“The Attainder is the result of how some Bajorans view you,” Akaar said. “Or perhaps it is not even that, but a form of political expediency. But with respect to you, Colonel, it is not the Attainder that interests me, but how you have dealt with it. You have carried on, and not just for yourself, but in continued service to your people.” The words surprised Kira, not because they were not true—they were—but because they revealed an opinion she would never have guessed Akaar to possess.
“Perhaps I owe you an apology, then,” she said. But then, recalling that the admiral had certainly not made his stay at Deep Space 9 an easy one for her, she added, “Or perhaps you owe me one.”
“Perhaps neither,” Akaar countered. He reached forward and picked up his glass of grosz,finishing it. “Would you like another?” he asked.
Kira held up her glass and saw that it was still half full. Quickly, she raised the glass to her lips, threw her head back, and downed the rest of her drink. Then she held the glass out to the admiral, and said, “Yes, thank you.”
For the first time that she had seen, Akaar smiled. He took her glass and walked back across the room, returning a moment later with two new drinks. He handed one to Kira across the table, and remained standing. “Colonel, I believe that you and I have similar feelings about our peoples,” he said. He paused, and then added, “Although I may have more frustrations with mine.”
“Oh, I’ve had plenty of frustrations myself,” Kira said. “Back in the days of the provisional government…” She did not need to finish the sentence.
“I understand,” he said. He seemed to consider something very seriously for a moment, and then he said, “On my world, the Ten Tribes have warred sporadically for most of my life.” Kira wondered how long that was, and suddenly had the sense that Akaar was a great deal older than she had assumed from his appearance. “Numerous leaders have stepped forward through the years,” he went on, “and attempted to unify all the people. Some succeeded, but only for short times. Many of Capella’s greatest leaders were deposed, others were…others were killed.” Genuine emotion appeared on Akaar’s features, an expression of terrible sadness, Kira thought. The admiral absently sipped at his drink, and then said, “I was the victim of a coup myself.”
“You?” Kira asked.
He moved back to the chair and sat down. “I was a boy,” he said. “Born into leadership, a teer at birth.” Kira gathered that teerwas the title given to Capellan leaders. “My mother served as my regent, and it was she who took me from our world and got me to safety when our government was overthrown.”
“Have you ever gone back?” Kira asked.
“Many times,” Akaar said. “I have had a long life, and my people are a good, strong people…perhaps too strong in some ways. The unity we need eludes us.”
“I’m sorry,” Kira said. “I think I understand.”
“I believe that you do, Colonel,” Akaar agreed. “For more than a century, the Federation has provided my people with food and medicine…they have dramatically improved the quality of health care. Before my birth, Starfleet officers even saved my mother’s life. For a long time, I have wished for the opportunities for my people that Federation membership would bring.”
“Will it ever happen?” Kira wanted to know.
“I hope so,” Akaar said, melancholy tainting his voice. “But certainly not in my lifetime. I’ve had to admit to myself that we Capellans have not matured enough as a society to become part of a greater community.” It seemed a difficult admission for him. “I’m envious of your people,” he said, holding his glass up again, “Bajor has come far since the Occupation, and you should be proud of that, Colonel.”
“I am proud of that,” Kira said, but she heard a hesitancy in her tone. “I am,” she repeated, stronger.
Akaar must have sensed her momentary uncertainty, because he asked, “Do you have concerns?”
“Yes,” she confessed, “but not exactly about my people. I favor Federation membership, but tonight, after the first minister’s announcement, I found myself worrying about Bajorans being able to retain their identity now.”
“The Federation has chosen to invite and accept Bajor into our community because Bajorans offer their own uniqueness,” Akaar told her. “There will be no need and no desire to change that. This union is not about how Bajor can be made to fit into the Federation, but rather how the Federation can be made into a part of Bajor.”
Kira smiled, those ideas precisely what she had hoped for, and the words precisely what she had needed to hear tonight. “Thank you, Admiral,” she said.
“You should be proud not only of your people,” Akaar said, “but of yourself, and your part in leading them.”
“I feel privileged to serve.”
“And you will continue to do so,” Akaar said. “I am not supposed to tell you this, but when the Bajoran Militia is absorbed into Starfleet, not only will you be offered a captaincy, but you will be asked to remain in command of Deep Space 9.”
Kira smiled again, realizing that she had never really considered the possibility that she could be reassigned elsewhere once Bajor joined the Federation. “Thank you,” she said again.
“It was not completely my decision, Colonel,” Akaar said, “but those were my recommendations.”
Kira regarded the admiral, amazed at how completely she had misread his motives and judgments. At the same time, she remembered how easy he had made it for her to do so. Something else occurred to her, and she immediately asked the question that rose in her mind. “What about Lieutenant Ro?”
In an instant, Akaar’s demeanor changed. His face seemed to harden, his body to tense. “A determination about Lieutenant Ro has not yet been made,” he said.
Kira persisted, convinced, after serving with Ro for months, that the station’s security chief was being unfairly judged. “And what were yourrecommendations about Ro?” she asked.
“They differed considerably from my recommendations about you, Colonel,” Akaar said. “My opinions about Ro Laren have been on record for a long time.”
Kira nodded, understanding, but also realizing that people changed. Captain Sisko had shunned the title and responsibilities of the Emissary at first, and then had come to embrace them. Damar had been an ugly, hateful man, who had come to acknowledge and regret the terrible things he had done, and had become a strong and worthy leader. And even Kira herself…after the Occupation, she had for a long time resisted the prospect of Bajor joining the Federation, but now…
“Opinions about Capellans have existed for a long time too, I imagine,” Kira finally said. “But maybe in the future, how they learn to comport themselves going forward will matter more than how they did in the past.” Her message to the admiral was clear: Ro deserved another chance, or at the very least, another evaluation.
“Maybe,” Akaar said, the analogy obviously not lost on him. But he appeared unconvinced about either Lieutenant Ro or his own people.
Kira held up her glass of groszonce more. “To Capella,” she said.
Akaar did not smile, but he regarded Kira with what seemed to be an expression of appreciation. He lifted his glass. “To Bajor,” he said.
Kira leaned forward in her chair, holding her glass out to the admiral. He leaned forward himself, and touched his glass to hers. “To newer worlds,” she said.
68
The door opened, and Ezri stepped onto the bridge. Julian stood at her side, wanting to assist her, she suspected, but respecting her need to walk onto the bridge unaided. She was still recuperating from her latest experience with the thoughtscape, but when she had received word from Bowers that something was happening on the planet, she had wanted to be here. Julian had understood, and had put up no argument.