"You know, I expected exactly this kind of reaction from someone in your position." McHogue shook his head slowly. "After all, you do represent not just the Federation's interests, but also its rather, shall we say, antiquated morals. And in my experience, there's nothing that Starfleet officers like better putting on their little uniforms and zipping around the galaxy to look down their noses at what other people do for a living."
"In your case, that's not difficult."
"Oh—" McHogue made a show of wincing. "Careful, Commander; remember, you're talking to a minister of the Bajoran government. But then again, if you want to dispense with all the diplomatic niceties, I can handle that." He leaned across the desk, jabbing a finger toward Sisko. "The Bajorans are not quite the fools that you and all the rest of the Federation take them to be. They didn't go for the economic development plan I presented them because they were suckers for a fast line. I gave them hard facts and figures, about just what kind of money they can expect to generate."
"The numbers add up," said General Aur. "That's why we put Mr. McHogue in charge of the Trade Ministry."
"Did he also tell you what the Federation's reaction to your business enterprise was most likely to be, and the effect that would have on your profits?"
"Fortunately, Commander, you're bound by Starfleet's own Prime Directive. You're forbidden to meddle with the internal affairs of a non-Federation world."
Sisko nodded. "That's true, of course. Bajor and any other world is free to go to hell in whatever particular handbasket it chooses. But if you believe that the Federation has no other courses of action available to it, then you're sadly mistaken. There's quite a bit that we can do to minimize the negative effects of such an enterprise as you're contemplating. The Federation can place an embargo on such a rogue world, effectively sealing it off from commerce with all other Federation members. That greatly diminishes the chances of economic success for anyone taking that route of total, unhindered personal anarchy. So much so that all the worlds that have tried it in the past eventually saw the light, and wound up abandoning that course, so as to reap the benefit achieving full Federation membership."
"Ah, yes, the embargo tactic." A sneer formed on McHogue's face. "If the Federation doesn't get what it wants, it has other ways of bullying others into line. It's really too bad that that tactic has been successful so many times in the past. Too bad for you, Commander—because it's created a blind spot for you about the situation here. The Federation's embargoes have worked before because those worlds you employed them against had nothing else going for them except the behavior the Federation was so offended by; they had no other way of insuring that customers would come to their door for what they had to sell. But things are different here: Bajor has the wormhole. The Federation can't cut Bajor off, no matter how offensive or negative it might find our economic activities to be, without cutting itself off from the wormhole and the access to the Gamma Quadrant. And if the Federation should be so foolish as to be willing to pay that price, there are plenty of other political forces in the galaxy who are less prudish and more pragmatic than that. And they'd be happy to fill the vacuum created by the Federation's withdrawal and take advantage of the opportunities here. The Cardassians are still kicking themselves for giving up Bajor just before the wormhole was discovered. A Federation embargo would be perfect for letting them get back into the game as a significant force."
Sisko turned toward the general. "And is that how you see it? After spending your whole life fighting against Cardassians, you'd be willing to let them back into Bajoran affairs?"
"If it was on our terms, then yes." Aur's hardened gaze back at Sisko. "In a minute. I don't think you appreciate how desperate conditions are on Bajor. We're a broken, starving people, Commander; we have little left to us besides our hunger. If we have to climb back into bed with the devil to feed ourselves—to feed our children—then it's going to happen no matter what. I'm just trying to create a situation where we call the shots, and not Gul Dukat. Or you and the Federation."
"Do you really think your fellow Bajorans have a moral sense as flexible as yours, General? What happens to your new government when the people you lead find out that you've been making deals with their sworn enemies, the exploiters who raped their world in the first place? I imagine that their reaction will be disgust, and then a wrath that you won't be able to survive."
A thin smile formed on Aur's face. "Your estimation of my people is very flattering, Commander. But you speak of a finely principled disdain, and that's an expensive indulgence—and one that the Bajoran people cannot afford any longer. If Bajor should wind up wealthy from the indulging of other peoples' vices—and the Cardassians made it possible—I don't think anyone's going to complain too loudly." He leaned back in his chair. "Read your history books, Commander. Or just look around at your fellow Starfleet officers—you'll see that yesterday's enemy is often today's friend." The smile widened. "Why shouldn't Bajorans be as wise—and flexible—as you are?"
With evident pleasure, McHogue had listened to Aur's speech. "You see, Commander, I didn't have to make any sales pitch to the new Bajoran government; they're perfectly capable of seeing the advantages to a straightforward proposition—one that pays off now, rather than at some remote pie-in-the-sky time in the future. If then. So your big talk about an embargo doesn't scare us much. Quite frankly, I don't think the Federation would even have the nerve to try it. There's so many reasons why the various members of the Federation would want to continue dealing with Bajor—mainly to get access to the wormhole—that any embargo would be widely disregarded by them. As the general has pointed out, history can be very instructive; it shows that if you've got something people want, they'll find a way to do business with you. That's why black markets were invented. The Federation would find itself in the rather embarrassing position of turning a blind eye to violations of the embargo, or trying to enforce it with various sanctions against its own members. Do you think the Federation would really want to risk a split in its ranks? Though of course, there's always the military option; Starfleet could ring Bajor with battle cruisers, to try and prevent anyone coming in from outside. Would you like to be the one in charge of that operation, Commander?—especially when it would inevitably lead to a full-scale confrontation with the Cardassians. And Gul Dukat would love to have an opportunity to represent the Cardassians to the galaxy as the heroic defenders of the Bajorans' right to self-determination against the meddling Federation. Whatever the Cardassians didn't win in battle, they'd more than make up for on the field of public opinion. In some ways, that's a pity—I'm really afraid you'd come out looking like the villain of the story."
It was difficult to come up with a reply; the smugness apparent on McHogue's face, as he had delivered his spiel, had thrown a flaring spark upon the tinder of Sisko's anger. A few moments of glaring silence passed before he spoke. "If you've managed to convince the Bajorans that they could trust their interests to the Cardassians, then you're an even better salesman than I had previously thought."
Aur's voice was mild by comparison. "Diplomacy, Commander, is the art of arranging as many things as possible beforehand—and then pretending to be surprised afterward when things just happen to work out the way you want. Let's just say that the Severalty Front has been in touch with Gul Dukat for some time now—long before we were ready to take over the government. Agreements have been made, of which you have absolutely no awareness." Aur smiled. "It might almost be fair to say that we've all become business partners now."