by S. D. Perry
“Because if there’s something causing you to forget who commands this station, I’m quite certain I can find someone else to do your job.”
The corporal swallowed visibly. “That won’t be necessary, sir!”
She let him suffer under her scrutiny for nearly a full minute more before she spoke again, her voice closer to normal. “Carry on.”
“Yes, sir! Thank you, Colonel.” The corporal turned on his heel and hurried off.
Damn Yevir and the Vedek Assembly anyway, she thought, resuming her stroll in the other direction. Kira’s banishment from the Bajoran spiritual community had effectively made her a pariah among many of the faithful, even those who served under her. She still had all the authority of a colonel in the Militia, her orders obeyed and her command unquestioned…but her bond to the people was gone. Not one of them spoke to her when not on duty, and all of them avoided eye contact unless necessary. And civilians made no pretense at all of hiding their disdain, nor vedeks and monks their open scorn. Even Vedek Capril could no longer bring himself to look upon her. To him, to all of them, she was Attainted.
Except Ro, she thought. Ro, who, while faithless, seemed to understand better than anyone what being Attainted had done to Kira, although she freely admitted she couldn’t understand why the colonel had accepted Yevir’s judgment. Kira wasn’t surprised. Ro was an outsider to their people by choice, her contrariness and defiance of Bajoran faith something to be worn like a badge of honor, like her improperly worn earring.
But Kira wasn’t Ro. She couldn’t defy the Vedek Assembly’s judgment of her, even though she knew the actions that led to it had been the right ones to take, and proven so. To Kira, being part of a community of faith meant being true to it, even if that same community cast her out. She would accept its judgment; she would put her earring away and stay out of the shrines, she would close her books of prophecy and stay away from the Orbs.
Yevir can take it all away, and I’ll accept it…because I still have my faith.
“Evening, Colonel.”
Kira looked up and saw another member of Ro’s security staff patrolling the level-two balcony. Even in the gloom, Kira recognized the man. He was Sergeant Shul Torem, one of the first men Odo had taken on after the occupation. A gruff, solitary man, Shul always seemed happiest working the late hours, when few people walked the Promenade. Odo had always spoken highly of him, mostly, she had suspected, because Shul hadn’t given a damn whether Odo liked him or not. She stopped and smiled. “Good evening, Shul.”
Shul leaned on the railing and nodded. “Thought that was you I heard.”
Kira laughed. “How could you tell?”
Shul smiled back. “Sorry about Corporal Hava back there. I’ll give him a stern talking-to.”
Kira nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Quiet tonight, otherwise?”
“When they’re not down there bangin’ away on whatever it is they’re bangin’ on.”
The corner of Kira’s mouth crooked up. So, it’s not just me after all, she thought. She said, “They should be done soon. Then we’ll be busy again.”
The watchman shrugged. “It could stay this way from the start of one week to the end of the next and that would be all right with me. Fewer people, fewer problems.”
Can’t argue with that. “If you feel that way, why don’t you stay down on Bajor? I’m sure there are lots of places you could work where you wouldn’t have to see…well, anyone. A farm, for instance.”
Shul turned his head from side to side, stretching his neck, apparently trying to restore circulation to tired muscles. “I’ve done my share of farming, thanks. Besides, Colonel, if I lived down there, I’d always have to be travelin’ back and forth to see the old woman and I’m not really much of one for spaceflight.”
“The old woman?”
“My wife.”
“Oh,” Kira said. “You’re married?” She didn’t mean it to come out as a question, but there was no concealing she was surprised. Shul didn’t seem like the marrying sort.
“Thirty-two years,” Shul said. “Last month.”
“Oh,” Kira said. “Well, congratulations.”
He shrugged again. “Doesn’t take much skill to stay married. Just some patience and the common sense to know when to shut up and listen.”
Kira laughed, delighted. “I’ll have to remember that. So your wife works here on the station? What does she do?”
