“Yes,” Akaar said.
“I think that experience has had a profound affect on her,” Vaughn said. “She’s young to be in such a position of authority, particularly for somebody with no formal military or command training. Even so, I feel privileged to be serving under her. There are things Starfleet could stand to learn from Colonel Kira.”
Akaar found himself surprised at Vaughn’s strong assessment of Kira, considering how short a time he had served with her. “What about her feelings about the Cardassians?”
“Passionate,” Vaughn repeated.
“What exactly does that mean?” Akaar wanted to know.
Vaughn reached out, picked up his glass of grosz,and took a healthy swallow. “I don’t know her well enough to know what goes on inside of her. But I do know that she’s led a complicated and difficult life. You know what the Cardassians did not only to her people and their way of life, but to Kira personally, and to her family. She lived the first twenty-six years of her life not knowing a day of freedom from oppression, and she’s spent a good part of the past eight years fighting to prevent that from happening again.” Vaughn drank again, then lowered his glass back onto the table. “All of that, and yet she fought beside the Cardassian resistance during the war, and her first action when faced with Macet was to accept his help. And since the war, she’s been generally supportive of the relief efforts to Cardassia.”
Akaar listened to Vaughn’s comments attentively. He would still make his own judgments about Kira, but he appreciated the benefit of knowing Vaughn’s mind about the colonel. Even when Vaughn was wrong, Akaar knew, his evaluations still often managed to provide valuable insights.
Over dinner, the conversation crossed many subjects. Vaughn asked about Councillor zh’Thane, a mutual acquaintance, who had accompanied Akaar first to Bajor, then to Europa Nova, and finally, today, back here to Deep Space 9. And Akaar wanted to hear Vaughn’s account of what had gone wrong at Torona IV. Since Defiant’s nearly disastrous encounter there, diplomatic relations between the Federation and the Jarada had completely broken down. Vaughn seemed pleased to learn from Akaar that the Federation Council was content, at least for now, to let the relationship between the two governments founder; the council considered it simply too difficult right now to deal with the xenophobic, isolationist Jarada, an opinion also shared by Starfleet Command. And although the admiralty continued to consider Torona IV strategically important, Akaar explained, they were also confident that no other Alpha Quadrant power would be able to cultivate an alliance with the troublesome Jarada.
As the afternoon blended into the evening, and as the dinner and their conversation progressed, a feeling of discomfort began to overtake Akaar. In any circumstances, his presence on Deep Space 9 would have seen him visit with his old friend, but knowing that he had come to Vaughn’s quarters with an additional purpose made him uneasy. Although Akaar had been careful to maintain his usual phlegmatic manner, he thought that Vaughn might have picked up on his anxiety once or twice.
After the meal, Akaar and Vaughn repaired to the sitting area, where they sat across from each other and emptied the bottle of grosz.“No phaser practice for us tonight,” Vaughn said with a smile.
“I believe you have already stunned me,” Akaar said, holding up his glass. Then, knowing that he could put it off no longer, he asked, “How is Prynn?”
Vaughn’s expression did not change, nor did he delay in responding, which Akaar interpreted as indications that he had indeed been expecting the subject of his daughter to arise. “She’s well,” he said.
“I’ve followed her service record,” Akaar said. “Her evaluations aboard Mjolnirand Sentinelwere quite good. She is considered an exceptional conn officer.”
“ ‘A bit intense,’” Vaughn quoted one of Prynn’s previous captains, a judgment of which Akaar was aware. “But she’s young,” Vaughn explained with a shrug.
“She was not always that way,” Akaar said as gently as he could. Vaughn leaned forward and placed his glass on the low table at the center of the sitting area. Only a few sips of groszremained, Akaar saw. Vaughn rested his elbows on his knees and stared over at him, and Akaar suspected that his old friend knew where the conversation was headed.
“Do you have something to say, L.J.?” Vaughn asked.
“Elias, do you think it wise to have Prynn on Defiantfor your mission to the Gamma Quadrant?” Akaar asked. He attempted to avoid being either overly nonchalant or too intense with the question. If any chance existed of leading Vaughn to the proper course of action here, it would require a careful effort.
Vaughn continued peering at Akaar. “You said it yourself: she’s an excellent conn officer.”
“And you said, ‘a bit intense,’” Akaar countered.
“She deserves an opportunity at alpha shift,” Vaughn said, ignoring Akaar’s comment. “And right now, Defiantcan use her.”
Akaar finished his groszand deposited his glass on the table beside Vaughn’s. A purple-tinted drop slid down the inside of the glass. “There are reasons that Starfleet discourages family members from serving together,” he said.
“We send entire families out on starships these days,” Vaughn argued.
“Not the captain’s family, and certainly not when some of them are officers in the crew,” Akaar said, his voice rising as he struggled to make Vaughn see the folly and the danger of having his daughter serving aboard his ship. “You should know that better than most.”
Vaughn flew up onto his feet as though he had been launched from the sofa. He strode away from the sitting area and across the room, over to the window. He stood there for a moment, then leaned on the sill and looked out into space. He said nothing.
“Having Prynn on your bridge is irresponsible and dangerous,” Akaar said, refusing to back down, although it pained him to have to deal with Vaughn about this. “Especially if her intensity…especially if she still blames you for what happened to her mother.”
“L.J.,” Vaughn said, still gazing out the window.
“I’m sorry, Elias, but I’ve taken steps to have Prynn reassigned.”
Vaughn whirled around. “What?”
Akaar rose and regarded Vaughn across the room. He hated having to do this, but he knew that it was the right thing. He only hoped that Vaughn would be able to see that too.
“Don’t do this,” Vaughn said, seething, his words wrapped in a concentration of anger Akaar had rarely, if ever, seen in his old friend.
“Captain Mello has agreed to take Prynn aboard Gryphon,”Akaar said, “and she will reassign her alpha-shift conn officer to Deep Space 9 so that you can have him for the mission to the Gamma Quadrant.”
“Don’t do this,” Vaughn said again. “Please.”
Akaar walked over to Vaughn, hoping to close more than just the physical distance between them. He looked into Vaughn’s eyes, expecting to see anger, but instead saw only anguish. No,Akaar thought. Not just anguish.There was also something he had never before seen in Vaughn: fear. “This is the right thing,” Akaar went on. “I think you know that.”
“I know what you’re saying,” Vaughn admitted. “Do you believe I haven’t thought through all of this? I have.” He turned away again and peered out the window. “I’ve fought with myself over and over, made the same arguments that you’re making. I’ve thought about reassigning her…I’ve thought about transferring myself.”
“But you transferred here to try to mend things with Prynn in the first place,” Akaar said.
Vaughn turned from the window. “No, that’s not the case. I mean, I knew she was here, but…something else motivated me to stop what I was doing, to change my direction…”