Chapter 1

I am definitely starting to waddle, Kasidy thought as she made her way through the narrow aisle. The crates stacked to either side, physically held in place by a system of webs and strapping, loomed above her in the cargo pod. This might have to be my last trip — unless we start making wider paths between the boxes.

Pausing long enough to read the labeling on one of the crates, she did a quick check of the manifest PADD. It matched.

Glancing upward, she tucked the PADD into her pocket and grabbed one of the web straps, preparing to climb up the pile of supplies.

“Captain Yates, wait!” shouted an alarmed voice.

Faren Gale, again. Closing her eyes for a second and groaning inwardly, Kasidy turned toward the young crewman, who was frantically all but crab-crawling over the cargo to reach her before she could get a foot off the deck.

“You should not be climbing at such a time! Let me—”

“Gale,” she said as patiently as she could, “I am not an invalid, and I am quite as capable of using the webbing as I have always been — and just in case, we keep the gravity set low in the bay during transport to minimize injuries if someone does fall.”

“But....” His gaze strayed to her belly, and she felt the familiar frustration.

The baby. Always the baby. Because she was Benjamin Sisko’s wife, and she carried his child. And the Bajorans considered Ben their promised Emissary. And the Emissary’s wife could not be allowed to risk herself or her unborn child.

As if she would risk that precious, beloved part of them both!

There were times she thought the only way she could just be a woman, a mother, a ship captain, and Benjamin Sisko’s widow, would be to leave Bajor!

And as if saying she was just as annoyed as her mother, Kasidy felt motion inside. She couldn’t help smiling reflexively, one hand moving to rest on her swollen abdomen.

She saw Faren’s eyes widen, and then he smiled as if he’d just had some kind of religious experience.

He saw you move, didn’t he? she thought toward the baby. That won’t take long to get around....

“I will complete the inventory, Captain Yates,” Faren insisted.

“Oh, all right,” she sighed, and surrendered the PADD.

She found her executive officer waiting for her just outside the cargo pod hatch, arms crossed, expression as forbidding as she ever recalled seeing. But then, his lean features, deep-set eyes, and the streaks of silver at his temples always gave him a somewhat dour, unapproachable look.

“All right, Aenko, what is it?” she asked, feeling a little impatient and in no mood to have to drag out whatever it was he had to say.

“Word from Captain Olara; they’ll be arriving on Bajor within a few hours, cargo intact. We should be arriving at Deep Space Nine shortly after midnight, station time. We could be in orbit of home by midday tomorrow, assuming no delays or layovers.”

“No layovers?” she repeated, tilting her head to stare up at him. “Are you seriously suggesting this crew would pass up the chance to celebrate part of the Peldor festival on the station?”

“If I didn’t know how uncomfortable it makes you to be known as ‘the Emissary’s wife,’ I would have wondered why you chose to be away from home at this time. But,” he continued, “knowing you, I suspect it was the best way to avoid being pressured into presiding over one or the other of the celebrations.”

“You got that right. But I know how disappointed some of the crew were that we weren’t going to be home for the festival. I won’t deprive them of the chance to celebrate part of it on ‘the Emissary’s station.’ ”

“Nor deprive yourself of a chance to see old friends,” Vinj noted.

She had to smile at that. She knew Kira took the festival very seriously — and would be taking some time off duty to enjoy it — as would other friends on the station. It was the one day of the year she could be certain of spending time with them.

“You’re right on that, too, Aenko. But from the look on your face, I get the feeling you have more on your mind than Olara’s message or the possibility of spending a few hours on the station. What is it?”

He pursed his thin lips and shrugged. “Our scanners seem to be ... acting up.”

“What do you mean?” She turned down the long corridor that ran the greater length of the ship, into which each of the bulky cargo bays connected, with the bridge and sub-light equipment at one end, and the warp-drive engines at the other.

“We’re not sure. Every now and then we seem to be picking up some anomalous readings — but never long enough to be sure. Of equal concern, we’re not picking up the full spectrum we should be for the Letharan asteroid belt — we’re getting some static at the high end.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a nuisance problem, but it needs to be fixed before we enter the asteroid belt.”

“Yes. Sindelar’s running diagnostics and trying to recalibrate.”

“Good. We’ll halt until the problem’s fixed.” She nodded and thought, then continued. “Sindelar seems to be doing well; I think he’s going to work out.”

“I had my concerns,” Vinj admitted. “He’s older than most first-time spacers, but he certainly knows his equipment.”

