Chapter 2

After the quick synthehol at Quark’s, Kira headed for Ops to check on things before retiring for the night. They’d only been back on the station a handful of days, and she wanted to make sure everything was going as it was supposed to. Also, she admitted to herself, she had a certain proprietary and protective feeling about her command, so recently the Emissary’s command. Her duty here was more than just a military obligation, it was also a spiritual one.

Kaoron was still there.

“Working late, Lieutenant?” she asked cordially.

The science officer’s attention remained attentively fixed on his monitors. “Good evening, Colonel. I’ve been coordinating subspace channels from the Corado I Transmitter Array and our runabout.” His fingers slid across the control panel. “Amazingly, the subspace silithium filament appears intact, and viable. Lieutenant Bilecki indicates we should have no difficulty re-establishing full communications and sensors through the Wormhole.”

“Excellent.” She felt a small bit of satisfaction that at least something seemed to be going right these days.

She moved to the railing where she could gaze through the port. She could see the stars that formed the constellation of the Runners, scattered off to one side. Sisko had said, more than once, that he could never figure out if the Runners were running toward something, or away from something. She had no doubt. They were running to the Celestial Temple, what non-Bajorans called the Wormhole.

At the other side of that wormhole, the runabout Tiber was involved in tests with the Corado Array to determine if their subspace signals could still pass through and retain their coherence. There had been a communications array at the other end before the war; the Dominion had destroyed that unmanned relay and the listening posts in the Gamma Quadrant when they first came through the Wormhole in force.

Kira knew how much the Federation had suffered in the Dominion war. So many people dead, ships and stations destroyed, colonies in ruins. There were so many needs, so many wounded who had to be tended, so many facilities that had to be repaired or rebuilt, so many worlds poisoned in ways that had to be healed. Starfleet had been clear that rebuilding the relay was simply not possible, at the moment.

But the Gamma Quadrant relay was a vital part of the Alpha Quadrant’s ability to secure and patrol its borders; she couldn’t understand how it could be relegated to a second-level priority. The war between the Federation and the Dominion might be over, but where the Gamma Quadrant was concerned, a little paranoia was a healthy thing, Kira thought. Bajor was the front line where the Wormhole was involved; with the blessing of the Prophets and the foresight of the Emissary, her home world had been mostly unscathed in the war. Who knew if they would be so lucky next time?

With that in mind, Bajor was pressing strongly for the rebuilding of the relay — larger, better defended, and manned.

Starfleet, however, seemed to be dragging its feet. Whether it was really lack of resources, or Bajor’s insistence that the station be manned primarily by Bajorans, and be under Bajoran control, was the question. Kira had her suspicions. It had been one thing when the Emissary was in command here — he had been trusted to keep Bajor’s interests foremost, and Starfleet would listen to Captain Benjamin Sisko. The Bajoran Council of Ministers and the Vedek Assembly had less faith that Starfleet would heed Colonel Kira Nerys, where it came to the Celestial Temple. That was why both were pressing for Bajor to build its own station in the Gamma Quadrant.

Starfleet Command wasn’t happy about that.

She wondered if that thought had been in Ross’s mind in their last communiqué, with his pointed questions about the status of the technical upgrade — a reminder of how much Bajor owed the Federation? With the quiet suggestion that perhaps Bajor should stop being so demanding for even more? She frowned.

As if a trigger to activity, she heard footsteps.

“Colonel?”

“What is it, Kuhlman?” she asked.

“We just received confirmation from Bajor,” the young ensign replied. “First Minister Shakaar will be arriving on schedule tomorrow, along with Vedek Carn.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” she replied. “Let the Constable know.”

“Aye, Colonel.” He nodded and returned to his post.

Kira couldn’t help smiling as she headed for her quarters. She hadn’t seen Shakaar Edon since the formal memorial for Captain Sisko, and neither of them had been able to talk then. Tomorrow she would see an old friend, and while they had some very serious matters to discuss, she was still looking forward to it.

* * * *

Lise’s brothers had a secret.

She could tell that from the moment they walked toward her near the mouth of the caves at the end of their evening shifts. Or rather, from the moment Sona walked up to her and Kail ran to her so quickly that he tripped and stumbled into her already-sore body.