Shul seemed surprised by the question. “She’s over at the shrine, Colonel. You know her: Aba. Cleans up after the services, keeps the candles lit. Cooks breakfast and lunch for the vedeks.”
“Sure,” Kira said, picturing a red-faced, jolly woman. “I know her.” She held her hand up to the height of her own nose. “About this tall. Laughs a lot.”
“That’s her,” Shul said, nodding, practically smiling.
Kira was having trouble imagining these two people together. As she recalled, Aba would typically talk a blue streak to anyone who came within striking range, though on the couple of occasions when she had been sucked in, Kira had realized that Aba wasn’t so much speaking to her as continuing a conversational thread that had unraveled when her last victim had moved out of range. “Well,” Kira said, “please give her my regards when you see her.”
Shul nodded, but there was something about the way his face didn’t move that made it clear he wouldn’t be passing along Kira’s greeting. Aba was one of the faithful.
“Well, good evening then,” Kira said, and made as if to continue her walk. Before she moved three paces, she turned and looked up again and was not at all surprised to see that Shul had not moved from the spot by the railing. “You know that I’ve been Attainted?” she asked flatly.
Shul nodded, then seemed to decide that wasn’t enough and said, “Yes, Colonel.”
“Aba wouldn’t like it if she knew you were talking to me.”
“Well,” Shul said, “I won’t mention it to her if you don’t.”
“But it doesn’t bother you?”
He frowned. “Bother me? Course it bothers me. Seems that vedeks sometimes use an awfully big stick to try to keep people in line. Doesn’t seem very prudent to me. When I was a boy, I used to help take care of a herd of batos. You know batos? Big, smelly creatures, you know?”
Kira nodded. “Sure. I know batos.”
“They’re the kinda animals that you have to poke along to keep ’em moving. I found out something funny about ’em when I was around seven. If you hit them too hard, they seem to sort of wake up, like they’re not so much dumb as they’re thinking about something else and weren’t really paying attention to you. That’s when you’re in a lot of trouble, you know?”
Kira nodded again, wondering where this was going.
“I don’t think too many vedeks have herded batos, Colonel. In my opinion, what they did to you was pretty much the same thing as hitting a batos too hard. Maybe not hard enough to wake it up, make it stop thinking about whatever else was on its mind, but almost. You understand what I mean?”
Smiling, grateful in a manner she scarcely understood herself, Kira said, “Yes, I think I do. Thank you, Shul. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s mine, Colonel. Oh…the word around the station is that you heard from the constable not too long ago. Is that right?”
Odo’s message, given her by Taran’atar. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I did, Shul.”
“If you don’t mind my asking…is he well?”
“I think so.”
“If you see him again…please say hello for me.”
Kira smiled. “Sure thing.”
Shul nodded once more and went about his business.
Kira went on, thinking she might drop in at Quark’s, when her combadge signaled. “Ops to Colonel Kira.”
Doesn’t anyone see the “Closed for repairs” sign? She tapped her badge. “Go ahead, Shar.”
Shar said, “I have First Minister Shakaar on subspace, waiting to speak with you, Colonel.”
<
br /> Kira closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. When Shakaar hadn’t contacted her immediately after the Dominion and Avatar crises had been resolved, she knew it was a bad sign. That the first minister had been touring key Federation planets on Bajor’s behalf for the last month certainly explained it, up to a point…but not completely. The more time that went by without contact from him, the more she knew she’d regret his call when it finally came.
Shar’s exact choice of words bore out her expectations. Shakaar wasn’t “asking to speak with you,” or even “requesting the pleasure of speaking with you,” but “waiting to speak with you.” Three years certainly have changed a lot of things, haven’t they, Edon? she thought, remembering the days when a call from Shakaar would have created a thrill of excitement and not a wave of anxiety.
“Route the call to my office,” Kira said. “Advise him that with the turbo-lifts offline, it’ll take me a few minutes to get there.”
“Yes, Colonel. Shar out.”
