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Sometimes Kira caught herself thinking that maybe there wasn't really any after a war. Treaties got signed, forces retreated. Trade started up again. Transports arrived and departed without armed guard, without their crews assuming they'd never make it to where they were going. But there was no end to counting the dead, treating the wounded, restoring the damage. The missing were eventually assumed dead, even though there were occasional, impossible happy surprises — half a squadron of Bajoran resistance fighters found living off the land in the mountains of Cardassia IV. Despite it all Bajor was recovering, finally. Even seven years after the formal end of the occupation, their food reserves might have been strained, and their farmlands still tainted by war, and half the planet was still skeptical of Federation aid. But they were rebuilding. Building new things. Most of the urgent aid coming through Deep Space Nine now wasn't for Bajor but, instead, Cardassia.
And while Bajor recovered, Deep Space Nine was still running.
During the Bajoran Resistance, Kira had learned not to judge herself too harshly for the way an emergency could help her focus. During the occupation it would be easier to drown in grief and fury than to feel it, process it the way Ezri kept trying to convince her was necessary now; feeling anything besides grim determination to finish the mission was a luxury. The year after the Dominion War felt similar. More than Kira could have guessed. Months of fighting on Cardassia, side by side with Cardassians, for Cardassia. Still grieving Jadzia. Losing Odo. Not losing Sisko, but — not having him on the station anymore. Not having him in charge. Not having him as the Emissary, someone the Vedek Assembly would actually listen to. Worf, and Miles and Keiko, Molly and Kirayoshi, gone to other planets — what it came down to, Kira told Ezri during the first Gratitude Festival since the end of the war, was that Kira was grateful that she had too much to do to feel lonely.
"I'll withhold giving you my professional opinion about that until you ask for it," Ezri said, rolling up her own renewal scroll.
"I appreciate that," said Kira. "Do you have a personal opinion, to go with the professional one?"
"My personal opinion is that Sisko would be really proud of you. Running this station is a little bit of an impossible job, and you've made it look just as easy as he did. But even Sisko took breaks every now and then. You should, too." Ezri knocked her shoulder against Kira's. "Even if you're afraid you'll feel lonely."
Kira had taken two renewal scrolls to fill up. It wasn't exactly orthodox, but she wasn't alone. A lot of people had a lot of worries these days. "I'm not afraid of feeling lonely," she said. "It's just — I think it's been easier to adjust because I've been busy. Don't tell me Julian isn't the same way. I've seen how much he's publishing, I have to sign off on most of it."
"It's a healthier coping mechanism for him than some of those holoprograms," Ezri said dryly.
"Is that a personal or a professional opinion?"
"First and foremost personal," said Ezri, "but I admit the lines get blurred sometimes in relationships. Don't worry, you don't have to report us for anything. I have a counselor myself, and she outranks me significantly."
Kira laughed, mostly because sometimes Ezri's world-weariness seemed so incongruous with the shockingly young face. Ezri Dax had gotten good at projecting age and authority like Jadzia had, at least in formal situations, but personally, or at least with Kira, she didn't bother, and she could seem both impossibly young and impossibly old at the same time. "Don't worry, I trust your expertise," she said, mostly teasing.
"Then trust me when I tell you you really need a vacation?"
"I'll take it under advisement," said Kira, and finished her second renewal scroll, and wondered idly if taking a third would be ridiculous.
Sisko would be proud of you. Ezri Dax was probably the one person in the universe who'd know best, and so Kira believed her. But sometimes Kira wondered if Sisko being proud really meant the Emissary would be too. Rejoining the Prophets — Sisko was outside time now, in the Celestial Temple, and he could see her. Everything she'd been, everything she would be. Every choice she'd already made, and every choice she would make.
Kira hoped Ezri was right. That he was proud, that he was at peace.
The Gratitude Festival proper was still held on Bajor. That was where the Kai came to speak, and the great ornamental mandalas were displayed, and the Janalan vedeks kept on their chant while the baterat branches burned. Kira had been invited planetside by no fewer than a dozen people she knew, and she'd turned them all down with varying levels of politeness. It had been tempting. It would have felt right, she knew that — her first non-service trip back to Bajor being for Peldor, burning her worries on her home planet and coming back to the station unburdened.
But it would have meant — taking time off. Finding somewhere to stay. Talking about the Emissary — about Sisko — about Cardassia. All the things everyone on the station knew too much about themselves to want to talk about, or at least respected Kira's station well enough not to ask. So Kira stayed. Maybe it was cowardice. If so, she felt like she deserved some cowardice after the past years. She invited the Council of Vedeks to send a representative and hold ceremonies on the station for anyone who wanted to participate but couldn't make it to Bajor, and they'd been more than willing. Even if it wasn't on Bajor, the station was closer to the Celestial Temple than most Bajorans would ever get, and the station festivities had even attracted celebrants from Bajor. Quark wasn't complaining, though Julian was.
"A unified vaccination standard would do wonders," he said, watching his own renewal scroll go up in smoke. "It can't wait much longer before becoming unmanageable — it's only a matter of time before the Cardassian pandemics spill over into the aid worker population, and from there it's a simple question of the right transport heading to the wrong system before we have a public health catastrophe on our hands. The last thing we need with relations finally normalizing is a Cardassian plague making it to Bajor via the station."
"Julian, you're supposed to let your problems turn into ashes here, not repeat them," said Ezri.
