After the rain the evening before, the sun rose bright and clear over the wide eastern waters, shining warmly on the Bajoran capital.

“I wonder if the heat is a sign of how the assembly meeting is going to go today,” Kira observed, standing at the open window of the chambers she’d been assigned.

“I’m sure things will get heated,” Shakaar agreed. He had joined her for breakfast after, it appeared, a night of as little sleep and as few answers as she had. From the amount of kavamilk he’d downed during the meal, she suspected he wouldn’t be sleeping the coming night either.

“Do you think you have the votes to keep the Wormhole open?”

“No,” he admitted flatly. “But on the positive side, Minister Rozahn’s coalition doesn’t have the votes to close it, either. The undecided faction will carry the matter. One way or the other, it’s going to depend on today’s session.”

She took a deep breath. “I suppose we might as well go, then.”

Shakaar took one long last gulp of his kavamilk, and they left the room.

Kira took a place in the citizens’ gallery where they would have a good view of the speakers, on a bench a little apart from the others who were already there. She wasn’t alone for long — a few minutes after she sat down, Vedek Hatha entered the gallery, leading Kasidy and the child Jernen Nerys.

“Kasidy!” she called.

With smiles, they joined Kira, exchanging pleasant greetings. Kira was tempted to ask Kasidy if she had seen anything unusual the night before, but with the little girl there, she decided not to.

After seeing Kasidy settled, the vedek had to leave.

“I must take my place in the Assembly,” Hatha said, smiling. “You’ll watch carefully, Nerys? And tell me if my words are convincing?”

The girl nodded solemnly, then sat down beside Kasidy. After a moment spent staring down at the vast chamber where the vedeks would convene, she asked, “How come we can’t sit closer?”

Kira explained to the wide-eyed child. “We’re allowed to watch the discussion, and to speak out on an issue, the same as the ministers and any Bajoran citizens. But when it’s time for the vote, the Vedek Assembly goes into seclusion — those curtains close, we have to leave the gallery, and the ministers leave the floor. That lets the vedeks ask the Prophets for guidance, and cast their vote without fear. We’ll hear the results afterward.”

Jernen frowned. “I’ll have to be a vedek someday. Then I can vote too. Like Vedek Hatha.”

“There’s a lot more to being a vedek than just getting to vote in the Assembly,” Kira reminded her.

But Kasidy rested a hand maternally on the girl’s shoulder, smiling fondly. “I think you’d make a very good vedek, Nerys.”

The ministers filed in to take their places, a semi-circular row of seats to one side of the assembly. The vedeks’ vote would not be binding on them, but because this issue had so many religious overtones, the ministers were likely to accede to the vedeks’ decision. Shakaar glanced up at them as he walked, his expression strained; Kira nodded back with solemn encouragement. Minister Rozahn, looking equally unsettled, was at the end of the line, as far from Shakaar as she could be; she also caught Kira’s eye, but her expression darkened.

The vedeks entered. Not surprisingly, considering the gravity of the issue, every vedek of the Assembly had made the effort to attend the day’s deliberations. The assembly was called to order with a prayer for the blessings and wisdom of the Prophets to come upon them and show their will. Then the debate began.

The security station was quiet. Three officers were on duty, monitoring the Assembly force fields and a number of monitors providing surveillance of various entrances into the complex. Two of the officers were gathered before the screen showing part of the assembly room, where they could hear the speeches and debate — the Wormhole question was of interest to nearly every Bajoran. The third officer remained at the console for the force fields, grumbling a little.

“Turn it up so I can at least hear it!” the third complained.

“All right!” the female officer said. “Anything to shut you up....” Her fingers lightly ran up the touch pad on the side of the monitor, increasing the volume.

“Hey,” the third said a moment later, frowning. “Something’s wrong with the energy levels — it just spiked, then dropped back.... I better notify Colonel Rig.”

“Let me check it first.” The male officer at the screen stalked toward a panel behind a half-wall, grumbling, “If we disturb the Colonel at a time like this for no reason, she’ll have our heads.”

He paused at the wall, glancing back. The woman was engrossed in the speech; the other man was listening just as raptly, paying little attention to his console.

