Kira materialized on the broad plaza on the hill overlooking the heart of Peri’ketra. To one side of the vast expanse was the Assembly Hall, where both the Chamber of Ministers and the Vedek Assembly met. On the opposite side was a new museum dedicated to collecting the archives of the resistance and the liberation. The other two sides were open — one was the edge of a park of natural grasses, wildflowers, trees, narrow paths, and small ponds and rivulets; the other revealed the city spreading across the plain, below the waterfall that had been a glory of the city for centuries.

The capital had always been beautiful, in Kira’s eyes. It was a city of tall, graceful structures, of temples and memorials, interspersed with glorious obelisks, with pools and fountains, and with open parks that were a profusion of color and scent. The sound of running water was everywhere. The plazas were paved with multicolored stone in shapes and designs of ancient significance. History and modernity combined in elegant ways. Over the years since the end of the Cardassian occupation, it had become even more so, as Bajor rebuilt what had been broken down and shattered, and added tributes to those who’d fought for and ultimately won their liberation. In the almost tropical bright morning sunlight, everything seemed to sparkle and radiate joy in simply being.

It soothed her, a little.

“Colonel Kira. Good to see you again.”

She turned at the other woman’s greeting. “Colonel Rig. Likewise. I just wish I understood the circumstances.”

“The first minister is waiting to see you; I’m sure he’ll explain.”

“Of course.”

Rig turned toward one of the entrances to the grand Assembly Hall. “It’s still early. The first minister expected you would want to join him for breakfast.”

Kira nodded and fell into step. The sooner she talked to Shakaar, the sooner she hoped to have answers.

The Assembly Hall was cool and dark, after the sunshine outside. The side halls, with their wide open windows, let in the brilliant light in long shafts across the floor. The two women strode easily through the wide corridors. There weren’t many people moving around that early; the main public halls wouldn’t open yet for nearly an hour. Meanwhile, only a few aides and maintenance staff bustled around, some still barely hiding yawns.

They finally reached the first minister’s private chambers.

“Colonel Kira is here, Minister,” Rig announced formally.

Shakaar, who’d been reviewing reports at his desk, rose with a smile. He was as handsome as ever, she noted, although the burden of office was telling on him; there was silver in his hair now, and strain around his eyes.

“Minister,” Kira nodded respectfully.

“Nerys....” He pulled her into an affectionate hug.

“I’ll have breakfast sent in. Then I’ll check on Captain Yates,” Rig murmured, and left.

“Edon....” Kira felt a little awkward.

“Rig knows our history,” he assured her, releasing her with a smile. “And if I can’t even welcome an old and trusted friend, then it’s time to step down.”

“A friend you didn’t bother to inform was being replaced?” she asked pointedly.

“We’ll discuss that over breakfast,” he replied evasively, as the door opened to admit an elderly woman with a cart. “Please, have a seat....”

Shakaar guided Kira to the small table in the alcove she’d almost missed. The older women set out a light meal. They waited until she left before they spoke again.

“Why did you recall me?” she asked as soon as they were alone again. “And why send Krim to replace me? I thought he was still more-or-less exiled because of his role with the Circle!”

“Krim has earned another chance,” he responded easily, then reached for the kavamilk carafe. “I was more concerned with getting you here.”

“Why?” she pressed, watching him pour. “Why do you want me here? Is there something going on I should know about?”

“Yes, there is. And I think you’re best qualified to help me deal with it,” he said intently.

“But what—“

“What can you do? You can be here.”

She studied his features, trying to find answers.

He took a sip of the hot kavamilk before saying, “You know that we’ve been discussing building a new relay station on the far side of the Celestial Temple — the Wormhole, as the Federation refers to it.”

“Yes,” she replied, trying to contain her impatience. “The Dominion destroyed the stations and relays in the Gamma Quadrant as part of their preliminary attack on the Federation. It’s only reasonable to replace them, for our own security. If the Federation won’t rebuild it, we have to.”

“You also know the Federation continues to stall on any discussion of a time frame for that rebuilding.”

“Yes,” Kira nodded.

“And they have expressed opposition to the station, if built and manned by us, containing only Bajoran personnel.”

Again she nodded.

“We’re going ahead with building the station ourselves, and we’re going to man it ourselves, with Bajorans,” he said intently, leaning forward.

She thought for a second, then nodded. “I understand. We really don’t have any choice, under the circumstances. We have to take care of our own security, even if the Federation is offended. There’s too much at stake.”

“There is a strong and growing coalition among the vedeks and the ministers urging that we go even further. They do not merely want us to rebuild the relay ourselves.” For a moment he looked for words to continue. “They want us to limit traffic through the Wormhole to only Bajorans.”

Kira rocked back in her seat, shocked. “What?”

Shakaar tore off a chunk of bread while she digested that thought.

“The Federation won’t stand for that,” she finally said. “Why would our leaders want to limit Wormhole access?”

“You can’t see reasons, both religious and secular?”