"I thought you were making progress with the standardization," said Kira. Once Julian's renewal scroll had crumbled into ash, she fed her first scroll to the fire. "Don't tell me the Cardassians aren't cooperating."
"Oh, they're cooperating," said Ezri, who spoke with the great familiarity of someone who'd heard someone else's complaints often enough to have them memorized, but who didn't resent it. "It's Federation politics now."
"So fear not, Colonel, nothing I'll have to trouble you about," said Julian.
"But Starfleet might trouble me about something you've said?" guessed Kira.
"Well, I hope not," said Julian. Kira fed her second scroll to the fire. "If so, I do apologize."
They watched Kira's second scroll dissolve. A nervous pair of young Bajorans came up next, four scrolls between them. They didn't meet Kira's eyes.
"First round on me?" said Julian, and they left the fire for the rest of the celebrants.
Quark's was busy, but one perk of being in charge of the station was that someone could always find a table for you. Kira tried not to take advantage of it, in no small part because drinking at Quark's alone was incredibly depressing, and her senior staff hadn't quite clicked together well enough yet to suggest dabo nights or drink rounds. But it came in handy when the station was packed. Rom cheerfully used them as an excuse to kick out a party of extremely drunk revelers and brought them their synthales only a few minutes later. Kira was just starting to feel settled in when Julian proposed the first toast be to Miles.
"Miles?"
Julian grinned. "Oh, don't tell me he hasn't told you. He and Keiko and the kids are heading back to this quadrant — to Bajor, in fact."
"I think maybe you were supposed to keep that a secret," said Ezri.
"He said nothing of the sort in his message," said Julian, "and if he meant to and forgot, that's hardly my problem."
"I thought he was teaching at the Academy," said Kira. "That's — that's a pretty big deal, right? Did that not work out?" That was hard to imagine — the chief — not the chief anymore, she told herself, probably professor or something else like that — he could be harsh when someone messed up, but he knew his stuff, and he was fair.
"I knew he couldn't keep himself away for too long," said Julian. The irritation of discussing quarantines and pandemics and vaccine schedules had melted away. It made him look younger. "He spent more than a decade between here and the Enterprise — a man doesn't just teach happily after that."
Ezri rolled her eyes. "Keiko got a job offer from someone she'd worked with on a Bajoran botanical project. Some big agricultural project. She's the Starfleet expert on Bajoran plant life, apparently, at least until some of her students graduate."
"No wonder you're in such a good mood all of the sudden," Kira said to Julian. "You'll have someone to kayak with in the holosuite again."
"Oh, probably not too often," said Julian. "I expect he'll be working for the Federation on Bajor, too. But at least he'll be closer. Did he really not tell you? I bet he told Keiko he would and forgot."
"I'm… behind on my personal correspondence," Kira admitted. She took a swig of her drink and tried not to think about how many messages she'd been ignoring. "When did he comm you?"
"The message got in two days ago," he said. "You should check."
"And catch up on your personal correspondence," said Ezri. "That's both my personal and my professional opinion."
"I've been busy!" said Kira, but they let her change the subject to gossip about the new security officer, and neither of them reminded her to check her messages when she left, which she appreciated.
Sure enough there was a message waiting for her from the O'Briens, a little more than 52 hours old. Kira hit play on it immediately. A wavering little image of Miles O'Brien appeared on her computer screen. He looked shockingly the same.
"Colonel," he said, then came in Keiko's voice, although she didn't show up — don't call her that!, was what Kira could make out.
The image of Miles turned around. "Keiko, that's her rank!"
Then Keiko was over Miles's shoulder in the image. "Hi, Nerys!" she said. She looked the same, too, although her hair was up, and she was in uniform. "We're moving to Bajor!"
"What she said," said Miles. Then, with no small amount of pride, "Keiko's going to be leading an agricultural viral resistance program for Starfleet — in cooperation with the technical institute on Bajor. Big deal stuff."
From the background, Keiko's voice again: "Miles will still be teaching!"
Long-suffering fondness on Miles's face. "Yes, Keiko thinks it's very important everyone knows she's not ruining my career to run off and study plants again," he said. He said it like if she did feel like ruining his career to run off and study plants again, he'd only be mildly annoyed, and he'd think less of anyone who thought less of his wife anyways. "Anyways, they're setting us up on Bajor. Keiko thought we ought to get settled in sooner rather than later, so we're leaving on the first shuttle that has space for all four of us." He gave the Federation stardate they'd be arriving on. "We'll be overnight on the station, then down to Bajor the next day. Keiko wants you to visit, if you can make the time."
From the background: "Miles wants you to visit too, he just likes making me do the talking about feelings!"
Miles ignored this. "Kirayoshi's talking a little now, and Molly's coming around to starting at a new school — she's taking it a little hard, but I think once she realizes there'll still be other kids to play with on Bajor, she'll be just fine. She missed that on the station. Hope we see you when we're on the station, but I remember how things go there. If there's a diplomatic incident or station emergency, we'll understand. Take care, Nerys."
And the image flickered into nothing.
"I can't believe I missed that," said Kira, to nobody. Her quarters were empty. She sat down on the edge of her bed. "Computer, set a new alert policy? If I get a personal transmission from the O'Briens, set it at priority alpha-three." She thought about it for a moment longer. "Apply the same rule to transmissions from Worf of the House of Martok, Kassidy Yates, and Jake Sisko." Was there anyone else? Not really.
