9

KAS MANAGED TO SLEEP IN UNTIL LATE MORNING, THOUGH SHE WASN’T convinced it should be called “sleeping in,” or at least not for the extremely pregnant.

Sleep doesn’t have much to do with it, when you have to get up every hour or two to make room, she thought groggily, not wanting to move, understanding that she had no choice in the matter. How long had it been since she’d slept more than two hours in a row? It seemed like years. Add to that the breathlessness, the random aches, the inability to eat more than a half plate of food without it trying to wander back up

in all, though she was excited about the baby, she was finding pregnancy to be a serious chore.

At least now I’ve got a distraction, Kas thought, wincing as she heaved herself to the side of the bed, her hipbones shifting uncomfortably. Jake had come home to stay for a while, and though he’d gone to bed early the night before, obviously exhausted by his travels, it sounded like he had enough stories to tell to get her through the last days.

Which will save me from having to carry a conversation. Her last OB trip to the station, Dr. Tarses had shown her an article that explained her general clumsy confusion; it wasn’t just the lack of normal sleep, after all. Turned out that pregnancy actually caused brain shrinkage in humans for the last trimester

also an explanation for how she could trail off midsentence and forget what she was talking about in the space of a few seconds.

Not that very many had noticed. She didn’t have the busiest of social lives, although she had gotten to know a few of her neighbors in the last couple of months. Lately, every few days, someone would drop by with a basket of vegetables or a homemade soup or bread. And there was also the small group of monks who’d set up a makeshift camp just off the property, some ten days earlier

one or two of them dropped by every afternoon, just to see if she wanted anything. She had the impression that they were locals, had perhaps volunteered to watch over her as her due date came and went. It was funny, that her main worry about moving to Bajor had been that as the Emissary’s wife, she’d be treated differently. In the months since she’d settled in, she had noticed that people were especially nice to her

but had also noted that they were awfully nice to each other, too. Ben had chosen a beautiful piece of land to build on, but the community was what would make it feel like home.

She shuffled to the refresher and took care of business, stopping to brush and tie her hair back, smiling brightly at herself in the mirror before heading to the kitchen. It was so good, to have a reason for trying to look halfway decent—in the last month or so, she’d gotten used to wandering around in pajamas, and hadn’t bothered with her hair in weeks. All the better that the reason was Jake.

Ben’s son was sitting at the table just outside the open kitchen, reading, a scattering of plates and cups attesting to a recent breakfast. She smelled cinnamon. He looked up when she came in and grinned, setting the padd aside as he quickly stood up.

“Sit down, let me get you breakfast,” he said, pulling out a chair. “I made French toast when I got up, saved some batter

” He trailed off, a sudden look of anxiety on his face. “Do you want French toast? Is that going to make you sick? I can make eggs, or something. Whatever you want.”

Only a few weeks earlier she might have protested, insisting that she was perfectly capable of getting her own breakfast, thank you—but now she only laughed, taking the seat gratefully. It was sweet of him to be so attentive, and the truth of it was, moving around a lot was kind of a pain these days. “French toast sounds wonderful. And a big glass of water, if you don’t mind.”

“You got it,” Jake said, hurrying around the counter, a man with a mission. His expression suggested that he would bring her breakfast or die trying. The plus side of late pregnancy, Kas decided; she’d heard that she should enjoy it while it lasted. Once the baby came, she doubted anyone would be as eager to pamper her.

The French toast was great—his only specialty, Jake insisted—and they lingered at the table afterward, Kas listening as Jake talked about some of the things he’d seen in the Gamma Quadrant. He’d explained the night before why he’d left, apologizing about a hundred times in spite of her immediate acceptance. She’d been very upset when he’d disappeared, of course, had suffered through some serious anxiety—but had been determined not to let her pregnancy be dominated by fear, reminding herself constantly that Jake was a grown man, smart and responsible

and if something had happened, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by sorrow would be bad for her, and therefore bad for the baby. She thought she’d done a pretty good job of it, in all, so reassuring Jake that she was okay hadn’t been such a stretch.

