Amity, the Federation, and Moral Cowardice

Posted on 240205.16 by Jo Marshall in Editorial

By Kiyaini Ri’zella.

Now, three years after the Amity Expo—an event meant to showcase the Federation’s benevolence and build bridges with its neighbors in the Delta Quadrant—it seems only fitting to reflect on how well-intentioned diplomacy collided with the unhealed scars of history.

At the time, the Expo promised to be a grand celebration of culture, knowledge, and cooperation. Or, at least, that was the Federation’s intent—the face it wanted to show the galaxy, the one it believes itself to be. And, to be fair, many of us who have witnessed the Federation’s small-scale failings still supported efforts like these. After all, for the Federation to become better, it must work at it. The dream of the Federation is a noble one, but it often comes draped in layers of grandstanding.

(Though, even now, I’ll admit: I was looking forward to the Expo’s races—grandstanding is rare in the thick of competition, though tempers flare plenty.)

The Kathesis Pact and the Ghosts of History

Before we revisit what happened, we must remember the players.

The Kathesis Pact, a regional power bordering the Amity system on three sides, emerged about thirty years ago as an interstellar government. It evolved from the Kathesis Wardens, a defensive coalition that banded together nearly five centuries ago following a Viidian attack that devastated the Nygean colony world of Kathesis. In retaliation, the Mislenites—another species within the Pact—destroyed the Viidian ships involved. Over the centuries, this coalition formalized into the Pact, waging preemptive raids into Viidian space for centuries as deterrence, until the Viidian Star Union declared the Phage cured twenty years ago and withdrew within its borders.

The Viidians, as some may recall from the grim accounts of the USS Voyager, once preyed on their neighbors, harvesting organs from the living to sustain their diseased bodies. Even after Voyager provided them with cloning technology to grow organs—a gift of hope—they continued their depredations for years.

Although the Phage’s end signaled a new era for the Viidians, to this day, no formal criminal tribunals, reparations, or accountability measures have been recorded. Just apologies. Regret. Words.

One might argue the wounds in the Delta Quadrant are still too raw. After all, how long did it take for Federation-Dominion relations to thaw after the war? And speaking as one of the few survivors of the Salinthis Freeport massacre, I admit I remain unable to forgive the Fenris Rangers for abandoning us—though I now understand why they did, and why the Federation stood aside and let an entire world wither away. Forgiveness cannot be demanded by perpetrators; it must be granted by the victims.

The Federation’s Blind Spot

Three years ago, as the Amity Expo unfolded, the Kathesis Pact released a condemnation of the Federation’s inclusion of the Viidians in the event. Their statement pulled no punches:

“We cannot permit a species that has yet to face true justice for the billions they have slain in an attempt to perpetuate their own lives, one that has twisted attempts to help into more depredations. More so, we cannot allow any species or polity to become complicit in their attempts to rehabilitate themselves while not properly addressing their past.”

The Pact threatened to blockade the Amity system—a serious escalation. At the time, I questioned their logistics: how does one interdict Quantum Slipstream Drive transports? But clearly, the risk was worth it to them.

I wasn’t surprised that the Federation invited the Viidians. This is, after all, a navy that once colluded with the Son’a during the Dominion War, a navy that often avoids confronting its own militaristic shortcomings. With the Diplomatic Corps steering Amity Station, Expo decisions seemed shaped more by the desire to avoid conflict than to confront it.

But then came the moment that shifted this from naive diplomacy to something more troubling: the USS Independence-B, attached to Amity, quietly departed the station—on a heading straight toward Viidian space.

Cowardice or Carelessness?

At the time, I speculated that the Federation intended to warn the Viidians—a move that would reek of moral cowardice. If the Federation believes a thing is wrong, why not hold others accountable for it? Bajorans, more than most, understand this flaw in the Federation’s approach: the reluctance to get their hands dirty in the name of morality. “We tried nothing, and we’re all out of ideas” is a phrase many of us have come to associate with Starfleet’s brand of leadership.

But what if the Independence-B didn’t leave to warn the Viidians? What if they weren’t aware of the Kathesis backlash at all? That possibility chilled me more. It suggested a failure not just of courage but of diligence. That the Federation could invite known murderers to the table without properly assessing the political fallout—and without even alerting their own officers to potential security risks.

Indeed, the local infonet was abuzz with surprise, even outrage, including among Starfleet officers. This wasn’t a carefully mediated diplomatic process—it was a misstep that revealed the Federation’s blind spot.

Three Years Later: Lessons Learned?

In the three years since the Expo, little has changed. No formal reconciliation between the Viidians and the Kathesis Pact. No tribunal, no reparations. The Federation, for all its talk of moral leadership, remains hesitant to hold others accountable—or to hold itself accountable for what it fails to confront.

I still dream that one day, Federation leadership will find the courage to do the hard work of standing for its ideals. To confront marauders. To intervene when species teeter on the brink. To defend the vulnerable. Or, at the very least, to know what they’re stepping into before leaping blindly forward.

Until then, the Federation remains, in many ways, the galaxy’s greatest hope—and its greatest disappointment.