The Bitter Taste of Bajor

Damar laid on the lower bunk and stretched with a yawn. It had been a long day, full of training exercises. The instructors seemed to pick on him all day. At least it was finally over. He sometimes wondered why he joined the military, other than to please his father. He thought of his father stationed on Pollak V, where his mother was the head of the science research center there.
The light was dim in the bunkroom, but there was just enough light to gaze mindlessly at the crossing pattern created by the metal slats of his friend's bunk above.

"Zulan," Damar called softly, shoving his fist into the diamond shaped space formed between two support slats and punching through to thump the mattress above.
The mattress rustled and Zulan's blue eyes peered over the edge of the bunk to Damar below. "You know I hate it when you do that."
"If you slept on the bottom bunk and let me sleep on the top one," Damar said mildly, "then I wouldn't be able to do that.
"Nice try, Damar, but you're still stuck with that bottom bunk," Zulan shot back, a grin splitting his face.

Zulan thought of Damar lying on his bunk below, not quite sure why his friend had joined the military. Damar was a typical Cardassian and preferred to have things his own way but, unlike most, never took anything too seriously and was always joking around. He drove his instructors crazy because he was very smart but rarely applied himself with more than half an effort. He had no doubt that Damar would be a loyal citizen and always follow any orders he was given, but he didn't seem to have a burning desire like most of the other boys here in training to rise up along the ranks and have his own command.
Damar was a big, strong, imposing young man. Damar was taller than his own merely average height and also just a littler heavier, and he hadn't even completely finished maturing yet. He watched the muscles ripple across his chest when he removed his shirt to change and felt a pang of envy, knowing that no matter how hard he tried, his smaller body would never look the way Damar's did without any effort.
Despite being built like a lumbering gettle ready to plow the field on one of their primitive farming colonies like Kraus IV, Damar's heart didn't seem to be in the military. He feared Damar's inquisitive mind would have been better off if he had become an engineer or a scientist like his mother. He believed Damar had chosen the military only to please his father. The lights went out in the barracks and he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Zulan tumbled out of his bunk, his feet slapping the cold stone floor. He bumped his friend on the way down, getting tangled in Damar's uniform as he was poised to slip into it. Damar straightened up, threw his outfit on his bunk, then gave Zulan a shove that pushed him back a couple paces. Zulan eyed his opponent for a moment, then lowered his head and charged. Damar went down with a grunt, slamming into the floor. The two tangled together and rolled across the floor to the opposite row of bunks. The other recruits shouted encouragement to Zulan, but could already see that Damar's larger size gave him the advantage.

Damar pinned Zulan to the ground and his deep laugh rumbled in his chest when Zulan finally conceded his defeat. They each had an arm around the other's shoulder and were on their way back to the bunks when the morning alarm sounded. The looked up in horror to the end of the room to see their instructor lounging there, lazily leaning against the wall watching as if he'd been there for a while. Everyone scrambled to form a double line the length of the room while Damar and Zulan rushed to their bunks to finish dressing.
"I want to see everyone in formation," he growled with a glare in Damar's direction, "right now. That includes you and Zulan." They reluctantly dropped their uniforms and stepped into line with the others, shivering in their underwear in the cool morning air.
"Is there a problem here, recruits?" the instructor asked deceptively soft.
"No, sir," they replied in unison, snapping to attention.
The instructor glanced down, taking in their bare feet and missing uniforms. "It looks like you boys forgot something this morning." He stepped closer, nose to nose with Zulan but didn't say a word. Then he took a step to the right and did the same to Damar, his gaze boring into his eyes. He finally stepped back and pointed to the floor. "Both of you drop to the floor and give me a hundred pushups."
"Yes, sir," they said and immediately dropped to the ice cold floor. The rest of the recruits enthusiastically kept count for them. Damar shot the closest one a dark look promising retribution, which the instructor caught. He stepped closer and placed his foot in the middle of Damar's back, pushing his stomach flat to the icy floor.
"Let this be a lesson to both of you. Never get caught with your pants down or," he said looking down with a grin, "without your pants at all, for that matter. It tends to get you into all kinds of trouble, not to mention being cold and drafty." He lifted his foot so Damar could resume. "You two better hurry, because the rest of your class can't eat their morning rations until you've finished."
They eventually finished and the instructor dismissed the group. "I think the two of you should finally get dressed" he recommended, turning and walking away so they wouldn't see his amusement at their mischief. They threw on their clothes and then rushed out the barrack's door on their way to the kitchens.
"I can't believe you got us into trouble like that," Zulan growled.
"Me?" Damar exclaimed, grabbing Zulan in a headlock. "You were the one that started it."
"All right, I give," Zulan said laughing. "We better get something to eat while there's still some left."
Damar threw him to the ground, a grin splitting his own face, then held out his hand to help him up. "At least he only gave us pushups."
"Only? Those were damn cold pushups," Zulan said, his body giving a little shake as a chill ran through him in remembrance.
"Just think," Damar said, "he could've had us run laps around the compound or something instead." He paused before adding, "In our underwear."
"Shhh!" Zulan snapped, looking around cautiously. "Don't give him any brilliant ideas for next time" Zulan said, then wrenched open the door and hurried inside.