Jake also had some news from the station, about what had been going on since First Minister Shakaar’s assassination—the Cardassian presence, possible conspiracy scenarios, mostly bits of news heard from Quark, through Nog. At least Kira seemed to be holding up; she’d looked very tired on yesterday’s call, but Jake said she’d seemed much better before he’d left for Bajor

he said she’d been very happy about Opaka Sulan’s return.

Jake talked a bit about the former kai, about how she’d escaped the moon she’d been stranded on, and what she’d done in the years since. Having never met the woman, Kas was interested, but she was also starting to wonder if she should bring up Ben. She’d told herself that she would wait for Jake to broach the topic, not wanting to push him, but she missed Ben, terribly

and knew that Jake felt the same. She wanted to talk about it before Jake’s grandfather arrived, with the O’Briens and Jake’s Aunt Judith; it wasn’t that they didn’t miss Ben, too, but the connections were different. Besides, Joseph was going to be so happy to see Jake, that would be an event all its own; with the communications restrictions, she hadn’t been able to get through to him, but the runabout from Earth was due to show up sometime in the next two or three days.

“So, is it a boy or a girl?” Jake asked, eyeing her big belly with a teasing smile. “I bet it’s a boy. You know, when I talked to Dr. Bashir about it—”

Kas mock-glared at him, cutting him off. “He didn’t tell you anything. I’m his patient, he’s sworn to secrecy.”

“You know, Quark’s got a pool on it,” Jake said.

“Why am I not surprised?” Kas said. “Who’s winning?”

“Ah, I think boy is ahead, but only by a few points.”

Kas shook her head. “Maybe I’ll have twins, just to upset Quark. He’d have to give everyone’s money back.”

At Jake’s surprised look, Kas smiled. “No, Jake, it’s not twins. That, I would know.” She paused, then added wryly, “Besides, avatar wasn’t plural.”

Jake nodded slowly. It seemed he’d been filled in on a few of the other prophecies from Ohalu’s book, too, not just the one that sent him to the Gamma Quadrant. Either that, or the page that he’d been given had also referenced the Emissary’s second child; Jake had glossed over that part of last night’s explanation, apparently embarrassed that he’d thought he’d be bringing Ben home, and had instead found the kai. It was very strange, having one’s life so intricately en-twined in an ancient religion; though she might come to accept it, it wasn’t something she thought she would ever be entirely comfortable with.

“It’s weird,” Jake said, echoing her thought. “You know, having all these things revolve around Dad, and his family. It makes me wonder if we have any choice in what we do, any free will, you know?”

Kas nodded. “Let me know if you figure it out. I’m just

I’m hoping that he’ll come back soon. I feel like it’s time, now. I know that’s because of the baby, of how close I am

but I’m also afraid that he’s going to miss things, important things in our lives. Mostly, though, it’s just what I want. Maybe that’s selfish, but it’s

it’s what I want.”

Even as she said it, she felt the now-familiar sensations of movement in her belly, the baby pushing as it maneuvered for a more comfortable position. Without saying a word, Kas reached over and took Jake’s hand, placing it just below the left side of her rib cage.

“Is it—” Jake started, just as the baby started doing what she thought of as the vibrating dance, throwing in a few solid nudges for good measure. The expression on Jake’s face as he watched her belly was beautiful, a dawning understanding that there was life inside of her, that it was real and coming soon.

Kas smiled, watching him, grateful that he was there. At least now she had someone to wait with her, to help her until Ben came home

someone as special to her as if he’d been her own.

Kira was just finishing up a meeting with Vlu and Macet when Ro signaled, wanting to meet. Kira asked her to come to ops and then wrapped up the coordination briefing, Macet disappearing from the console screen a moment before Vlu took her leave. The defense perimeter was solid, according to Macet, and Kira was relieved to hear from Vlu that the Cardassians on board seemed to be comfortable enough, in spite of the overall negative reaction they’d received. The news from Bajor wasn’t quite as good—Macet said that his people had reported that many Bajorans were still avoiding cooperation, but Vaughn, at least, was doing everything in his power to smooth things over and keep the operation going as quickly as possible.