The computer chirped a confirmation, and Kira took her sonic shower wondering how many other actually personal transmissions she'd missed that she actually would have replied to if she'd bothered opening them. Was she really that busy? That was easier to think about that whatever complicated feeling welled up in her when she thought about the O'Briens, and Kirayoshi, and all of them being on Bajor, and her nearly missing it entirely.
Kira had meant to meet the O'Briens when they got to the station, but somehow both she and Julian ended up stuck in an emergency meeting about an admittedly suspicious medical crisis suffered by an Andorian trade representative bound for Cardassia from Bajor — one thing about being in charge was that if it was important, you probably had to be involved. Julian was more sour about it than she was, but pointed out that O'Brien was more than certain to understand. "He remembers how it was," he muttered to her, while the Andorian's first officer started another line of borderline libelous questioning against the Cardassian who'd been on the station to meet him.
"I still feel bad," muttered Kira. "How long is the trip from Earth, anyways?" On the Defiant was one thing — she had a feeling most passenger shuttles weren't quite that fast, even if they were Starfleet.
"Two weeks, about." Julian fiddled with the PADD in front of him. He had a text comm pulled up. "Ah, Keiko says they're putting Yoshi to bed now."
"Don't look at them, but the Andorians are very concerned about what we're muttering about over here," said Kira, very quietly.
"Good, they should be. I could be planning to quarantine them all for another week if they don't stop screaming at one another."
"That's not a bad idea. Lets everyone know we're taking it serious, keeps them from fighting anymore on the Promenade. Is there medical justification?"
"Seventy-two hours would be more classical," muttered Julian. "And we'll have had more than enough time to scan the rest of the ship for contamination then."
The rest of the room had fallen silent, either having figured out Kira wasn't listening to them or assuming she and Bashir were engaged in much more serious discussion than they actually were. "Do you think Sisko ever did this?"
"Made a pageant of taking a bunch of diplomats much more seriously than was warranted, and somehow managing to make most of them happy, or at least not much more angry?" She could barely hear Julian, he was so quiet. He'd bent very close to her, so it was obvious they were talking, but impossible to hear them. "Oh, every opportunity he had."
"Specifically gossiping, though."
"Probably just with Dax," said Julian. "I'll ask Ezri."
Kira nodded once, sternly, and said, at a normal tone, "Thank you, Dr. Bashir. Everyone, I apologize for the inconvenience, but we do take this seriously — if there's any chance of contagion or foul play, we need to get to the bottom of it." She outlined exactly how the quarantine would work, and fielded several more irreverent questions from the Andorian, and once she'd finally wrapped things up in a way that probably made things more manageable, she and Julian headed straight to the guest deck.
Kira let Julian knock. For a moment everything seemed utterly surreal, more like a vision from the Prophets than a moment in her real life — here she was, more than a year after the war, waiting to see Miles and Keiko O'Brien again with Julian Bashir. The young man who'd blundered on the station talking about frontier medicine. How young he'd seemed then — how young they'd both been. Now she'd fought a war next to him and knew without a doubt he'd lay down his life for her, if the occasion ever called for it. When Keiko opened the door the feeling of strangeness only intensified. Here was Keiko O'Brien, the woman whose child she'd birthed. And behind her, in the sitting room area of the guest quarters, was Miles O'Brien and Molly O'Brien. It felt — unbelievably strange.
Molly deigned to let her father step away from their shared drawing to sweep Julian up in a bear hug, both of them grinning wildly. Keiko took Kira by the elbow while the two of them took to their catching-up. "Yoshi's asleep," she said, "but come see how big he's gotten."
There was a crib in the main bedroom, and the lights were low but not out entirely — "He doesn't like the dark if he's alone," said Keiko, very quietly — and she let Kira approach at her own pace. She was surprised to find herself unsteady. In the crib, there he was — asleep on his back, red-faced, with thin and curly light-blond hair. "He really takes after Miles," whispered Keiko.
Kira wanted to touch his cheek — to pick him up and bury her face in his hair. But the feeling passed. "He's beautiful," she whispered back.
Keiko beamed, and squeezed Kira's arm. Back in the front room Miles and Julian were going back and forth about Starfleet politics, Molly trying to follow along, wide-eyed.
"Kira, if we let these men go have a drink together, will you keep Molly and me company?" said Keiko.
For a moment Kira had the urge to tease them for being so eager to leave, but — seeing Miles again was strange. Stranger than she'd expected. "I suppose I can part with my chief medical officer for an hour or two," said Kira, "but don't keep him out too late, Miles."
"Aye, aye, colonel," said Julian, and he didn't salute, even though he looked like he wanted to. Miles just rolled his eyes.
Molly returned to her coloring — she politely but seriously refused any help from Keiko or Kira. "It's very sweet, it's just a her-and-her-dad thing right now," Keiko explained, replicating two cups of tea. "At least this week. We'll see after we've settled in."
"Speaking of settling in — what part of Bajor will you be in?"
Keiko had the computer pull up a map of Bajor, and she indicated where the housing complex was, and the research fields. It was all based out of the Makar province, though still about an hour's shuttle-ride away from the capital. Kira remembered it as an area less scarred by war than you'd expect, given its proximity to the capital city.
