Kira watched him go. She waited a moment after the doors had closed behind him, and then said, “Kira to ops.”
“Ops, Selzner here.”
“Ensign, First Minister Shakaar will be addressing the Bajoran people on the comnet in a couple of minutes,” Kira said. “I’d like you to patch it into the station’s comm system.”
“Yes, Colonel,”Selzner said. “I’ll tie us in right now.”
“Thank you. Kira out.” She stood up and walked over to the replicator. “Tarkalean tea,” she ordered. “One-half measure of kava.”She preferred her tea not nearly as sweet as she liked her raktajino.The replicator hummed, and a cup of the hot beverage materialized on the pad. She picked it up and walked over to a companel set into the bulkhead. She activated it with a touch, and saw the elliptical symbol of Bajor hovering in the center of the screen. She backed up and sat down on a padded seat along the wall, then sipped at her tea and waited. Shortly, the companel blinked, and the image of Shakaar appeared on the display. He wore a formal, dark brown Bajoran jacket over a white shirt. He was seated, with his forearms at right angles to his body and resting on the table in front of him. A padd sat between his arms. Kira recognized the wardroom behind him.
“Good day to all of Bajor,”he began. “For years now, since the first days after the end of the Occupation, many of us have discussed the possibility of our people joining the United Federation of Planets. Opinion has long been divided on the matter, and likely always will be, but in recent years, a large majority of Bajorans have come to favor aligning with the member worlds of the Federation, and becoming a part of a larger community. As we embark…”
How far he’s come,Kira thought, her attention wandering from the speech. Shakaar had never lacked for confidence or charm, but he had never cared much for politics, even after being elected first minister. Only his love for their people, and his sense of responsibility to them, had caused him to seek his office, and then to sustain it. For a long time, though, Shakaar had practiced his public service in a homespun sort of way, and although he had not entirely lost that simplicity and lack of pretension, Kira had seen a sophistication grow in him—particularly in the last few months, as he had been dealing with the Federation.
“…three years ago, the Federation approved Bajor’s petition for membership, but at the counsel of the Emissary of the Prophets…”
Kira sipped at her tea again, thinking back to her days in the resistance. Shakaar had always been such a strong and effective leader, never wavering from his purpose to free their people. As a girl, Kira had been awestruck by the man, and as a young woman, absolutely dedicated to his command. Only later, as an adult, when she and Shakaar had become romantically involved, had she truly learned how sensitive and solitary he actually was, and how much of a price he had paid—and continued to pay—by choosing to lead their people.
“…spent time touring Federation worlds. I have spoken with their representatives, as well as…”
Kira’s romantic relationship with Shakaar had ended abruptly, but amicably. It had been later that they had drifted apart, the gulf seeming to widen especially in the last few months. Although Kira still loved Odo—since he had left, she had not seen anybody, and she did not know when, or even if, she ever would—she also missed her closeness with Shakaar. Not their romance, but the closeness that had come from having a shared history and shared values. When they had talked alone in his guest quarters yesterday, the distance between them had been apparent to her, though the conversation had gone perfectly well. And since it had not been Kira’s inclination to diminish their friendship, it must have been Shakaar’s choice. And sometimes that saddened her.
“…and on behalf of the Bajoran people, I officially requested the renewal of our petition for membership in the Federation. Today, here aboard Deep Space 9, a summit commenced to consider that petition. Attending are ambassadors from…”
Kira turned her full attention to Shakaar, now that he had come to the official announcement of the summit. She wondered what the reaction on Bajor would be, and just how long it would take the Federation representatives on the station to come to a decision.
“There have been many struggles for our people in the past,”Shakaar continued, “but now we look to a bright, positive, and peaceful future.”He paused, seemingly to underscore the words he was about to say. “Today,”he went on, “I am happy to report to you that Bajor’s petition for membership in the Federation has been approved.”
Kira was startled. She had believed that there was a good chance that this would happen within the next few months, but for it to happen so soon…
“The summit will continue, as there are many issues still to be resolved, but the official signing ceremony will take place six weeks from today. At that time, Bajor will become a member of the United Federation of Planets.”
Shakaar continued speaking, but Kira heard nothing more. She felt dazed by the rapidity with which this had happened.
The quaver of the companel drew her eyes back to the display, and she saw that Shakaar had finished his speech, and that his image had been replaced by a Bajoran icon. She put her teacup down on the arm of the seat, then stood up and paced over to the companel. She switched it off. Still feeling stunned, she peered aimlessly around her office. Her gaze came to rest on the bookshelf, and then to the large, red tome there. She walked to the shelf and pulled When the Prophets Crieddown.
“‘Anew will shine the twilight of their destiny,’” Kira quoted the ancient prophecy. “Not the end of the day,” she whispered. “The beginning.” Holding the sacred text flat in one hand, she ran her fingers across the faded gilt letters of the title inlaid into the cover.
Alone in her office, Kira smiled, knowing that a new dawn had come to the people of Bajor.
Part Four
A Newer World
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends.
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
—ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON,
“ULYSSES”
64
“Do you have regrets?”
Prynn raised her head and peered over the open top of the survival locker at Shar, not surprised by his question. Her own thoughts had turned to many subjects over the last hour or two, and regret had certainly been among them. Still, even considering the uncertainty of their situation, she did not wish to discuss such matters right now. What’s the point?she thought. Instead, shrugging and attempting to change the subject, she said, “Well, I’ve never been surfing on the Canopus Planet.”
Shar smiled, but in a way Prynn had noticed before, like a mask with no emotion behind it; she had always taken the empty expression to be his form of a polite response. She had wanted him to ask her what surfingwas, but he would not let go of his question to her. “I think you know what I mean,” he said.