The office doors parted, Ro striding in with a look of triumph on her face. She dropped a padd on Kira’s desk, a tight grin breaking through her usually detached composure.

“Found it,” she said.

Kira picked up the padd, not sure what she was looking at; it appeared to be a random list of planets.

“Found what?”

“First Minister Shakaar was infected by a parasite on Minos Korva,” Ro said with certainty.

Kira felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you sure?”

“As certain as I can be, considering it’s all long-distance leg-work,” she said. “Starfleet’s been looking at all the places Shakaar stopped on his way home from the Sol system. They’ve managed to cancel out two of the small stations closest to Earth, but still have nine to look at

except there are really only five.”

“Why only five?”

Ro leaned across the desk, and with a go-on nod from Kira, called up a star chart of Shakaar’s route to and from Earth on the computer. She highlighted a number of planets and a few bases.

“These are where he stopped on his way back,” Ro said. “Note that Betazed is third, after Deneva. Based on the reports from the Enterprise on the Starfleet infiltration, a full Betazoid would probably be able to detect a parasite mind. And Shakaar was there for over a week.”

Kira frowned, trying to remember the counselor’s report. Ro supplied it. “Deanna Troi was ship’s counselor—still is, I believe—and is half Betazoid; she sensed that something was being hidden. It’s not hard evidence, but I doubt very much that if Shakaar had been infected by then, he would have dared it.”

It made sense. “So, that rules out Deneva, New France, and Betazed,” Kira said.

“Right. And Gard finally passed on something useful yesterday, after Dax and the general spoke with him—a time frame.”

Kira blinked. “You know, then

“

“About the Trill watchers,” Ro said, nodding. “And I know when they decided Shakaar might be a threat

. About two weeks after Betazed was when he first contacted them, claiming that he wanted additional information about Trill as part of his lobby run.”

Kira peered at the chart. “Which would eliminate at least the last planet on the list, Xepolite.”

“Probably Lya, too,” Ro said, “though I didn’t rule it out immediately. I spent most of last night cross-checking Federation arrival and departure logs with what we got from his ship’s computer

and Minos Korva has to be it, third after Betazed. There are Federation starbases on either side, both set up with heavy surveillance; every moment of his time would be accounted for. But on the planet, he was taken on a scenic tour of their western mountain ranges that lasted for four days. Low population, a lot of isolated territory. There had to be infinite opportunity for infection.”

Kira stared at the chart another moment, feeling a smile of her own forming. “Ro, this is amazing. Really excellent work. I’ll contact Akaar immediately.”

“What about Gard?” Ro asked. “I couldn’t have done this without him

will you pass that along?”

Kira wished it were that easy. “I’m not sure what Gard told you,” she said carefully, “but I’m guessing it’s at least part of what Ezri told me

and the thing is, the Federation doesn’t know about his role in what happened. Not yet.”

Ro frowned, an edge in her voice. “Why not? Maybe he went about it the wrong way, but he did what was necessary, they’ll have to see that.”

Killing Edon was necessary. Kira felt a stir of despairing anger, but pushed it away.

“It’s political and complicated,” she said. “I’m sorry, I can’t do any better than that

but if and when this all comes out, I’ll do what I can for him.”

Ro’s jaw tightened, but she only nodded.

“You’re doing a good job, Ro,” Kira said. “Even the admiral will have to concede to that.”

Ro almost smiled. “It seems to me, he doesn’t ‘have’ to do anything.”

Kira sighed, shaking her head slightly. “I know, he can be difficult. But he’s just doing what he thinks is best.”

“Absolutely,” Ro said, that edge still in her voice. “Permission to be excused?”

“Granted,” Kira said. “But just let me say

I hope you’re still considering your options, regarding your resignation?”

Ro’s face was a blank. “I’ve been busy, Colonel. I’ll give it all the consideration it’s due, when I have the time.”

Kira thought about telling her that she wasn’t the only one who hoped Ro would reconsider, that the lieutenant still had an ally or two in the Federation

but her carefully crafted, barely civil answer made it clear that now was not the time.

“Excused, Lieutenant,” Kira said, slightly exasperated with the woman’s constant defenses. Every time they made progress as coworkers, one of them managed to rub the other one the wrong way.