Kira reached her office in just over a minute, some of her tension pleasantly released by her rapid ascent up the emergency stairs. She sat down behind her desk and immediately keyed open the standby channel. “First Minister,” she said, trying to sound accommodating. “Thank you for waiting. My apologies, but we’re experiencing some technical difficulties until the station’s new core is online.”
Shakaar looked up from a padd that he’d been studying while waiting for her. Judging from the furnishings she could see behind him, Kira guessed he was calling from his ship of state, the Li Nalas. “Hello, Nerys,” he said, ignoring her use of his title. “Yes, I know all about your core. I’ve been receiving regular reports from my staff on Bajor.” He picked up another padd and glanced at it. “By the way, that young officer who put me through…Ensign ch’Thane, was it?”
“That’s right.”
“Ah,” Shakaar said. He made a note, then looked up again. “I met some Andorians while I was at the Federation Council. Interesting people. Very…political. I think your officer may be related to their senior representative.”
That’s old news, Kira thought. Word of Shar’s parentage had already gotten around the station, as did his apparent unease with having it brought up.
“I’m on my way back to Bajor even as we speak,” Shakaar went on.
“That’s good news, sir,” Kira said, wondering when Shakaar was going to get to the point. “I trust your tour went well.”
“I think I made a good case to have Bajor’s application for Federation membership revisited. We should hopefully know something in the coming days. Although between you and me, all this politicking gives me a headache.”
Kira smiled despite herself. She knew Shakaar would much rather be tilling earth than giving speeches and attending diplomatic functions.
“And, speaking of politics, how is the Jem’Hadar ambassador?”
Ambassador? Kira thought, but decided this wasn’t the right time to explain what was wrong with that title. “He’s fine, First Minister.” I just sent him on a secret mission that he may not survive, but otherwise, he’s fine.
“What’s he like?”
Kira was taken off guard by the question. “He’s…old. At least, by Jem’Hadar standards. I suppose you could even say that he’s wise after a fashion.” That sounds good, she decided, then surprised herself by feeling as if it might also be true.
“Well,” Shakaar said, “perhaps I’ll get to meet him before too long.”
Kira felt the tension returning, wondering how much longer they were going to engage in chitchat before he came out and told her what he wanted. She knew Shakaar well enough to know that he wanted her off-balance before striking.
“So,” Shakaar said, “the situation with Vedek Yevir went badly, don’t you think?”
Ah, Kira thought. Here we go. She said, “I suppose that depends upon your point of view.”
“Nerys,” Shakaar said, his voice warming with sympathy. “This is me, Edon. You don’t need to play these games with me.”
Oh, but you can play games with me? “It’s my problem, First Minister. I’ll deal with it.”
“I’m afraid I disagree, Nerys. This isn’t just your problem. This will affect how every Bajoran on and off the station will deal with you in the future.”
Not every Bajoran, Kira reminded herself, thinking of Ro and Shul. “I think I’ve earned the right to work this out for myself, First Minister,” Kira said.
“Earned?” Shakaar asked, his voice rising sharply and, Kira thought, somewhat artificially. “This has nothing to do with what you’ve earned, Colonel. This has to do with what you owe. This is about what you should be doing to bring the continuing chaos on Deep Space 9 back under some kind of control.”
Chaos? Kira thought, wondering who might be writing the reports Shakaar had been reading. “First Minister,” Kira said, struggling to remain calm. “My station was attacked two weeks ago by rogue Jem’Hadar who managed to destroy a Nebula-class starship and sabotage the station’s power core. Since then, we’ve spent twenty-six hours a day, every day, working to restore the station to full operation. And, against all hope, I think we may have found a solution—”
“This attack, Colonel,” Shakaar interrupted, consulting his padd. “Isn’t it true that during it your first officer, close to seventy station personnel and residents, and over nine hundred crew members aboard the U.S.S. Aldebaran were killed, due in large part to your allowing your upgrade schedule to fall behind, leaving DS9 vulnerable?”