"Part of the reason they picked this location, I think," Keiko said. "Close enough to the university, a few major spaceports, but far enough away we can get a lot growing and not worry about restoring the fields first." She dialed something else into the computer, and the map of Bajor changed — instead of cities and provinces, there were ridges to show mountains and valleys, and the planet was drenched in color. "Green is where we know growing is unchallenged — the soil is in good shape, minimal concern about munitions exposure — then the surface is shaded yellow in proportion with effort needed to remediate soil before growing." Urban centers were indicated in gray, dangerous contamination in orange — then there was an overlay to show existing agricultural efforts. After a few minutes Keiko apologized. "I meant to ask your advice about settling in, and here I've been practically giving you a presentation," she said.
"No, it's interesting," said Kira. "I'm glad Bajor's going to have you helping. We need it, I know."
"Will you visit us?" Keiko shut down the map, and looked at Kira with cheerful intensity. "Miles and I were both disappointed we couldn't stay at the station longer to catch up — we'd be disappointed if we had you so nearby and never saw you. Especially after everything, you know?"
For a moment it was on the tip of Kira's tongue to ask if Julian would be getting the same invitation, too, but something in the way Keiko was looking at her made it pretty clear the answer to that would be no.
"Well, the station can be pretty busy," said Kira, "but I'm overdue to take leave. I can probably visit sometime."
"Great! Miles will be thrilled. Next week?"
Kira really meant to defer. To say that for her to leave the station for a few days, there needed to be more planning ahead of time, a longer lead time on announcing it. Except that wasn't really true, and for some reason she didn't feel like lying to Keiko.
"I'll see what I can do," said Kira.
A week and a half later, on Bajor, Miles met her at the landing pad alone. Kira felt a flicker of panic for a moment seeing just him — Do I hug him? Do I definitely not hug him? Something about the way she regarded him had changed, after Yoshi, and never quite gone back to the way it was. She hadn't had to think about it much up until now. There'd been Bareil, and Odo, and so much grief, and then Miles and Keiko had been gone, anyways. Now they were back, and Kira did want to see them both, and Yoshi, but what did that mean? Anything? Just that Ezri was right and she needed to take more time away from the station to keep from going completely stir-crazy?
Thankfully Miles took the choice out of her hands entirely by immediately taking her bags, despite her insistence she could carry them perfectly well herself. "I know that much," he said, as she let him anyways. "But you're our guest. No trouble with the shuttle, I hope?"
There'd been none at all. And no trouble getting away from the station either, despite Kira's steadily increasing concern that some last-minute emergency might present itself and keep her from taking leave. Her second in command was the head of security, Ro Laren, a Bajoran who'd come to the station by way of Starfleet, and Kira was reasonably certain she could handle anything in her absence short of the return of the Emissary.
It was a short shuttle ride from the landing pad to the Federation barracks — that was what Miles called them, half-joking, but Kira could see why. The Federation had set up fabricated housing for the incoming research staff and their housing, with a guarantee that when they left, the housing would be turned over to administration by the Makar Province itself. Even in the dark the buildings were obviously alien, but they were sturdy enough they'd still find use, Kira was confident. Besides, they were cozier than you'd think, inside. Miles and Keiko had a unit at the end of a block that opened up into a blended kitchen and sitting room just like any of the Bajoran apartments you'd find in the capital.
"Obviously the Federation provides some furnishing, but everything's so sterile until you have at least a few rugs around," Keiko explained, during the very short tour she insisted on giving Kira as soon as she'd arrived. Molly's room was upstairs, and she was already asleep, so the tour was really just the dining area, guest room, and a peek into Miles and Keiko's room where Yoshi was asleep in a crib. ("Really he's old enough he's ready for his own room," Keiko whispered, "but we thought with such a big transition, you know, it can't hurt to let him sleep in our room a little while longer.")
The guest room wasn't much, but there was a bed and plenty of room for Kira's bags. Keiko helped her unpack the little she'd brought while running a quiet running commentary on her and Miles's plans for the next few days — "We're both glad you made it for the last few days we really have off," she said, smoothing a fresh comforter over the bed. "Though goodness knows you shouldn't feel obliged just to spend time with us the whole time you're here — there's probably lots of people you'd like to catch up with."
"Too many," said Kira.
"Miles thought you and I might find something to do tomorrow while he looks after the kids, and then once you're settled in, you can decide what to do with the rest of your time here."
Would a day spent with just Keiko help her shake off the last of the unwanted chemistry she had with Miles, or completely the opposite? Kira wasn't certain, but she was here now, and things would be fine. They had to be. "Sounds like a plan," she said.
Kira slept deep and dreamlessly and woke up to the sound of children trying to be quiet in the next room. When she emerged it was to find Miles trying to both color with Molly and keep Yoshi from smearing oatmeal into his hair, while Keiko tidied up the kitchen. Kira waved off the apologies for the kids waking her up — she had slept more than long enough — and let Keiko fix her something to eat.
"Is there anything you want to do while you're here?" asked Keiko, while Kira ate. "Yoshi needs some new clothes to send with him to daycare, if you wanted to help me shop in the capital. Or one of the agricultural techs told me there's a hiking path up the ridge overlooking the research fields. It leads to the temple he goes to, he said."
The thought of going to the capital seemed overwhelming, but getting some exercise and spending time at a temple — that sounded perfect. "Let's do that," said Kira, "at least if you don't mind me dropping in at the temple for a little while."
Keiko tilted her head. "We wouldn't be — I don't know, interrupting something?"
"It's unlikely. The vedek — if there's one there — will probably be glad for the visitors. Things get quiet after Peldor, usually." Bareil had joked about it, that once people felt unburdened, they started slacking on going to services, at least until they started feeling burdened again.
