as I am sure you know, the myth is bound to forget this part, of an elderly lady unable to shed tears of mourning because her only grandchild made nothing less than the ultimate sacrifice, for the grave of martyrs is adorned with everlasting glory. Every Cardassian schoolgirl now recites that name with reverence and pride, a name that shall be preserved in songs and poems for as long as this Union shall endure. Yet as she knelt there, she looked so unspeakably sad and mute that I kissed her on her ashen forehead. A year ago I had done the same for her granddaughter when that child breathed her last, still clutching her pistol—my beloved flowers of Cardassia!"




I almost forgot this was written in prose, it was so poetic.
This is beautiful, so poetic and heartbreaking. Thanks so much for posting!