There must be a place under the sun where hearts of olden glory grow young…

QonoS HoD-Daj

These last years, I feel as if I have been trapped in some kind of time warp. So many things have happened, seemingly all at once — battles, invasions, victories, losses, deaths — and yet, it’s almost as if no time has passed at all. 2409 was a year that we will never forget, it seemed to stretch into seasons beyond number.

But now, it is 2413. Though the Khitomer Accords are still shattered, the war with the Federation has all but ended. After the Undine involvement had been revealed, all it took was time for cooler heads in the Empire and the UFP to prevail, once personal agendas had been set aside and honor was satisfied.

The MhaQ’Beth is a fine vessel. In my younger days, never would I have imagined myself a General, nor in command of such a starship as a Vo’Quv class carrier. My crew, the ever-broadening “band of misfits” as Admiral D’Vak once called them, have served with honor. The High Command have tried to take MhaQ’Beth from me, but every offer of another, “better” or “more prestigious” command seems like a bribe, an attempt to get me away from where I can do most good, because my “honorable service” is nonetheless embarrassing to the politically-minded.

After all, I am still more scientist than warrior, even after so long. My crew and I seek the truth of things, and will not blindly follow self-aggrandizing orders of those who believe that perpetual war is the only path to glory. I hope for the renewal of our alliance with the Federation; we are stronger together than apart, and only a fool willfully blinds himself to that fact.

Recently, the High Council seems to have shifted the focus of their embarrassment from my person to my choice of crew. They may have been forced to grudgingly accept the ghot’e’ loD vIneH who became a general, but the rest of my people still have no place in the Empire. A Deferi half-breed, a Reman outcast, and a Jem’Hadar anomaly least of all. And so we are consigned to the hinterlands of space, and sent to play diplomat.

That is well. Out here, I feel as if I can do some good, and fight the real battles that the High Council refuses to acknowledge. We have more enemies than they know, and more allies than they will admit. And so we fight on, for the Empire, for the Quadrant, for our allies and for our honor. But most of all, for each other. Out here, the real war is about to begin.


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