“Hey!” She grabbed Kail to steady both of them, then jostled him playfully. His shoulders felt thin and light in her hands. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, but the gray eyes under his thick dark hair shone up at her with strange excitement. Grit from the ore mines stuck to the perspiration on his forehead and she unconsciously brushed it away.

A Cardassian overseer, leaning sleepily against the rocks at the entrance to the mines, gave them a shiftless wave. “Keep moving,” he mumbled. “No loitering.”

“Let’s go home,” Sona told her in his grave, deep voice. Lise suspected that his insistence wasn’t out of any wish to obey the officer; something else was going on.

She was curious, but she only nodded. Flicking a glance over her shoulder, she found Tana walking out into the night air with the rest of the Bajoran workers, looking as tired and dirty as any of them. She returned Lise’s smile, but Lise was still a bit uncomfortable after the scene at the river. Tana had been quieter and more attentive to her work than usual today, and Lise had sorely missed their whispered banter during the long hours of manual labor.

But, “You coming over?” was the only thing she said as Tana approached.

Her friend shrugged, rumpling Kail’s hair affectionately. As if she were his real sister, Kail swatted playfully back. “Just for a bit,” Tana said. “I promised my father that I’d eat with him tonight.”

Sona nodded. “This won’t take long. Come on, let’s get moving. We can meet Mother coming back from the kitchens if we hurry.”

That sense of urgency again. Lise gave Tana a puzzled look, and Tana raised her eyebrows in silent agreement. Emyn Sona was a quiet, almost withdrawn man; anything that could awaken such a resolve in him had to be important.

They started off together, the four of them, walking down the path toward the town. If you could really call Aoja a town, Lise mused as it came into view; the only thing that was really there was a cluster of tiny shed-like houses arranged around an open commons area, with the oppressive height of the Cardassian garrison glaring down sternly. Much higher than the garrison rose the bluffs, throwing odd shadows; and over that, over everything and wheeling silent and immense, the Bajoran sky stretched its majestic constellations from horizon to horizon. Compared to that sky, Lise thought, the small homes looked like fragile birds’ nests hidden in the sand, and the brightly-lit garrison a childish display of arrogance.

Quiet conversations whispered through the crowd of workers as they walked, and several times Lise felt friendly touches on her arm or shoulder as her coworkers — her friends, people she had known all her life — passed her or turned off the path toward their respective houses. The bond between the group of families was a strong one, and heartening. Lise breathed in the desert air and sighed contentedly; despite the weariness in her muscles, it felt good to be walking out here at night, with the gentle wind cooling her face.

“I’m going to walk with Sona,” Kail whispered to her, and darted off before Lise could do more than glance in his direction. He ran ahead to where their older brother led the way, and tugged eagerly on his sleeve. Sona leaned down slightly to whisper to the young boy, and Lise was struck by the almost-fatherly gesture. Next to Sona’s athletic strength, eight-year-old Kail seemed even thinner and more fragile. Both she and Sona felt that keenly, and between the two of them, they always watched over their younger brother and protected him.

Lise leaned lightly against Tana’s shoulder. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“Not a clue,” Tana replied softly. She glanced carefully over her other shoulder at their Cardassian escorts, and lowered her voice still further, keeping her face neutral. “We’d better not talk about it here. It sounds like a secret….”

Lise frowned a bit. “A secret from them…?” she breathed, tipping her head toward the guards.

“Who else? We wouldn’t keep secrets from each other.” Even in a whisper, Tana’s voice filled with fierce pride, and her eyes took on the same light that Sona’s had. “I wonder….”

She trailed off, and Lise felt apprehension tug at her heart. Whatever this secret was, for some reason she didn’t think she would like it.

The rest of the walk continued in silence. They arrived at the Regne home, where a single light cast a faint glow through the shutters of the window — Tana’s father had been released from maintenance duty early this evening — but Tana passed it by and walked with the Emyns to their own home. The guard closest to them barely took notice, even though the laws demanded that Bajoran servants go straight home after curfew. The Emyn and Regne families interacted so closely it was sometimes hard to tell them apart.