"Then let's do it," said Keiko. "Miles, comm us if anything comes up?"
"I will," said Miles. He had a giggling Yoshi propped on his hip. "Yoshi, tell Kira that if Keiko spends too long looking at the trees, it's okay to tell her to get a move on."
Yoshi smacked one tiny scrunched-up first into Miles's chest and laughed.
"Thank you, Yoshi, I'll keep that in mind," Kira said, very seriously. She wanted to ruffle his short, unruly hair, but she didn't.
The hike up to the temple was through land that had been densely forested fifty years ago, devastated ten years ago, and was now, slowly, returning to what it had once been. Keiko pointed out interesting plants almost like a reflex, apologizing multiple times for explaining Bajor's biology to an actual Bajoran. Kira laughed. "Keiko, I promise it's fine. I know the names of some of these plants and where to find edible ones, but I'm no botanist and you are."
"This is probably the planet whose botany I know the most about, after Earth," said Keiko. "On the Enterprise I almost exclusively did field reports on first contact scenarios — which is a great way to see lots of new things, but after awhile you start to miss getting to sit down and understand the whole ecology of a place without worrying about having to warp to the next sector in three days."
"Was that one of the reasons you and Miles left the Enterprise?"
"That, and Molly," said Keiko. "We didn't like the idea of her growing up almost alone on a ship with such an eventful charter. Especially after the Borg. Miles liked the idea of getting as far away from all that as possible."
"And then you ended up on the front line against the Dominion," said Kira dryly.
"It's true things didn't end up as uneventful on DS9 as we'd hoped," Keiko said, "but if we could go back, I wouldn't change it." Her expression went contemplative, though. "Have you spoken to Kassidy? She's settled down on the other side of the planet, but she promised to visit once traveling with Sarah is a little easier."
"I haven't. I should," said Kira. It had seemed — presumptuous? "Has she settled in alright?"
"She has. Though she's had to make it clear she won't talk about Sisko with anyone besides this one vedek she's decided is alright. She said people respect that, though. I think she understands it all more than she lets on."
Kira couldn't think of anything to say. What was there to say? Sisko's role as the Emissary had taken him away from the woman he loved and his unborn child, and there was a plain unfairness to that to Kassidy, and it was a relief in a strange, guilty way to hear that Kassidy understood. That perhaps she didn't resent the Prophets for it.
"I don't," said Keiko. "Understand, I mean."
"Kassidy?"
"Religion. Faith," said Keiko. "Any of it."
"If you're worried about that while living on Bajor, I promise you don't have to," said Kira. "The Bajorans you're working with won't expect you to believe. And some of them might not be believers themselves. Most of us are religious, but not all of us."
"It's not that, exactly," said Keiko. "I know it won't matter for working here, and that should be enough for me to stop thinking about it. Miles says that part of being a good engineer is knowing what you need to understand and what you don't."
"You're not an engineer, though," said Kira. She was thinking idly of Bashir, and Dax, and Lenara Khan — and that the one thing they really had in common was all of their questions. "You're a scientist. You want to understand everything." She understood now — this was Keiko's roundabout way of sounding out what she could ask. "If you have questions, it's okay to ask. I'll answer the best I can. I can't promise you'll find what I have to say all that satisfying, though." Between the two of them, Keiko and Miles, Kira was entirely more like Miles. There were things that were important and things that weren't. The Prophets were important. Understanding them wasn't.
"Only if you promise to throw something at me if I'm offensive," said Keiko. "What? I'm serious! If you don't tell me, I'll probably, I don't know, offend the Kai one day or something!"
"I highly doubt you can come up with a question more offensive than the Cardassian occupation," Kira said, "but -- I appreciate where you're coming from. I'll tell you if you ask me something you shouldn't ask a vedek."
"So, the soul," said Keiko. "You really think someone like — I don't know, like Dukat — his soul could be purified?"
"Really starting with the hard stuff. But yes," said Kira, "I do. Theoretically."
"How?"
Kira shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know. He was mad by the time he died. Corrupted by the pah-wraiths. And he was a cruel man before that — of all the Cardassians I've met and hated, I think he was the worst of them."
"So you believe he could be purified even if you don't know how?"
"Yep."
Keiko made a sound of scientific frustration. "See, this is where I don't get it!"
"It's just… not my responsibility to know," said Kira. "That's to up to Dukat and the Prophets. My soul is my responsibility, and his was his."
That made Keiko laugh, but not in a mocking way. "So the mysteries are the Prophets' job, not yours?"
"That's not a bad way to put it," said Kira. And then, "Kind of like what Miles said about engineering, one thing you learn running a space station is that it's important to know whose job is whose, and not to let people take on responsibilities that aren't theirs without a really good reason."
Keiko smacked Kira's arm. "You should say that to Miles when we're back. He'll get a kick out of it," she said.
The temple was clearly ahead of them now. There were lanterns lit in the windows, a thin plume of smoke rising from somewhere — someone was there, almost certainly the vedek. "Well, looks like you'll be able to ask someone a little more spiritually qualified than me," said Kira.
"Well," said Keiko, "if you think they really won't mind…"
The vedek was a woman only a little older than Kira. She welcomed them in and offered them cold tea to drink. Kira had been right, that things had been quiet since Peldor — "But I expect more visitors once the agricultural scientists have started their work in earnest," said the vedek. "You would both be welcome to services, of course." She said it with the wry awareness that Keiko was a clear non-believer, and that Kira had already mentioned she was on shore leave from the station.
