“Right now, the number is still closer to four hundred,” Ro corrected, “but it could easily reach a thousand by the time the preliminary evaluations are completed.”
Vaughn sighed. “I was hoping I’d be able to speak with them individually before they got their assignments, but obviously that’s not going to happen. We’ll have to make other arrangements. Perhaps a welcoming ceremony…” He looked at Ro. “In any event, Starfleet may need to set up a retraining facility here on Bajor to handle the bulk of the direct transfers.”
“That recommendation appears in my report, sir,” Ro said, keying the proper page and handing the padd to Vaughn.
“Excellent work, Lieutenant,” Vaughn said.
“Thank you, sir.”
After a moment of silence, the commander added, “You haven’t told me yet how your meeting with Lenaris went.”
“It could have gone better,” Ro admitted. “He’s second-guessing everything now. I did my best to reassure him, but—”
Ro was interrupted by the familiar, quasi-feminine voice of a Starfleet computer. “U.S.S. Brahmaputra to Commander Vaughn.”
“Hold that thought,” Vaughn told Ro before tapping his combadge. “Go ahead.”
“Incoming communication from Dr. Girani Semna aboard Starbase Deep Space 9.”
Vaughn winced. “Very well. Put her through.”
“Channel open.”
“Yes, Doctor, what I can do for you?”
“You’ve missed your appointment again, Commander.”
“And I apologize again, Doctor,” Vaughn said. “Perhaps we can reschedule…?”
“Oh, no you don’t. Not this time,”Girani said. “the report on the annual crew exams is due to be filed with Starfleet Medical tomorrow. Dr. Bashir asked me to finish them in his absence, and you’re the last one, Commander. I may not be Starfleet, but I still have the authority to pull medical rank over any member of the station crew. You’re to return to the station immediately and report to the infirmary. That’s an order.”
Vaughn bowed his head in resignation. Ro tried not to smile, but was only partly successful. As his gaze came back up, Vaughn caught her amusement and scowled.
“All right, Doctor, you win. I’m on my way back to DS9. I’ll be on your biobed in two hours. Vaughn out.” He tapped his combadge again. “Damn doctors. If she wasn’t already transferring dirtside—” He stopped, looked at Ro. “That reminds me…any progress in finding a new Bajoran MO?”
Ro nodded. “I have several candidates lined up. Their files are available for review at your convenience.”
“Good. Kira’s expecting a recommendation soon, and I can’t blame her. Even more than before, Bajorans will be the primary residents of the station. I don’t want to be without a Bajoran Starfleet physician for too long, especially with Bashir taking time off.”
Mention of Bashir’s absence recalled to Ro the awkward circumstances surrounding the human doctor’s return from Trill with Ezri Dax, ten days ago. They had left as lovers and returned estranged. Although, considering what they had been through on Dax’s homeworld, a strain on their relationship could hardly have been considered a surprise. Nor Bashir’s abrupt decision to finally take some leave time.
“I believe you were about to tell me about your meeting with General Lenaris,” Vaughn said.
“It was complicated by the situation in Hedrikspool, which now looks as if it was a deliberate act of mass murder, by aliens, for reasons unknown.”
Vaughn nodded. “I spoke with Dax a short while ago. She filled me in on the latest.”
“Any word from the Defiant?”
“Only that they think they picked up the scent—a warp signature that’s a close match for Besinian propulsion systems. It was leading toward the Badlands.”
Ro scowled. Any ship in the Bajoran sector intent on evading the authorities inevitably went into the Badlands. Who wouldn’t? Sure, you took your chances getting that close to the plasma storms, but once inside, you were home free. That was what made the area so attractive to the Maquis. She made a mental note to look into the possibility of deploying automated sensor drones between B’hava’el and the Badlands; random sweeps of the region might reduce its effectiveness as a bolthole.
“What has your own investigation turned up?” Vaughn asked.
“Nothing useful yet,” Ro admitted. “I kept hitting dead ends trying to trace the ownership and previous whereabouts of the freighter. One of Lenaris’s men suggested that learning more about the village itself might provide a clue about why this happened. I’m looking into that.”
“I imagine Lenaris is feeling pretty frustrated about the whole situation,” Vaughn went on.
“Having to turn the matter over to Starfleet galled him,” Ro said. “This incident has driven home the downside of the Militia’s reduced role as a purely local defense and security force. He thinks they’re becoming obsolete.”
“He knows that isn’t true.”
“Intellectually, sure. But it’s hard to remember that when you’re standing in the ashes of three hundred people you failed to protect.”
“It wasn’t his failure. And if he believes it was, then it’s ourfailure as well. We’re in this together.”
“But, sir—” How to put this? “We weren’t alwaysin this together. Bajor liberated itselffrom the Cardassians, without help from Starfleet, or anybody else for that matter. Most of the Militia is made up of former resistance fighters. It’s a difficult thing for them to accept a reduced role in protecting Bajor.”
“Nearly a quarter million Bajorans in Starfleet isn’t a reduced role, Ro. It’s an expanded one in which Bajorans will be taking even greater responsibility for protecting their world, and others. Bajor chose this, Lieutenant. It requested Starfleet’s help eight years ago, and petitioned for Federation membership. Isn’t that the point your people were trying to make by taking a lead in relief efforts to Cardassia? In harboring the Europani refugees when their world was threatened? That Bajor was more than ready to think outside the confines of one people and one planet?”
“I’m not disputing any of that. But if we’re in this together, as you say, then those who choose not to join Starfleet—who devote themselves instead to service in Bajor’s home guard—still need to have a sense of involvement. They need to know they still count.”
“What are you proposing?”
Ro took a deep breath and took the plunge. “I suggest we reestablish the position of Militia liaison officer on Deep Space 9.”
“That’s the role Kira had before she became station commander, isn’t it?”
Ro nodded. “She interfaced with the Militia and with the government in all aspects of station operations. She was a voice specifically for Bajoran interests within the predominantly Starfleet command structure.”
Vaughn considered the idea. Then, to her surprise, he said, “All right. What about you?”
“Me?”
“I can’t think of anyone better. Kira’s role as starbase CO rules her out, and to date you’re the only other Bajoran who’s worked within both organizations. You’re the ideal choice.”
“Sir, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I think what’s really needed is for the Militia to be represented by one of their own on DS9, to have a permamant presence there as a member of the senior staff.”
“That sounds almost like you’re suggesting a token Militia officer.”
Ro bristled. “What I’m suggesting,sir, is the Militia continuing to have input in matters the station deals with that may affect the security of Bajor.”
“Lower your shields, Lieutenant,” Vaughn said. “I think it’s an excellent idea. I’m behind it one hundred percent and I intend to take it to the captain. I just want you to be prepared for how others may react to the idea, both in the Starfleet crew andin the Militia.”
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem, sir,” Ro said. “After all, if religious Bajorans can adjust to my agnosticism, and Starfleet hardliners can handle my reinstatement, a new Militia liaison shouldn’t be a big deal.”