A light burned at the window of Lise’s home as well. “The Cardies must have been feeling generous today,” she remarked wryly. Tana blew out a soft snort.

The door opened as they walked up, and Emyn Moran reached out to usher them swiftly in. “I’m glad you’re back,” the slim woman said. Her rumpled brown hair caught the light behind her like a halo around her head. She pressed Sona’s arm as he walked past her, then put an arm around Kail’s shoulders. “I was worried.”

Lise waited until the door was closed firmly behind them before answering. “Why would you worry, Mother?” she asked, perplexed. “Why is everyone so edgy?”

“Not so loud.” Sona’s dark eyes flicked cautiously toward the door. “Wait.”

This only confused her more, but she obeyed. They all held still and listened as the crunch of the guard’s boots faded away outside. Silence fell for a moment; then Moran stepped quietly to the windows and made sure the shutters were securely fastened.

“Will someone,” Lise murmured slowly, “please tell me what is going on?”

Suddenly, Sona seemed hurried, almost impatient. “Who here knows about this? Mother?”

Moran nodded slightly, keeping part of her attention to the door. “I’ve heard a little, from the other house servants.”

“Lise, you and Tana…?”

“No,” Lise said. “We know nothing.”

Tana simply watched him, her face flushed slightly. “Tell us.”

There was a pause; Sona took a breath, walked across the room and sat down on the edge of the narrow bed next to Kail. Then he met all of their gazes in turn before speaking. “There is a Resistance cell,” he told them. “Near Aoja. They’ve been eluding Cardassian authorities for months in the hills surrounding the desert, but now they’re running out of food and supplies. They’ve hidden nearby.”

Lise felt a dull shock hit her in the stomach and spread out until it buzzed through her entire body. Beside her, Tana gasped, then glanced toward the door and abruptly silenced herself. She didn’t let herself speak until she was sure that her voice would remain a whisper. “The Resistance — they’re here? Now?”

“We don’t know their exact location yet,” Sona replied softly. “They were barely able to alert us of their presence without being captured — they can’t risk direct contact until we get organized.”

Tana’s hazel eyes were shining. “Who are they?”

Sona frowned thoughtfully. “Many people here have heard of them — I don’t remember what they call themselves….”

“The Olan.” Moran’s gentle voice caressed the name almost reverently. “They are the Olan, after their leader. He’s a great man, so they say.”

“He’s a dangerous man,” Lise said hoarsely. It was the first thing she’d managed to say since she’d learned Sona’s secret. At her words, all eyes turned toward her. “I’ve heard the guards talking about this Resistance cell before,” she explained. “They’ve sabotaged military outposts, killed important generals — the Cardassians want Olan dead.”

Kail’s eyes were huge in his thin face. “That’s because he’s a hero,” he whispered eagerly. “He’s beaten them, and helped a lot of people. He’s a brave fighter.”

“Their entire cell is brave,” Sona agreed proudly. “They know this land and its people better than anyone else, from what I’ve heard. They’ve been fugitives for months now, and the Cardassians still have no idea where they are.”

“In the kitchens today, Pol told me stories about them — such stories,” Moran said. Her face was alight with sudden joy. “She said that they were once on a mission to deliver information that could destroy a military stronghold near the southern end of the desert, but they were ambushed on the way and forced to scatter. Everyone feared that the mission was lost, but one man, one man on foot, managed to save all of them. He eluded an entire regiment of Cardassian soldiers in the bluffs for three days, then ran, faster than the wind, twenty kilometers through the desert, and completed the mission. He even lived to tell the story. One man!”

“And they are here. Finally,” Tana breathed. “Praise the Prophets, it’s finally happening.…”

Lise couldn’t say anything for a moment. The eyes of her family around her reflected fierce hope, joy, determination. But she didn’t feel that way. The only thing she felt right now was shock. And behind that, she could sense fleeting darts of emotion that would soon emerge as dismay and apprehension and fear, fear most of all.

“We’ll all have the chance to help them,” Sona was saying. “They need people to relay messages and supplies to them, get them equipment. With our aid, they can stay hidden and build up their strength. And when it’s safe enough, they’ve promised to help us in return.”