Ro retrieved her padd and walked out without looking back, leaving Kira to steel herself up for another conversation with the admiral.

Vaughn commed off from Kira and sat for a few moments, staring at the blank console. Reports had officially been exchanged. He’d spent the day rescheduling and reassigning the scan teams, working to keep most of the Cardassians at the main camp, out of civilian sight; Lenaris had agreed it was a necessary tactic. Vaughn had reported to Kira that he was looking into setting up a temporary transporter system between the central compound and the busiest of the smaller camps, at least using the runabouts’ systems, and that they’d managed to clear four more “possibles,” a family from the Hill province. There had been no luck tracing Shakaar’s final transmissions to Bajor, not from his end. Kira reported in turn that Ro Laren had figured out where Shakaar had been infected, and that the news had been passed along to Akaar; she’d sent Dax and the general to Trill, to dig through files, and Bashir was developing theories on the parasites’ telepathic link

and we’re not really accomplishing much of anything. He felt hopeless, like that saying about closing the barn door after the livestock had escaped. Everything they were doing, everything they could do wouldn’t be nearly enough. There was no question that there were a number of infected, both on the station and on the planet’s surface, and they hadn’t managed to uncover even one more case.

Kira had asked after his health before signing off, studying his face with a scrutiny that suggested he didn’t look well. He’d brushed it off with a crack about the plush accommodations, but she hadn’t seemed convinced

and having stared in the ‘fresher mirror for a few minutes that morning, after yet another restless night, he wasn’t surprised. The dark hollows under his eyes, the pallid complexion, the lines around his nose and mouth

he looked like someone recovering from a lengthy illness, the kind that usually killed.

I’m not, though. In fact, it feels like I’m just getting started. Things were getting worse, not better. All he’d seen in his dreams for the past two days was Ruriko or Prynn, one or both of them screaming or in danger, and in his dreams, he wouldn’t help them. He meant to, he wanted to, but for some reason, he just stood and watched, cursing himself, overwhelmed by guilt and inaction as the only two women he’d ever loved continued to scream, to die. It was terrible. And though he was performing his duties, taking care of what needed to be done, he spent a great part of his waking hours thinking about it.

“This has to stop,” he said, the thought of it so deeply embedded in his mind now that he didn’t notice he’d spoken. Why was he having such a difficult time shaking this?

Without actually making the decision, he reached out and tapped at the console board, speaking his code—he was one of the few lucky enough to have one that allowed a direct access, though it meant he was scanned up to six times daily—and got through to Nguyen on the station. He made his request and she logged it, connecting him straight through to Prynn’s quarters.

Be home, please be home, he thought, watching the cursor pulse at the bottom of the screen, vaguely astounded that he was calling, not caring if it was selfish. He wanted, needed to see her, to tell her again how sorry he was—

Prynn’s face flashed onto the screen, open and pleasant—until she saw who was calling. Her features closed immediately, like some flower that drew in on itself with the setting sun, her gaze narrowing, her lips pulling tight.

“What do you want?” she said, her voice as rigid as she could make it.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Vaughn started, his heart growing heavy as he looked into her anger, his feelings of helplessness growing. “I—just wanted to see you, to see how you were.”

Her expression didn’t change. “You’ve seen me. I’m fine—and I’m really very busy, so

“

“I’m sorry,” he said, blurted out without caring about his stupid pride, without caring that the words were nothing to what he’d done, that they might even insult her. “I’m sorry about everything, Prynn. Please believe that, you have to believe that much—”

“I have to go,” she said, one hand darting forward, the screen going blank.

Vaughn sat and stared, feeling like it was all he was good for, remembering that he used to be stronger, less affected by these things, these emotional troubles that had sometimes cropped up in his life. Killing Ruriko had done something to him, and though he’d only just started to gain Prynn’s acceptance before the killing, he felt its absence now far more than he thought was possible.

It had to stop, it had to, he was on a downward spiral that he couldn’t control. The thought repeated itself again and again as Vaughn dragged himself to his feet and went to find Lenaris, to plan the next day, to do his duty.