She had to admit she understood. “There’ve been concerns before about too many outsiders disrupting the Prophets. We consider it a mark of favor for the Prophets to grace us with an orb vision, but anyone could encounter the Prophets any time they go through the Wormhole — without faith or respect.” She stared down at her plate. “And under the cloak of faith, we could limit Federation expansion in the Gamma Quadrant, open it only to Bajoran colonization and trade. If all cargo and passengers had to pass through the Wormhole on Bajoran vessels, it would be a bonanza to our shipping and commerce. That could potentially alienate us from Starfleet, and disrupt the possibility of Bajor joining the Federation.”

“Or increase the pressure from Starfleet to join the Federation immediately — and there are those among our people who feel Starfleet pressures us too much already, and that we make decisions based on what’s good for them, not necessarily what’s good for us,” he agreed. “Either way, I think Bajor stands to lose more in the long run from such a decision.”

She looked back up at him. “Edon, I’ll help any way I can, but what do you think I can do — besides be here? I’m not good at just being, you know that....”

“As someone who worked closely with Starfleet, you will be evidence that our two governments and peoples can work together peaceably,” he explained. “You can perhaps explain the Federation perspective to the ministers, and remind them why we want to maintain a good relationship for now, and someday join the Federation. And as someone who worked and was friends with the Emissary, I hope the religious orders will give some weight to what you have to say, too.”

“Kasidy is the Emissary’s wife — and a human, from a Federation world — she could do that so much better—“

“I’ve asked her to come too. But you know how divided some of our people are about her.”

She nodded solemnly.

“There are no such questions about you. You are Bajoran.”

“True. The people who hate me, hate me for myself!” she shot back wryly.

He chuckled. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll do what I can, Edon.”

The Ops crew was still in shock. As the shift went on, everyone kept glancing up at the door to the commander’s office, as if unable to convince themselves that Kira wouldn’t step out at any moment. There were a few Starfleet and Bajoran officers who had been stationed on DS9 when Minister Jaro and the Circle made their grab for power, years before, and then-Over-General Krim had come aboard to take control. He had been in charge when Li Nalas was murdered. For those personnel, there were still suspicions about the general, his intentions, and his reasons for being there.

“Does anybody know why she was recalled?” Alden asked in an undertone, deliberately trying not to look at the door the way everyone else was.

“No,” Dax replied a little nervously. She’d been in Ops almost since Kira left, hovering near the commander. She wanted to be there for the first meeting between Alden and Krim, desperately hoping to avert any of the fireworks that had started Alden and Kira off so badly. “Quark said he’d tell us if he learned anything.”

“You expect that Ferengi to find out?” Alden asked in disbelief.

“He knows people! He’s good at getting information! He’ll find out!” she came back defensively, then sent another glance at the closed door.

From the engineering station, the young blonde woman stared up at the door, unable to take her eyes away.

“They say he was a hero, during the Bajoran Occupation,” Nog lisped, his hand awkwardly touching the younger woman’s shoulder to encourage her, then quickly withdrawn.

“But afterward, they say he supported a coup and took over the station, that he was a traitor,” Pedorina said, her accent thicker than usual with stress.

“He admitted his mistake and personally gave the station back to Captain Sisko.”

“He did? They didn’t tell that part of the story.” The ensign looked thoughtful and a bit reassured, her attention still focused on the door.

Kaoron crossed Ops from the science station to the main table.

“We just received an incoming message from Bajor,” Kuhlman announced quietly. “For the general. I forwarded it to him.” He glanced at Kaoron. “Do you think it’s got anything to do with the Colonel being replaced?”

“I suspect it would be counterproductive to speculate,” the science officer replied calmly. “The vagaries of military assignment are seldom explained to those of us who are, as the old expression goes, ‘in the trenches.’ And I expect,” he continued, “that any explanations provided the general were given to him before he arrived here.”

Kuhlman shook his head, still trying to figure it out. “The Colonel hasn’t done anything to deserve being recalled. Nothing major’s gone wrong on the station since the incident with that Cardassian failsafe.”

“You’re ignoring another possibility.”

“What?”

“That the Colonel was recalled, not as a punishment or as mark of disfavor, but as a step in a promotion or other recognition for her career.”

The human was still considering this when another communique caught his attention. “Incoming message from the Romulan science vessel Ral’Toren. They will be docking at the station in ten minutes, on their way to the Gamma Quadrant.”

“No doubt joining the other vessels studying the anticipated Kritlorae Nova,” Kaoron observed. A dozen ships had passed through the Wormhole in the past week, with the Kritlorae system in the Gamma Quadrant as their destination. The smallest star of the trinary system was anticipated to go nova within two to three weeks; it would be an opportunity to observe an incredibly rare stellar phenomenon.

Alden joined them at the main Ops table. He studied the sensor read-outs for a few seconds, frowning, then asked, “Why are those two Bajoran ships just holding position by the Wormhole?”

“We don’t know,” Kuhlman replied. “The captain of the Nellit just contacted us to speak to General Krim.”

As though speaking his name brought him forth, the door to the commander’s office swished open, and Krim stepped into the main section of Ops.

“Attention, all hands,” he announced, as though he needed words to lure their gaze. “I have just been informed by the Bajoran government that we are suspending all non-Bajoran traffic through the Wormhole, pending upcoming deliberations and vote by our government on the issue of access through the Celestial Temple.”