“You were older than most first-time spacers too, as I recall,” Kasidy reminded him.

“The Cardassians forced many of us to defer the dreams of our youth,” he replied distantly. “It was no different in the Badlands than on Bajor and in the refugee camps.”

She touched his shoulder. “I understand that all too well,” she acknowledged quietly.

The rare half-smile on his face still carried a lifetime of sadness as he nodded. “We did what we could.”

They continued in silence. Kasidy couldn’t help recalling that Vinj had been equally involved with the smuggling for the Maquis as she had been — he hadn’t been her executive officer then, but he’d been part of her crew. It had been a decision to send him ahead to check out their rendezvous site that resulted in his not being aboard the Xhosa when she was arrested. She and the rest of her crew had been incarcerated. He had stayed with the Maquis for a few months, then made his way back to Bajor, not far ahead of the Dominion massacre.

Olara, her XO at that time, now captained another ship, but still reported to Kasidy in her role as a senior commerce liaison.

They reached the small bridge, stooping to clear the hatch.

“Any progress, Sindelar?” Vinj called.

“I may have,” the small man replied. “Could you take a look at the current readings?”

Knowing Vinj would tell her if there any continuing problems, Kasidy headed for her chair, tucked just to the side and a little above the deck, to be out of the way but with a clear view of all stations. She could tell before she reached it that Dellin had replaced the herb cushion on the seat again — she started sneezing. Dellin might deny it, but the captain was sure the woman kept restuffing the cushion with fresh herbs, and every time she did, Kasidy would have another allergy attack that would last for several hours. The current sudden bout of sneezing was so hard and deep she had to grab the arm of the chair to stop from doubling over, her other hand clutching her abdomen in some instinctive fear that if she sneezed too hard, the baby would come now.

Eleven sneezes.

When they finally stopped, and she was able to stand up and breathe again, she saw the crew’s eyes all attentively glued to her — even the non-Bajoran ones, who were merely amazed at the volume and sheer number of sneezes, rather than counting and looking for mystical connections. They all quickly looked elsewhere or returned to their duties as she glared around the small bridge.

She dropped into her chair, exhausted and all but gasping for breath, then sneezed once more for good measure.

From morning sickness to sneezing fits.... These cushions have got to go.... Darna’s got to stop doing this, she’s going to kill me or send me into labor....

She couldn’t help sniffling.

“Captain Yates, would you like some ginger tea?”

Kasidy glanced at Pokel. “Thanks, Temma....” She took the mug from the teenager — the girl was turning out to be more of a godsend every day, worshipful gaze notwithstanding. She savored the steam for a moment, letting it calm her nose, before she began to sip. The warmth of the liquid soothed her throat all the way down.

“Kasidy,” Vinj reported, crossing the deck with his long steps, “we’re getting clean scans again.”

“Good.” She studied him a second, then concluded his expression was more than his normal grim distance. “You don’t sound pleased.”

He raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. “We didn’t find a cause for the sensor ghosts and static. It suddenly cleared up, for no more reason than it started.”

“Hmm.” She couldn’t help a little frown; from his expression, she could see he shared her concern. “Well, keep monitoring it. We’ll be back at the station in a few hours. I’ll ask Nog to run a full system check for us after the festival, and we’ll put the Xhosa in drydock if it looks like there’s any mechanical problems. Now, let’s go — we’ve got to reach the station before Peldor’s over!” She took another sip of ginger tea.

“Tesra Peblor impatri bren. Bentel vetan ullon sten....”

Kira carefully poured the two liquids into their receptacle. Mingling together, they glowed a neon blue as they flowed eagerly down the clear spiral glass until they ran into the brazier at the end — and flared up into the flames of renewal. Behind the dais, the temple chimes rang out. Above them all, fringed banners hung, swaying gently in the created breeze of the station’s air circulation system. The smell of burning bateret leaves and y’rtana incense filled the Promenade. The crowd clapped and cheers rang out, until Kira formally raised her hands again, and the voices stilled.

“We stand together at this festival of gratitude to the Prophets, to celebrate renewal, to leave old griefs behind us, and to begin a new year.” She paused, contemplating. “The year that has passed has left us much grief — we have fought a war, and the Emissary has left us. But the war is over. The Emissary has joined the Prophets, and left us hope in the form of his child, the rebirth and future of all peoples.”