"I wish I could," said Kira. "If I'm back here sometime…"
The vedek smiled. "I can offer my counsel and prayer with you now, should you wish it."
"I would, very much," said Kira, but she looked to Keiko first. "But, if you don't mind, my friend actually has some questions about religion."
"I really do," said Keiko.
Unexpectedly, the vedek rose. "Will you then walk with me, Keiko O'Brien? The courtyard is quite pleasant." To Kira, "The prayer chamber is through this hall. May I join you once I've spoken to your friend?"
"Of course," said Kira, and watched Keiko leave with the vedek, already rushing through her questions. She finished her tea and went to the prayer chamber with a warm uncertainty settling over her.
Kira lost track of time in meditation — she couldn't say how long it was before the vedek came to her. By the difference in the shadows in the courtyard, had it been an hour? Keiko had returned to the sitting room to drink tea and flip through some religious texts the vedek had selected for her. Kira and the vedek walked the courtyard together in silence for some time before the vedek asked her what it was like, being back on Bajor.
"Sometimes I resent it," Kira admitted. "Being away. I fought for Bajor to be free, and now that it is, what am I doing still working on a space station? From the way you're looking at me I know you know the answer, too. I'm still fighting because someone needs to."
"Perhaps it's not fighting anymore. Perhaps it's -- guarding. Safe-keeping."
"What difference does it really make?" No good guard wouldn't be ready for a fight at any time, after all.
"If you believe you are fighting, any step away shall seem a retreat," said the vedek. "Your time here on Bajor shall feel an abandonment of the front."
"What, and if I'm on guard duty, I'm not abandoning my post?"
A clever smile from the vedek — always a little reassuring, a little worrying at the same time. "When I was with the resistance," she said, with mock thoughtfulness, "I was taught no guard can keep her attention keen forever, and that duty-rotations are essential. Did your cell teach otherwise?"
"I did a lot of work alone," said Kira.
"Hmm," said the vedek. "Well, once it's possible to serve as colonel alone, your learnings from your independent operations should transfer well. Until then, perhaps recall our old duty-rotation schedules, and keep them well in mind?"
Which Kira smiled at, and, in a deflection so obvious that Ezri could probably psychically sense from a distance, changed the subject. "Keiko. What did you think of her?"
"A very scientific woman," said the vedek. "Keen to understand you, I think."
"I don't think it's me she wants to understand, I think it's the Prophets," said Kira. "Or if not the Prophets, then our worship of them. I don't think it bothered her so much when she lived on the station, but now that she's actually on Bajor, I think it's different."
"She told me you saved her son's life by carrying him as a surrogate, at great risk of your own well-being."
Mostly just at great risk to my ankles, thought Kira, and my sanity, but that was more glib than the vedek deserved. "I did. And I'm glad every day that I did, even if — even if it was harder than I thought it would be."
The vedek sat under the great blooming tree in the center of the courtyard, and Kira sat next to her, her hands folded in her lap. The great restlessness that had been stuck inside her ever since she'd made it planet-side had finally started to die down, but in its place came something like fear. "I knew it was dangerous, but Dr. Bashir — the chief medical officer — I trusted him, and we didn't have much time to decide whether to try it or not. And giving Yoshi up, after I'd carried him for so long…" It still hurt, when she thought about it for too long. "But I kind of expected all that. But I — Vedek, I think I nearly had an affair with her husband?"
"Hmm," said the vedek.
"I know that kind of sounds crazy, but I moved in with them after I became their surrogate, and Miles and I — we'd never really spent that much time together alone, and I think he felt so bad that I was putting myself at risk for their child, and protective of Yoshi, and we got too close. That's the plain truth of it. We spent too much time together, and we got too close."
"And you think his wife didn't notice?" asked the vedek, placidly.
"I can't think of any other explanation," said Kira. "She tried to send us on a weekend getaway in the mountains together."
"Keiko O'Brien seems to me to be a very capable and intelligent woman," said the vedek. "She told me of being possessed by a pah-wraith once, and recovering with her soul intact."
"That's Keiko alright. I can't imagine the pah-wraith had an easy time keeping control of her," said Keiko. It had been terrifying at the time, but, with the pah-wraiths sealed, it was easier to think about now.
"Hmm," said the vedek, and seemed to have no more to say about Keiko O'Brien.
The hike back from the temple was more downhill than up, and they made good time, both more quiet than the way up. It didn't feel awkward or anything, even though Kira was certain they both had questions for each other, though probably about different things.
"How was it?" Miles asked, when they got back.
"It was very nice," said Keiko, and dropped a kiss against the side of his head. "I learned that religion is mostly about appropriate delegation of responsibilities."
Miles looked at Kira.
"I think that's more or less accurate," she said, and she felt — impossibly fond.
This seemed to be enough for Miles to mentally file the conversation under 'things I don't need to understand.' "Well, I'm glad you had a good time," he said. "Molly is playing with the neighbor girls somewhere, and Yoshi's been settled for an hour. So if we're lucky, we'll have another hour or two of peace and quiet."
"What do people even do with peace and quiet?" asked Keiko. "I think I've forgotten. We must have done something before we had children." She looked to Miles, who shrugged, and then to Kira. "I guess you're no help, either. Julian tells us you've been keeping twice as busy as Sisko ever did up there."
"Well, there's been a lot to do," said Kira.