The crew stared in shock.

“Bajoran vessels will be standing by the entrance to the Celestial Temple to enforce this directive as necessary. I will of course be available for any captains who do not understand this order of the Bajoran government regarding Bajoran territory,” he emphasized, giving each Starfleet officer a sharp look. “If anyone wishes to discuss this order, I will be in my office.”

With that brief announcement and one more challenging glare around Ops, the general turned on his heel and went back into his office. The door closed behind him.

At engineering, Nog and Pedorina exchanged shocked looks.

Alden stared after Krim, open-mouthed, then muttered, “He is not a happy man....”

“I ... suppose I’d better ... inform the Romulans....” Kuhlman stuttered to nobody in particular.

Kaoron stared up at the main viewscreen, where the Romulan ship could now be seen. He knew his father’s people. They would not be pleased.

Kasidy Yates had left her flyer in a common hangar at the Sahving Yards, and then transported into the capital. Vedek Hatha had accompanied her, to her surprise, at his own request. Also with them had come a small delegation from the monastery, including several children. She’d been concerned that Hatha and his people might feel uncomfortable with the public transportation into Peri’ketra — the monks at Yoljan didn’t use transporters, and generally walked any time they wanted to go somewhere. But he’d reminded her that he hadn’t lived his entire life in the monastery; he had been in the capital, twenty years before, and others of his order had traveled more frequently, using whatever local transportation was available.

Most of the group went directly to the small monastery where they would be staying, but Hatha and one of the children went into the capital with Kasidy.

The small group materialized in the city transport station and began the short walk to the Assembly Hall, looking for all the world like a family out for a stroll.

“What do you think?” Kasidy asked the vedek. She was enjoying the warmth and sunshine on her face. In the Yoljan Valley, it was winter, and the snowdrifts were high.

Hatha stared around at the beautiful, growing city all about them. “It’s changed. It’s brighter. You can see the effects of freedom. The Prophets have blessed us.”

Kasidy just smiled. The Wormhole aliens certainly existed, but all the conversations with Hatha would never convince her that the Bajoran Prophets were anything close to deities. She was still making her peace with them, however, and the role they’d played in her husband’s life.

“It’s just as beautiful as the holo-images show it!” said the excited young girl beside her. It was Jernen Nerys’s first trip away from the Kendra Valley, and her wide dark eyes were taking in every sight. “I wish the others could have come with us!”

Kasidy and Hatha exchanged glances, the vedek with a half-smile.

“They’re not here for the same reasons we are,” he reminded the girl. “And your friends will see more of the city later.” He glanced up. “I believe that is the minister.”

She looked that way and saw Minister Azin approaching, his arms spread wide and his round face wreathed with smiles.

“Kasidy!”

“Tuel.” She smiled back equally fondly and hugged him in greeting.

The Bajoran Minister of Commerce had been the one who first hired her to ship Bajoran freight, and later taken her on as a commerce liaison. He had hired her back without hesitation when she was released from incarceration after being captured smuggling for the Maquis. Azin Tuel remained a good friend.

He stepped back to arms’-length, studying her face and obvious evidence of pregnancy. “You are looking well. And, I understand, retired, since the Breen incident?”

“I’m feeling well,” she acknowledged, “for the most part. And yes, I’m grounded, for now.” She gestured at the others. “Let me introduce my friends. I’m sure you’ve heard of Vedek Hatha.”

“I have indeed!” Azin’s expression was almost radiant. “Welcome, Vedek, your reputation precedes you. I am pleased to finally meet you.”

“I am pleased to meet you as well.” They bowed to each other, the minister more deeply. “I hope we will have opportunity to speak. From all Kasidy has said, I believe we would have things in common.”

“I will make time, and be honored. And this young lady?” Azin asked jovially, smiling down at the girl.

“Jernen Nerys, from Yoljan.”

“Welcome to Peri’ketra, Nerys. I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, blushing a little at the courteous attention from the high-ranking minister.

“It is indeed. Will you be staying, or is this only a visit on your way to somewhere else?”

“Just a visit, Minister,” she replied politely. “I’ll go home again with Kasidy.”

“Ah. May you enjoy it. But I fear I must cut this meeting short.” He turned back to Kasidy. “The first minister is waiting — he has been hoping to see you as soon as you arrived.”

Bystanders were starting to stare, at hearing her name and taking the time to see who she was. She could hear the inevitable whispers beginning.

“Then let’s not keep him waiting. Trund, will you and Nerys be all right?”

The vedek smiled down at the girl’s eager face. “I think there is plenty for us to see. Will you have an escort back to the monastery later, or should we meet you here?”

“We’ll send an escort,” Azin assured him.

The group separated. Hatha and Jernen turned toward the museum on the other side of the plaza. Kasidy and Azin headed into the Assembly Hall.

“I was surprised that the first minister asked me to come,” she said to Azin.

“There are ... ongoing developments he wants to discuss with you,” Azin replied a little evasively. “He and Colonel Kira are waiting for you to join them.”

“Nerys is here?”

“Yes. The first minister invited her to join him today, as well. Along with a few others. Come.”