His gaze flicked to the door. He touched a control, and the light blue haze of the room’s force screen faded silently. Another figure appeared at the door, wearing a security uniform. The officer nodded once.

“Figure it out?” the man in the chair called to the standing officer.

The stranger stepped inside, aiming a phaser.

“Hey!” The woman spotted him. “Who—“

As she went for her weapon, the stranger fired, and she dropped in a heap.

Before the officer at the console could pull his weapon and stand, the stranger shifted his stance and fired again; the officer fell backward, toppling his chair.

The man who’d betrayed his comrades went back to work at the panel as the stranger began turning off screens and changing passwords.

“Done,” the betrayer said with satisfaction, stepping away from the panel and into full view.

The stranger stood up, weapon casually in hand.

“What do I do next—“

The stranger fired, and the officer dropped. “You die,” he said, sounding a little regretful. “You would have been too easy to trace, even if you kept your silence.”

Rig joined them during the debate.

It was the first time Kira had seen her that day. She leaned over. “We need to talk later,” she whispered.

Rig nodded, obviously pre-occupied as her dark eyes continued to scan the citizens’ gallery.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, seeing the way the other woman’s gaze kept shifting.

“I hope not.” Rig glanced over; she now had Kasidy and little Nerys’s attention as well. “We’ll discuss it later,” she muttered.

A dark-complexioned, haggard-looking man in humble, travel-worn clothing made his way hesitantly into the galleries surrounding the assembly, unobserved as those around him remained rapt in their attention to the speakers.

“Hey, careful!” somebody muttered querulously when he stumbled over her feet.

The big man stared impassively down at the seated woman, who, after meeting that silent gaze for a second, quickly pulled her feet in and slid down the bench to get out of his way.

He moved along.

“...And that is why we must preserve the Celestial Temple,” Vedek Foldan closed with eloquent passion, her arms raised as if in entreaty or in worship. “The Prophets have given us so much. They are worthy of honor, and we can show that we honor them, their importance, their purity, by ensuring their Temple will be closed to any but true believers — Bajorans — who will revere them as they have earned.”

There was a broad smattering of applause in response.

Kira saw Shakaar move restively, and trade a covert glance with Minister Azin.

“I thought that kind of anger and fanaticism had died with Kai Winn,” Kasidy murmured, disturbed. “Who did you say she was again?”

“Vedek Foldan. She’s apparently been part of Rozahn’s coalition from the beginning — she may even have been the impetus for the idea. After what she had to say last night, I’m not surprised she’s against allowing any but Bajorans through the Wormhole — I almost expected her to come right out and try to make Bajor off-limits to outsiders....” A thought struck Kira. She turned to Rig. “Is she any relation to the Foldan that tried to kill the Federation ambassadors a few months ago?”

“Her records suggest not,” Rig noted. “But I’ve been investigating further, since she started speaking out on this issue. Records have been falsified before.”

Remembering when an unscrupulous Cardassian had tried to convince her that she was a Cardassian agent, in a plot to trap one of their leaders, Kira had to agree.

“I don’t think I like her,” young Nerys piped up, reminding the adults that there were young ears listening. She took Kasidy’s hand. “If she wants to send Kasidy away, she can’t be hearing the call of the Prophets. So she must be lying, and that’s a bad thing.”

The women looked at each other a little guiltily.

“Maybe she thinks she hears them, Nerys,” Kasidy said kindly. “But she might not be hearing them clearly, like when someone calls to you from a long distance on a windy day, or whispers to you across a room. You think you know what they said, but maybe you didn’t hear what they really meant.”

The girl absorbed this. “Then I feel sorry for her,” she announced. “Because she’ll feel bad when she finds out she’s wrong. But who’ll tell her?”

“Other vedeks will talk now, if they feel the Prophets moving them,” Kira said, feeling a little awkward. The girl wasn’t much older than the O’Briens’ daughter; she tried to remember how she used to interact and speak with the girl who called her “Auntie Nerys.”

“When do civilians ... non-vedeks have a chance for rebuttal?” Kasidy asked, frowning as she scanned the chamber below.