Miles, for his part, had mostly returned his attentions to the PADDs piled up around them. "I've been trying to figure out a good curriculum for the new students," he said, "one that minimizes the probability any of them try to kill each other. What do you teach twenty engineering students, most of them Bajoran or Cardassian, some of them Starfleet, some of them Bajoran Militia, and some of them Science Ministry?"
"You should take them to the station for a day," said Kira. "I'd sign off on it. Starfleet would too, I'm sure."
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to disrupt operations — and I remember too damned well there's only so much space to work in the habitat systems, which is probably what we'd be starting with."
Kira shrugged. "I'm sure ops could make it work in exchange for borrowing your expertise for a little while — the station's certainly stable, but you know as much about its quirks as anyone. Wait, did anyone tell you what happened to the transporter system last month? It was weird, there was this burst of radiation from the wormhole right when ops was starting maintenance on the replicators, and—"
"Oh, I think I can tell where this is going," said Miles. "Don't tell me, it was—"
From the couch, Keiko groaned loudly into her hands. "How are you both somehow still working? Nerys, aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"
Kira laughed. "I guess. But to quote someone whose judgment I trust, what do people even do with peace and quiet? I guess I forgot, too." She dropped into one of the standard issue arm chairs, and she watched Miles fiddle with his PADDs some more, and she was glad to be off of her feet for a little while.
Was this really what she'd been avoiding, staying so busy on the station? A moment of peace and quiet with nothing to do? Why? Because — because it would have been alone? This, now — it felt normal. Comfortable. Something she'd miss, back on the station.
"Thank you for having me, by the way," said Kira. "I'm glad I came."
"We're glad you came," said Keiko.
Miles cleared his throat. "We are."
Not a minute later Yoshi started crying from the bedroom. "I've got it," said Miles, before either Kira or Keiko could react; he was already standing, a PADD tucked under his arm.
"Great. Kira, you should go with him," said Keiko.
"Should I?" said Kira.
"Yeah, should — oh, alright," said Miles, who'd apparently seen something in Keiko's expression that he didn't feel like fighting. "Come on then, he'll only get louder."
For a surreal moment Kira remembered bickering with Miles, while she'd been carrying Kirayoshi, and the many times Keiko had stepped in to make them figure out what they were actually fighting about. Except they hadn't been fighting. Still, it was enough to make Kira follow Miles into the bedroom, where he was rubbing Yoshi's back and murmuring to him. Kira watched from the doorway for a few minutes, until Yoshi had mostly quieted.
"I really am glad I came here," said Kira. "It's been a really long time since I just — took some time off."
"We're glad to have you too. Any time, Nerys," said Miles. He was bobbing Yoshi up and down gently, but his brow was furrowed with concentration. "Has Keiko talked to you about—" He winced and looked away. "Ah, even if you — well, no matter what. Just so you know you don't have to agree to anything. What you did for Yoshi — you're always welcome here."
Kira turned this over in her head for a moment. Crossed her arms and thought about what the vedek had told her up in the temple. About being afraid to be alone with Miles again, betraying Keiko. And the way the vedek's silence had implied, What if she knows? What if she's known the whole time and she cares for you in such a way, too? She took a deep breath. "So, should we take Yoshi out to have a conversation about me dating you both, or do you want to use him as an excuse to let me talk about it with Keiko alone?"
"Let's do the last one," said Miles. "It's really, really going to go better if Keiko just does the talking."
Even though Miles hadn't really said whatever it was Keiko had probably had in mind, something in Kira's expression satisfied Keiko enough to take Kira's hand when she sat down. Her hands were warm and, like Kira's, not particularly soft. "One of the things I asked the vedek about was Bajoran non-monogamy practices," said Keiko, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You know, that clarifies a couple of cryptic things she said to me," said Kira, and squeezed Keiko's hand. The feeling of surreality was back, though this time it wasn't because the moment reminded Kira of something that had already happened. It was something entirely the opposite, somehow.
"It won't be easy!" said Keiko. "I know that. You're on the station, and we know you're not leaving any time soon, and we're down here and not leaving any time soon. Even when you have leave, there's emergencies. Plans change."
"And you're both just as bad about work as I am," said Kira.
"I wouldn't go that far," said Keiko, "but maybe we're not that far off."
"And the kids," said Kira.
"And the kids!" But Keiko still had Kira's hand held between hers, and she hadn't let go. "Look, we're adults, all of us, and we know things can be hard. But we want this, if you do. Miles does too, even though he's—" Keiko raised her voice. "—avoiding this conversation!"
From the bedroom, Miles's voice: "I told Nerys it would go better if you did the talking!"
"He did," said Kira.
Keiko rolled her eyes, but she looked very fond while she did it.
"I think," said Kira, "that between the three of us, we have a lot of experience doing hard things. If I'm honest, I think I haven't felt like anything was easy in a long time. But I — I think I want this too. I want to try."
Keiko did not pump her fist and hiss "yes" under her breath the same way like Julian during his second year on the station finally getting a date, but her expression was kind of similar. "Okay," said Keiko, "great, that's good. Um. Miles, are you listening?"
"Yes, I've been bloody listening," said Miles.
"Language!" said Keiko.
"We can swear in front of Yoshi for at least another month," Miles said darkly. He sat next to Keiko and passed Yoshi to her, and it was his turn to take Kira's hand in his. "I think there's a chance this all blows up in our faces," he said. "I hope it doesn't. But I want you to know even if it does, we want you in Kirayoshi's life, at least as long as you want to, you know, be there." He looked queasy.
