“It’s the open hand,” she said.
“I see.” He moved across the room, away from her and over toward a replicator set into the far bulkhead. “May I get you something to drink, Colonel?” he asked. Looking back at her over his shoulder, he added, “To celebrate.”
Kira did not know what to say. She did not particularly want to share a drink with this man, but she also did not wish to give the impression that she was not pleased about Bajor’s acceptance into the Federation. Before she could formulate a response, Akaar spoke again.
“Colonel Kira,” he said, turning to face her directly, “did you think that my questions to you, and your answers, would prevent me from fostering Federation membership for Bajor?”
“‘Fostering’?” Kira echoed. She found the claim that Akaar had been a proponent for Bajor difficult to believe. But then, she had come here looking for answers from the admiral, wanting to identify and understand his motives. She said, “I will toast Bajor joining the Federation.”
Akaar nodded once, then turned toward the replicator. Instead of ordering something there, though, he picked up a short, bulbous bottle from a shelf. Kira watched as he pulled the stopper from the dark green bottle and poured a clear liquid into two glasses. He carried the glasses back across the room and offered her one. “This is grosz,”he told her. “From my native Capella.” Kira accepted the glass. Akaar held his up and said, “To Bajor joining the Federation.”
Kira lifted her glass, and saw that the drink was not perfectly clear, but had a purple tint. “To Bajor joining the Federation,” she echoed. Akaar moved his glass forward, touching it to Kira’s with a soft ring. He drank deeply, and she took a gulp herself. The drink fired her throat as it went down, leaving behind an acerbic taste as the burn faded. She breathed out loudly through her mouth. “That’s a powerful flavor,” she said.
“Perhaps I should have forewarned you,” Akaar said. “I understood that, as a rule, Bajorans liked ‘powerful flavors.’”
“I wasn’t complaining,” Kira said, and to support her declaration, she took another swallow. Again, she exhaled loudly. “Just offering an observation.”
“Observation noted,” Akaar said. Motioning toward the sitting area, he said, “Would you care to sit, Colonel?” Kira walked around a low table and sat on the sofa below the windows. The admiral’s cabin looked out, not on the station, but on open space. Akaar sat back down in the chair he had been in when Kira had arrived. He drank even more of his grosz,and then said, “Am I correct in saying that you believe I have been attempting to judge Bajoran society through you?”
“Haven’t you been?” Kira asked, trying to keep any antagonism out of her tone, if not out of her words.
Akaar reached forward and put his almost empty glass down on the table. “No, Colonel, I have not been,” he said. “What I have been doing is attempting to judge youthrough your feelings about your people and through your relationship with them.”
“You’ve been judging me?”Kira asked, not sure that the revelation actually made her feel any more comfortable with the admiral.
“I believe that how a person sees their society, how they fit in and do not fit in, how they deal with internal strife, can say a great deal about them.” Kira supposed that there must be some truth to that, but—
“The Attainder the Vedek Assembly imposed upon me…” She let her words trail off.
“The Attainder is the result of how some Bajorans view you,” Akaar said. “Or perhaps it is not even that, but a form of political expediency. But with respect to you, Colonel, it is not the Attainder that interests me, but how you have dealt with it. You have carried on, and not just for yourself, but in continued service to your people.” The words surprised Kira, not because they were not true—they were—but because they revealed an opinion she would never have guessed Akaar to possess.
“Perhaps I owe you an apology, then,” she said. But then, recalling that the admiral had certainly not made his stay at Deep Space 9 an easy one for her, she added, “Or perhaps you owe me one.”
“Perhaps neither,” Akaar countered. He reached forward and picked up his glass of grosz,finishing it. “Would you like another?” he asked.
Kira held up her glass and saw that it was still half full. Quickly, she raised the glass to her lips, threw her head back, and downed the rest of her drink. Then she held the glass out to the admiral, and said, “Yes, thank you.”
For the first time that she had seen, Akaar smiled. He took her glass and walked back across the room, returning a moment later with two new drinks. He handed one to Kira across the table, and remained standing. “Colonel, I believe that you and I have similar feelings about our peoples,” he said. He paused, and then added, “Although I may have more frustrations with mine.”
“Oh, I’ve had plenty of frustrations myself,” Kira said. “Back in the days of the provisional government…” She did not need to finish the sentence.
“I understand,” he said. He seemed to consider something very seriously for a moment, and then he said, “On my world, the Ten Tribes have warred sporadically for most of my life.” Kira wondered how long that was, and suddenly had the sense that Akaar was a great deal older than she had assumed from his appearance. “Numerous leaders have stepped forward through the years,” he went on, “and attempted to unify all the people. Some succeeded, but only for short times. Many of Capella’s greatest leaders were deposed, others were…others were killed.” Genuine emotion appeared on Akaar’s features, an expression of terrible sadness, Kira thought. The admiral absently sipped at his drink, and then said, “I was the victim of a coup myself.”
“You?” Kira asked.
He moved back to the chair and sat down. “I was a boy,” he said. “Born into leadership, a teer at birth.” Kira gathered that teerwas the title given to Capellan leaders. “My mother served as my regent, and it was she who took me from our world and got me to safety when our government was overthrown.”
“Have you ever gone back?” Kira asked.
“Many times,” Akaar said. “I have had a long life, and my people are a good, strong people…perhaps too strong in some ways. The unity we need eludes us.”
“I’m sorry,” Kira said. “I think I understand.”
“I believe that you do, Colonel,” Akaar agreed. “For more than a century, the Federation has provided my people with food and medicine…they have dramatically improved the quality of health care. Before my birth, Starfleet officers even saved my mother’s life. For a long time, I have wished for the opportunities for my people that Federation membership would bring.”
“Will it ever happen?” Kira wanted to know.
“I hope so,” Akaar said, melancholy tainting his voice. “But certainly not in my lifetime. I’ve had to admit to myself that we Capellans have not matured enough as a society to become part of a greater community.” It seemed a difficult admission for him. “I’m envious of your people,” he said, holding his glass up again, “Bajor has come far since the Occupation, and you should be proud of that, Colonel.”
“I am proud of that,” Kira said, but she heard a hesitancy in her tone. “I am,” she repeated, stronger.
Akaar must have sensed her momentary uncertainty, because he asked, “Do you have concerns?”
“Yes,” she confessed, “but not exactly about my people. I favor Federation membership, but tonight, after the first minister’s announcement, I found myself worrying about Bajorans being able to retain their identity now.”
“The Federation has chosen to invite and accept Bajor into our community because Bajorans offer their own uniqueness,” Akaar told her. “There will be no need and no desire to change that. This union is not about how Bajor can be made to fit into the Federation, but rather how the Federation can be made into a part of Bajor.”
Kira smiled, those ideas precisely what she had hoped for, and the words precisely what she had needed to hear tonight. “Thank you, Admiral,” she said.