“After any vedeks who wish to have spoken, the kai would normally stand up and ask if anyone feels inspired to bring their own thoughts and words before the Assembly. Since we have no kai, that will be the youngest vedek’s duty. That vedek will also call up the speakers.”

“The youngest?”

Kira flashed a brief smile. “An old tradition, preventing the authority of the kai from falling into the hands of the oldest vedek by default, during times like these.”

“So instead it could fall into the hands of the youngest vedek?”

“You saw it was the oldest vedek that opened the assembly — responsibility is divided. There are also set rotations for collecting votes, reading them, announcing them — and once a vedek has declared the wish to become kai, he or she is barred from any of those positions until after the vote.”

A ripple of astonishment caught their attention. They realized the people around them were staring past them at the door.

“May we join you?” a calm voice inquired.

“Ambassador S’ren, of course....” They slid down the bench, making room for the tall Vulcan and his aide.

“Will the admiral be joining us as well?” Kira continued with a question.

“The admiral had other business this afternoon. Have I missed anything of significance?” he inquired politely, settling his silver and red robes around him.

“You missed Vedek Foldan making a fool of herself,” young Nerys piped up gravely.

One eyebrow shot up, genuinely surprised.

Iscalla knew the corridors would be all but empty, with everyone’s attention on the debate in the assembly. After taking out the security team and bringing down the force field, he knew he wouldn’t have much time, ten to fifteen minutes, no more. Other offices would pick up the dropped screens, and send people to investigate. Staff would immediately begin reactivating the shields, as soon as they cracked the passwords he’d changed. Security alerts would be implemented.

And they would be looking for him.

With the screens and monitors down, he could activate his weapon and the transporter.

He knew they would pinpoint his first site-to-site transport, and probably locate his equipment too. He might not get a second chance. He had to be right the first time.

He found an empty closet far enough from the security station not to be quickly found in a search grid, out of general sight and not likely to be immediately thought of. The coordinates were pre-set; all he had to do was activate the long-distance code for his off-site transporter.

In two minutes he would transport — just enough time to assemble his phaser.

Vedek Hatha slowly approached the podium, looking thoughtful. He was the last whose order had requested the opportunity to be heard.

Watching him in the midst of the Assembly, Kasidy couldn’t help smiling. He looked so different, so dignified, in the formal autumn-colored robes and wearing the coif of his order. She was so used to seeing him in the fields of the Yolja Valley — especially the baseball field! — working with his hands or laughing as he played with children, sometimes down to trousers and barefoot, with his hair riotously free as it continued to grow. He still held to his vow not to cut his hair until the Emissary returned. Her smile faded a little at the memory, still not so long ago, of when Ben had left her.

Ambassador S’ren leaned her direction, speaking past her. “Colonel Kira, I believe the first minister would like your attention.”

“Oh! I see....”

Looking down, Kasidy could see too, Shakaar glancing their way, gesturing slightly with two fingers of one hand, the signal asking Kira to come down and submit her request to speak as soon as the vedeks were finished.

“Excuse me,” Kira said, and stood up.

The others turned their attention to Hatha, who had reached the podium. He still seemed to be searching for the right words.

“I do not often come before this assembly,” he began, “nor do I speak lightly on matters that affect our people and our world, and our place in this universe....”

Iscalla transported directly into the antechamber of the assembly — a room that security would not dare to violate, except as a last resort. No alarms had been activated yet. He could hear one of the vedeks beginning to speak.

“May the Prophets guide my hand in their holy work,” he breathed.

Raising his weapon, he stepped into the assembly hall.

“...But I have no doubt,” Hatha continued, “that our place is as part of this universe — and that this universe will be part of us and our future. As the Prophets are part of us, and are the soul of our past, our present, and our future. There are few remaining now, who doubt the Emissary....”

He stopped, staring at the man who’d just stepped out of the antechamber, wearing the blue uniform of the militia, but carrying a phaser in chambers where no weapons were allowed.

The stranger raised the phaser.

Hatha followed the direction with his eyes, and his jaw dropped in horror.

“Kasidy!”