She picked up the ceremonial first renewal scroll and took a deep breath. “With these scrolls, may all our griefs and troubles be turned to ashes, and our sorrow be turned to joy, peace, and new beginnings.”

She raised the scroll for a second for them all to see, then dropped it into the fire. The crowd cheered again, this time more thoughtfully.

“And now,” Kira concluded with a wide smile, “may we all enjoy the next twenty-six hours, and walk with the Prophets!”

She stepped down from the dais and joined several of her friends as the crowd variously scattered and mingled. All were in civilian attire for a change, rank and formality set aside for the freedom of the Peldor festival. Having formally opened the festival, as ranking Bajoran officer, Kira Nerys was now free to participate and enjoy the day with the others. Ezri Dax had spent the morning with several others, setting out the scroll baskets that were now scattered throughout the Promenade and the habitat ring. Pryen Maki and Caryn Bilecki had gotten off duty only an hour before.

Across the Promenade from the clustered women, musicians began to play again, and a small troupe of gymnasts flipped, rolled, and cartwheeled across the main level.

“Not bad, although the woman in the slashed purple needs to watch her center of balance or she could lose it and trip the man behind her,” Dax remarked, watching the tumblers with a critical eye.

“Is that Ezri talking, or Emony?” Kira teased lightly.

Dax looked startled, then rolled her eyes, a little troubled. For a second Kira thought she was going to say something, then she shook her head and seemed to force a smile.

They all saw Morn at the same time, crossing the wide Promenade with Dr. Monrow on his arm, heading toward Quark’s.

“Funny,” Dax quickly changed the subject, “I couldn’t say why, but she didn’t strike me as Morn’s type....”

“Just because you and Monrow don’t get along....” Kira shook her head.

“I don’t know what Jadzia saw in him,” Bilecki said thoughtfully, watching the couple. “I mean, sure, he’s funny and sweet and attractive and all, but really, I couldn’t see Morn as anything but a friend — a good friend, yes, he’d do anything for a person, but....”

“I never dated ... well, Jadzia never actually dated him,” Dax reminded her. “But I think it was that rakish, devil-may-care exterior attitude of his, with his sensitive and poetic soul, that attracted her.”

Pryen nodded thoughtfully. “Mmmm. I remember Bennu once saying how jealous he used to be, that so many women found Morn irresistible — and that when his relationships ended, they always seemed to stay on such good terms.”

Bilecki had to smile, the expression lighting up her otherwise ordinary features. “Earth’s history is full of stories of women falling for space pirates with hearts of latinum.”

“You mean it was common?” Kira asked incredulously.

“I hate to have to tell them this, but in my experience pirates generally don’t have hearts of latinum,” Dax said wryly.

Bilecki quipped back, still grinning, “It probably wasn’t that common, but it made a good romantic story — even if it was a little contrived!”

They all laughed. Then:

“All right,” Dax said, ”Bennu’s on atonement pilgrimage, so that means you’re free, Maki. The Xhosa’s not due back until tomorrow morning, so Caryn’s available tonight. Julian’s still on Bajor so I’ve got no personal plans. Nerys is actually taking an evening off, miracle of miracles. So, how shall we all amuse ourselves for the next few hours?”

“Quark’s?” offered Bilecki.

“Too crowded,” Pryen shook her head. “But how about Vic’s?”

“Mmmm, later. But first, how about ... a holosuite adventure!” Dax rejoined, eyes brightening impishly.

“Oh, no,” murmured Kira, stopping in her tracks. “I really shouldn’t—“

“Nerys, you need some time off. Counselor’s orders. For today, we are just friends celebrating the Peldor festival together. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t have to kiss Lancelot or take a lance at Thermopylae,” the elfin Trill assured her. “Julian’s certain-death programs are off-limits for today, and so is Camelot. But I think I know just the thing — it’s a new one — and you won’t have to worry about dressing up — much. We can replicate the costumes in the changing room....”

Linking her arm with Kira’s, Dax steered them all toward Quark’s.

“Entering the asteroid belt,” Vinj announced.

Kasidy set down the mug. The ginger tea had been just the thing; she felt a lot better already.

“Would you like more?” Pokel asked earnestly.

“No, thank you, Temma. That was just right.”

The girl nodded and took the empty mug away.