“We were understaffed and inadequately protected. Neither Starfleet nor the Militia took my complaints seriously—”
“—And afterward, no fewer than five Jem’Hadar soldiers successfully infiltrated the station. Correct?”
“Jem’Hadar are difficult to detect while shrouded—”
“—But not impossible. And you had just been attacked by them. Surely infiltration was foreseeable?”
“Their ships were all destroyed, even the one that tried to help us. There was too much damage to our—”
“And just prior to the attack, a prylar was murdered on the Promenade.”
“She was assassinated—”
“—After which, your people discovered and withheld a priceless historical document containing, at minimum, potentially explosive information—”
“—evidence in my security officer’s investigation of the murder—”
“—which you uploaded to the Bajoran comnet on your own authority—”
“—because the Vedek Assembly was acting to suppress—”
“—And meanwhile, the one Jem’Hadar you detected successfully escaped custody and sabotaged the fusion reactors. And your solution was to eject your entire lower core, a decision which led directly to the station’s current woes. Am I up to speed, Colonel?”
Part of Kira wanted desperately to slug Shakaar right through the screen. “Your information seems decidedly one-sided, First Minister,” she said coldly. “Tell me, those reports you’ve been getting from your staff, were any of them by me, or anyone else from DS9 who actually witnessed those events? If not, may I respectfully request that you, your ministers, and the Vedek Assembly all just keep your comments to yourself.”
Shakaar wasn’t even slightly impressed or intimidated. “Do you understand now why this isn’t just your problem, Nerys?” he asked gently. “You’re right about the reports. They are one-sided. And not one report from the station in the last two weeks has found its way to me. Do you think I’m an idiot that I don’t see that? I’m trying to show you what a dangerous situation you’ve gotten yourself into. You’ve made enemies, Nerys, in the Vedek Assembly, in the Militia, and inside my own government. Enemies who will keep doing whatever they can to destroy you, especially now that you’ve been…”
“Attainted,” Kira finished quietly, when it was clear that Shakaar could not. “You can say it, First Minister. I’ve been Attainted.” It shocked her to see Shakaar hesitate like that. To some extent, ev
en he thought she’d become a pariah.
Shakaar took a deep breath, then asked the Question Direct. “Do you feel that you’re still capable of commanding the station, Colonel? Not your station, but the station. The Bajoran people’s station?”
“Yes, First Minister,” she said. “I believe I’m still capable.”
“Because,” Shakaar continued, “I spoke with an admiral at Starfleet Command who seemed to think there was a captain available who might be the perfect candidate for such a posting. He made a good case for why it might be a good idea to return the station to its previous command structure…”
“First Minister,” Kira said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine . Everything is under control. Please don’t expend any more energy worrying about us.”
“I’m not ‘worried,’ Colonel. I’m planning for the future. My job is to be thinking ahead, to see what Bajor might need over the course of the next year, the next five years, the next millennium. Bajor needs Deep Space 9, Colonel. Bajor might not need you in command of Deep Space 9. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, First Minister.”
“I would rather keep you there, Nerys,” Shakaar said, once again switching tones, switching tactics. “You know the job. You know the people, but you could stand to learn some lessons in diplomacy. As I said, you have a tendency to make powerful enemies—”
“Are you one of them, Edon?”
Shakaar looked stung. “I don’t know if you realize how hard some people are working against you, Nerys,” he said finally. “This is just the beginning. I can ignore it up to a point, hope that it’ll eventually die down and wither on its own. But if it doesn’t…”
“If it doesn’t?” Kira demanded.
“This a very delicate time for me, politically, and for all of Bajor. Everything we’ve been working toward is coming to a head, but it won’t take much to make it all unravel, especially if your enemies decide I’m on your side. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” Kira said. “I think I do.” You want my resignation. That would solve this particular political dilemma quite neatly, wouldn’t it? Well, I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Edon.