Later that afternoon, their class was disrupted by the beep of an incoming call. Everyone turned to see what the news was. "Damar," the instructor in charge said, "report to the main office."
Damar started in surprise. What in all of Cardassia could he possibly have done wrong now? Could they tell he followed orders but his heart really wasn't in it? Perhaps his instructors felt he didn't measure up and were throwing him out of the academy. He swallowed hard. That would be a terrible disgrace to his family. He had to do better.
He knocked on the old fashioned wood door and was told to enter. His sweaty hand slipped on the handle so he wiped it on the front of his pants leg and tried again. The head instructor looked up and Damar stopped short when he saw the fury etched on his face.
"Have I done something wrong?" Damar asked, ashamed to hear the tremor in his voice.
He stands up and Damar takes an unconscious step backward before realizing it and stopping where he is, his back resting against the door.
The instructor walks to the edge of his desk and rests his thigh on it, gesturing for Damar to come closer. Practically dragging his feet, Damar advances and stands before him in front of the desk. The instructor stares at Damar for a long moment and he can feel the sweat begin to form on his upper lip.
"I have some bad news for you, Damar," he says at last.

Damar's breath catches in his throat. They're throwing him out. He knew it! He wasn't worthy enough to be a military officer like his father. He shook his head to clear it, realizing the instructor was still speaking.
"...something to show you," he said, turning to the viewscreen. "Computer, replay last transmission."
"Glinn Subat," the woman said looking up from the data PADD in her hand, "our records show you have a student by the name of Damar enrolled at the Military Academy."
"Yes," he replied cautiously, "that is correct."
"Please notify him that the Bajorans have attacked Pollak V, destroying the research outpost there."
Damar's heart stopped beating and time slowed to a crawl. The woman's lips still moved but he didn't hear what she said, only bits and pieces registered in his shocked mind. "Rebel forces...surprise attack...not prepared...severe casualties..." Damar broke his gaze from the screen and looked to his head instructor in horror. "My family?" he whispered but saw the answer written in his eyes. The pity.
"No!" Damar cried out, raising his hand as if to ward off the words he knew would follow.
"I'm afraid the outpost where your parents were assigned was completely destroyed," he paused to let the news sink in. "I'm sorry, Damar," he said softly, leading the young man to a chair. Damar sank into it, running an unsteady hand through his hair.

He somehow made his way back to his bunk. He didn't remember walking from the office at all, but that is where Zulan found him hours later.
"Where have you been, Damar?" he asked, jumping onto the foot of the bed and sitting cross legged. "What did the mighty great Glinn want?" he joked.
Arms crossed behind his head, Damar just stared aimlessly at the criss cross pattern of the bunk above without answering.
"What's wrong?" Zulan asked, more seriously this time.
"The research outpost on Pollak V was destroyed by Bajoran dissidents today," he said, so softly that Zulan had to strain to hear.
"Are your parents...?"
"They're dead," he replied dully.
"I'm sorry, Damar."
Damar exhaled a shaky breath and then said, "I don't understand why the Bajorans would do such a thing. They're so much better off under our protection," he said, the confusion clear in his voice. He then rolled onto his side with his back facing the room and tried to fall asleep.

This seemed to be the catalyst that Damar needed to finally take his studies seriously. He applied himself and excelled in all his classes and training exercises.
Zulan worried about Damar as they neared the end of their training. Damar did and said all the right things but seemed to be in a fog, just going through the motions. Hell, he hadn't even wrestled with him once since he got the bad news.
"Come on, Damar," Zulan said, grabbing hold of his arm, "let's go get some target practice."
"No thanks," he said, shrugging out of his hold.
Zulan stopped and looked him square in the eye. I know that you're an orphan now but you're 17 seasons old, not some young boy who can't take care of himself. Enough wallowing in self pity." He says softly, "There was nothing you could have done. Who would have guessed that the Bajorans, of all people, would dare do such a thing?" He paused. "We have a two week break starting tomorrow. You're coming home with me to spend it with my family."
"I can't do that."
"Why not? I just invited you, didn't I? You got some big plans or something?" he snapped.
Damar toyed with his boot, wiping away an imaginary spot. Finally, he looked up and simply asked, "Why?"
Zulan sighed. "You remember our first day here?"
Damar turned to face him and smiled in remembrance. "You mean when Jutap and Rhikil tried to whip your sorry butt because you had gotten assigned one of the top bunks?"
"Yeah, and you stepped in and evened the odds. I know I'm smaller than most of the guys here, but I want to be an officer. I know I can be a good one. I think part of being a good officer is knowing how to choose the men around you." He glanced at his bunkmate. "You've been a good friend, Damar." Damar looked over in surprise. Zulan usually joked around about everything but he sounded serious now.

"My father is Gul Jasad of the Seventh Order. I will have him assign us both to one of his ships. There's no one I'd trust more at my back than you, Damar."

Damar's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't comment on Zulan's surprising statement. He finally grinned with a grateful nod. "You're a good friend, Zulan. Much better than I deserve."
"I just want someone I can beat wrestling," he said, slamming into him and knocking him to the floor.
"That'll be the day," he shot back as they rolled on the floor tangled together, both with wide grins on their faces.