Tana grabbed Lise’s arm happily, their earlier quarrel flooded completely out of her mind. “Think of it, Lise! We have the chance to break free, can’t you see it? We can start fighting for Bajor!”

Lise was startled to realize that her own hands were trembling, ever so slightly. “Or die trying….”

Kail jumped to his feet, resolute. “I would,” he declared with amazing courage. “I’d die for Bajor.”

“No!” The cry leapt from Lise’s throat. She crossed the room in three quick steps and caught Kail by the shoulders. “I won’t let you do this. You’re too young, the Cardassians would tear you apart. You can’t let him, Mother!”

Kail squirmed out of her grip. “I am not! No, they wouldn’t!”

“Hush!” Moran whispered fiercely. “Lise!”

They all froze and listened. Night sounds rustled and murmured around the tiny house; the wind whispered distantly through the bluffs. Nothing else.

Finally Moran broke the silence. “Kail, Lise is right,” she said calmly. “You are too young to die for Bajor just yet — I don’t want you trying to run messages to the Olan.”

Lise breathed easier; Kail scowled and gave his older sister an accusing glare.

Sona gripped the boy’s shoulder firmly. “It’s all right, Kail! There will plenty of ways for you to fight for us, now that the Olan are here. We won’t let your courage go to waste, I promise you.”

Just as quickly as it had faded, the light in Kail’s eyes reappeared. “Good,” he said intently. “And you can take them food and supplies, can’t you, Sona?”

“I will,” Sona replied gravely. “And Mother — you might be able to smuggle some things out of the storage rooms in the garrison kitchens while you’re working there, right?”

Moran nodded, determination hardening her features. “I can try.”

“Lise and I are fast — we can run messages.” Tana gave her friend an earnest look.

But Lise shook her head. “No, I don’t like this. We’re putting everyone at risk by helping them. Mother, Sona, what would happen to Kail if you got yourselves killed in this?”

“I’m not a baby,” Kail retorted. But Moran and Sona exchanged worried glances, and Lise took in their silence with growing frustration.

“Then I’ll stay behind and take care of him,” she said finally. “Someone has to.”

Tana frowned at this, perhaps disappointed, but nodded her agreement.

A silence fell over the dim room. After a moment, the floodlights of the garrison suddenly shut off, and the town was plunged into darkness. To Lise, the little cluster of houses felt even more minuscule and exposed on the edge of the open desert; even though she couldn’t see the sky from inside, it still felt immense enough to swallow them up. It was impossible to stop thinking that somewhere in the canyons near her home, a group of soldiers was crouched in the darkness, and now they were all in danger.

Tana stepped over to the window and opened the shutter a bit, staring out into the night. “I think it’s safe for me to slip back home,” she said after a pause. “No one is out there.”

“All right,” Moran said. “Be careful.”

“We’re going to start organizing teams of messengers in the next few days,” Sona added, touching her arm. “I’ll get you information soon.”

She nodded, then walked swiftly and silently to the doorway. As Moran covered the lamp, she carefully eased the door open and slipped out. On a whim, Lise sprang into motion and darted after her, slipping her narrow body sideways through the door as it closed.

Tana brushed her wrist, acknowledging her presence, and the two girls pressed close to the wall. They moved carefully until they were safely around the corner and into the shadows. As they reached the worn footpath that ran behind the row of houses, hidden from view from the garrison, Tana dropped into a crouch, sitting up on her heels with her sturdy legs curled under her. Lise ducked down right beside her.

“See you tomorrow?” Tana barely whispered. The starlight provided little illumination here, but they were sitting so close together, Lise could feel her friend’s light breath touch her face. She nodded in reply.

“Okay, then.” Glancing over her shoulder one last time, Tana shifted her weight to one foot and stretched out her leg until her other foot found the path. Before she could push off into a smooth run, Lise pressed her arm.

“Tana, just … be careful.” She wasn’t talking about the short course back to the Regne home.

She felt her smile in reply, and their hands met for just a moment. Then Tana glided into motion, slipping down the path until the shadows enveloped her and she was gone.

Chapter Three

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