“…spent time touring Federation worlds. I have spoken with their representatives, as well as…”

Kira’s romantic relationship with Shakaar had ended abruptly, but amicably. It had been later that they had drifted apart, the gulf seeming to widen especially in the last few months. Although Kira still loved Odo—since he had left, she had not seen anybody, and she did not know when, or even if, she ever would—she also missed her closeness with Shakaar. Not their romance, but the closeness that had come from having a shared history and shared values. When they had talked alone in his guest quarters yesterday, the distance between them had been apparent to her, though the conversation had gone perfectly well. And since it had not been Kira’s inclination to diminish their friendship, it must have been Shakaar’s choice. And sometimes that saddened her.

“…and on behalf of the Bajoran people, I officially requested the renewal of our petition for membership in the Federation. Today, here aboard Deep Space 9, a summit commenced to consider that petition. Attending are ambassadors from…”

Kira turned her full attention to Shakaar, now that he had come to the official announcement of the summit. She wondered what the reaction on Bajor would be, and just how long it would take the Federation representatives on the station to come to a decision.

“There have been many struggles for our people in the past,”Shakaar continued, “but now we look to a bright, positive, and peaceful future.”He paused, seemingly to underscore the words he was about to say. “Today,”he went on, “I am happy to report to you that Bajor’s petition for membership in the Federation has been approved.”

Kira was startled. She had believed that there was a good chance that this would happen within the next few months, but for it to happen so soon…

“The summit will continue, as there are many issues still to be resolved, but the official signing ceremony will take place six weeks from today. At that time, Bajor will become a member of the United Federation of Planets.”

Shakaar continued speaking, but Kira heard nothing more. She felt dazed by the rapidity with which this had happened.

The quaver of the companel drew her eyes back to the display, and she saw that Shakaar had finished his speech, and that his image had been replaced by a Bajoran icon. She put her teacup down on the arm of the seat, then stood up and paced over to the companel. She switched it off. Still feeling stunned, she peered aimlessly around her office. Her gaze came to rest on the bookshelf, and then to the large, red tome there. She walked to the shelf and pulled When the Prophets Crieddown.

“‘Anew will shine the twilight of their destiny,’” Kira quoted the ancient prophecy. “Not the end of the day,” she whispered. “The beginning.” Holding the sacred text flat in one hand, she ran her fingers across the faded gilt letters of the title inlaid into the cover.

Alone in her office, Kira smiled, knowing that a new dawn had come to the people of Bajor.

Part Four

A Newer World

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;

The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep

Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends.

’Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

—ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON,

“ULYSSES”

64

“Do you have regrets?”

Prynn raised her head and peered over the open top of the survival locker at Shar, not surprised by his question. Her own thoughts had turned to many subjects over the last hour or two, and regret had certainly been among them. Still, even considering the uncertainty of their situation, she did not wish to discuss such matters right now. What’s the point?she thought. Instead, shrugging and attempting to change the subject, she said, “Well, I’ve never been surfing on the Canopus Planet.”

Shar smiled, but in a way Prynn had noticed before, like a mask with no emotion behind it; she had always taken the empty expression to be his form of a polite response. She had wanted him to ask her what surfingwas, but he would not let go of his question to her. “I think you know what I mean,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding, “I do.” She ducked back down and pulled a ration pack from the survival cache. Holding it up so that Shar could see it, she asked, “Would you like something to eat?”

“No, thank you,” he said.

Prynn walked around the locker and back over to where Shar lay on his back atop his bedroll. On the way, she decided that she was glad they had opted to transport. Unable to get much closer to the source of the pulse, they had done as her father had ordered and beamed in the opposite direction. She did not believe that it would do them any good, but she was pleased that she no longer had to see the shuttle wreckage. The rest of their new surroundings appeared the same as the old—flat and featureless—just without the embellishment of the crash site. Now there’s a regret for you,she thought. If I’d only been able to land the shuttle….

Shaking off the thought, she sat down on her own bedroll, awkwardly lowering herself onto it. Though they had taken off their helmets, neither she nor Shar had removed their environmental suits since they had transported. In Shar’s case, with his mangled leg, the process would have been unnecessarily painful. And since he had not been able to take off his suit, Prynn had simply not bothered to take off hers.

She began to unwrap the ration pack. Beside her, Shar said, “I should have gone home sooner.” Prynn looked over and saw him staring up at the sky. She did not say anything. If he needed to talk about this now, then she would let him. “I could have taken a leave of absence from Starfleet,” he went on. “I could have even gotten posted to some planetside assignment on Andor.” He paused, and when the seconds began to stretch out, Prynn felt that she should say something.

“I’m not so sure how easy it is to get Starfleet to transfer you wherever you want to go,” she offered.

Shar turned his head to the side and looked over at her. “I was selfish,” he said flatly.

Prynn looked at him for a moment, and then said, “I don’t know you very well, Shar, but you don’t strike me as a selfish person. I suspect that if you were, then you wouldn’t be feeling such remorse right now.” She glanced down at the partially unwrapped ration pack in her lap, and found that she really was not hungry after all.

Shar turned his head back and stared up at the sky again. “I just wish I had done things in a different way,” he said.

“We all make choices,” Prynn told him. “And they’re not always the right ones.” She thought she had come to understand that in the past few days better than she ever had. “Look, you can’t change the past,” she said, and the picture of her mother’s face rose immediately in her mind. Not wanting to risk any painful emotions following after it, she quickly pushed the image away. “At least, you can’t change it,” she said, seeking to lighten the moment, “without getting paid a visit by the Department of Temporal Investigations.”