Kasidy leaned back again, wondering if it would be a problem if she brought a footstool of some kind onto the bridge. She’d been on her feet for over two hours going through the cargo manifest, until Faren took over — hijacked the job, she amended to herself — and her feet were starting to complain. She’d had problems with ankle and foot swelling and soreness for several months now, pretty much since she got over the morning sickness. No real complications to the pregnancy, just enough physical changes to remind her of her condition on a regular basis. She sighed; maybe it really was time to settle into that office Minister Azin kept urging her to take, and let Vinj become captain of the Xhosa in name as well as general responsibility. He was certainly qualified, and the crew was as used to obeying his orders as hers.

She would miss her ship. But it wouldn’t be forever. Unless, of course—

Kasidy glanced forward, frowning. All of a sudden, something felt wrong again. She heard her XO murmur an order to Murtin before shifting his attention back to Sindelar’s console.

“Aenko, what is it?”

“Hmm....” Vinj leaned over the smaller man. “I’m slowing the ship. Our scanners again. This makes no sense....”

The captain levered herself carefully out of her chair. Time to get back to work. “The anomalous ghosts? Or the static?”

“Both,” he replied briefly.

In the cramped, narrow bridge, a few steps took her to the console. She’d barely glanced at the screens before something began to nibble at the back of her mind, working its way into her thoughts.

“That looks—“

“Like jamming,” Vinj finished for her.

They exchanged glances.

“Who’d be jamming the asteroid belt?” Sindelar piped up, his usually soft and controlled voice sounding agitated.

“And just as importantly, who are they intending to jam?” Kasidy didn’t realize her voice had dropped to just above a whisper, until Vinj replied in kind.

“If we can believe the readings, it’s a narrow band, through the asteroid belt.” His low tone carried foreboding. “Right along our course.”

“Did you spot anything else out there?” Kasidy asked. She could feel everyone’s eyes on them as a surge of adrenaline rushed through her body.

“No — but just now, I don’t trust anything we see. Somebody’s out there,” he replied starkly.

“Is it exactly the same as before?”

“Yes. I should have recognized it before we entered the belt....”

“Just because it’s along our course, doesn’t mean it was meant for us,” she interjected.

“All the same—“

“Yes. We’re getting out of here. Ryltee, get us out of the belt,” Kasidy ordered the navigator.

Murtin Ryltee nodded, his skillful fingers already moving.

The proximity alarm went off just as the ship slammed violently beneath their feet. Something had hit the ship. Everyone grabbed for anything in reach. The bridge went dark. Multiple screams echoed through the chamber.

Kasidy felt something at her waist, something else encircling her right side, pulling her, and let out a scream of her own.

The lights came back, a little dimmer than they had been, but amply bright to eyes trying to adjust to the abrupt changes.

Kasidy discovered she was sandwiched between Vinj, who had one arm around her waist and his free hand clutching the support girder between the navigation and scan stations, and Sindelar, who’d jumped out of his chair to practically wrap himself around her, one leg leaning on his console and the other still braced against his seat. As she should have expected, both Bajoran men had reacted to the ... attack, if that’s what it was, by moving to protect her.

“Kasidy—“

“Captain Yates—“

“I’m all right,” she said, a little breathlessly, pushing them both away. “Back to your posts! Get us out of here!”

“Get us where?” she heard a call from practically at her feet. Murtin scrabbled back to his console and grabbed his chair to pull himself to his own feet and into his seat.

“Anywhere that puts an asteroid between us and whatever just hit us.”

She scanned her bridge.

Vinj and Sindelar were both obviously unharmed, and had quickly returned to work, trying to figure out what was going on.

Murtin was back at the conn, and she could feel the Xhosa already moving again.

Pokel knelt beside Kasidy’s chair, arms still wrapped around it, looking as scared as a seventeen-year-old girl was entitled to be, in her first experience like this.

Cartier, her main engineer, who’d spent a few years in Starfleet before retiring into civilian service, was already back on his feet and checking the read-outs on ship’s systems.

“Whatever it is, it must have been too far away to do us much real damage,” he reported. “Or else we just caught the residuals of an asteroid strike. Our basic shielding held. Power’s flowing smoothly again, just a second’s disruption. Engine’s online. None of the cargo pods ruptured, quarters are reading undamaged, and our emergency systems all seem to have gone back to standby.”

“Good! Let’s get some more distance between us so the next shot doesn’t hurt us any more than they already have. And keep something between us and them. If an asteroid saved us this time, we’ll want to keep the shield. What about everybody else? Who’s all checked in? Any word from Rosha?”

Something hit them again.

Chapter 2