It was — so unbelievably thoughtful of a thing to say, and clearly something Miles had to fight to say, and Kira didn't quite trust herself to say anything. She bent her head over her hands, and Miles's hands, and stayed there for a moment, until her breathing came back even, which was a long time. But Miles waited.
Kira had, left to her, three more days on Bajor. She ended up in the city the day after the trip with Keiko to the temple — she'd apologized and offered to cancel it, in light of everything, but Keiko waved her off. "No, no, get out of here, clear your head," she said. "The last thing we want is you feeling stuck with us on your own home planet. Send a comm if you get delayed." In the city Kira dropped in on the friends she'd not seen during the Gratitude Festival, shook hands with the politicians she was supposed to shake hands with, and enjoyed it all, even if the scars of the past decade seemed obvious everywhere. That was one reason Ezri was right, and she did have to make it to Bajor more often: it was too easy to pretend, from the safety of the station, that things were better than they were. Bajor was still healing. It would be for a long time. Kira didn't have to stay away just because she felt like she was barely holding herself together — that was just how almost everyone felt.
Still, it was a relief to get back to the Starfleet housing, even if when Kira opened the door, it was to two children screaming and crying. She swept a red-faced Kirayoshi away from Miles and calmed him down outside while Keiko and Miles figured out what Molly was so worked up about — something about school, still unclear to them by the time she'd decided she was ready for dinner and didn't want to talk about it anymore. When she brought a quiet, dozing Kirayoshi inside, Keiko kissed her cheek and then said "Thank you" with such intensity that Kira almost laughed.
"We promise we're not dating you just for the additional childcare," said Miles, as Keiko took Kirayoshi away to his crib. "But I won't lie. I'm grateful for it."
"I'm glad he'll grow up here," said Kira, "on a Bajor that's unoccupied. He'll never know it any other way."
"I wonder how much Molly will remember," said Miles.
"Kids remember weird things. Probably less than you'd think but more than you'd hope at the same time, somehow."
Miles laughed to himself, one of those short self-deprecating laughs she recognized from watching him troubleshoot tricky bits of the station. "I was just thinking of what I remember from her age. I reckon it's more pleasant than what you've got to think of."
"I'd still like to hear about it sometime. Both of you."
Keiko re-emerged from the bedroom, Molly holding her hand. "What do you want to hear about?" It was Keiko who asked the question, but Molly looked significantly more curious about the answer.
"We were talking about what we remember from when we were a little younger than you, Molly," said Kira. "I bet you remember lots of things from when you lived on the station, right?"
Molly lit up, and started talking as fast as Kira had ever heard her — it was funny to remember this was the same little girl who'd been melting down twenty minutes ago, but kids were adaptable like that. She talked all through helping them put together dinner, about the big captain and the funny doctor and the Klingon who fought all the other Klingons for them.
When Keiko took Molly to settle down for sleep, Miles said, "My childhood definitely wasn't that eventful. I don't think I realized Molly's childhood was that eventful. Do you think she'll be okay? I didn't realize she remembered that thing with the portal."
"I think she'll be just fine," said Kira. "And if not, you can make Ezri fix her."
Which made Miles groan and pinch the bridge of his nose, and Kira laugh. "Alright. You can help me with the dishes for that one."
The afternoon Kira left Bajor, Keiko was stuck in a meeting with her botanists. Molly was at school — her first day since arriving on Bajor — and Yoshi stayed asleep in his stroller the entire shuttle ride to the spaceport. "I'm telling you," said Miles, "it's something about being born on the station. Nothing gets him to sleep faster than the sound of ships and machines."
"If you bring him to the station when you visit, we can see if he'll fall asleep in Ops again," said Kira.
"I'd bet on it," said Miles, and smiled, probably remembering, too, Sisko's reaction to finding Kirayoshi there.
It was a three-hour shuttle back to the station, and the station time was synced just a few hours off from local time — it would be late when she got back, not so late that Quark's would be closed, but late enough she could turn in without running into Julian or Ezri. She wondered briefly if Julian already knew, or if his and Miles's particular kind of friendship was the sort where it wouldn't come up until they were in a holosuite a year from now. She thought about asking and then decided it didn't matter. "I'll comm you guys when I'm back safe and sound," she said, outside the shuttle boarding. "I can probably take a few days leave again in a month, unless something important blows up or someone important dies."
"If too many things blow up we'll find a way to come to you," said Miles. He looked like he had to screw his courage up for it, but he kissed her then, and squeezed her shoulder with the hand he wasn't using to rock Kirayoshi's stroller. "We'll all miss you. Don't be a stranger."
On the shuttle back Kira caught up on the non-urgent messages that Ro had forwarded during leave. More drama from the Andorian freight captain. Allegations from security that someone had been smuggling contraband kanar onto the station in aid deliveries. Kira typed out action plans and responses and thought about being home soon. About how she was leaving home behind her now, too. But it would be alright. She was leaving now, but after a while she'd be back. In the eyes of the Prophets, after all, there wasn't any before or after for anything. Part of her was still on Bajor. Part of her was still with Miles, with Keiko, with Molly and Yoshi. That was how it was. That was how it would always be. The Prophets had steered her this far. They would continue to. She'd forgotten that, and remembered. She'd forget again, and remember again.
When the shuttle arrived at the station, Kira went straight to observation to look out over the wormhole. It was station night, and she was alone. She said a small prayer of gratitude. And Kira Nerys went back to work.