Maybe.
Or maybe not?
Another thought she couldn’t wrap her brain around this morning. At least not until she’d had another raktajino.
As soon as Kira stepped into ops, Ensign Beyer thrust a padd containing the minute details regarding Macet’s visit into Kira’s hand and began a recitation of her most recent accomplishments. Instead of waving her aside, Kira commended the anxious ensign’s efforts and hastily retreated to—
—my office,she thought, still amazed by the twists and turns of her life that had brought her here. The more Kira flexed the muscle of her position as station commander, the more she enjoyed it. Hell, she’d be happy if the only perk of being in charge was not having to indulge every whim of the egomaniacs populating the upper echelons of the Bajoran Militia and government. Most days, her job title allowed her to skip implementing stupid directives passed down by bureaucrats. On Deep Space 9, herword was law.
Still, she marveled at how quickly self-interest supplanted concern for the collective good that marked the Occupation era. Former comrades-in-arms who, in earlier days, would have shared food off her utensils, wouldn’t bother to acknowledge her pleas for personnel or supplies if it didn’t benefit them personally. As hard as the resistance days were, Kira missed how basic Bajor’s needs were then—how simple the goals. Shakaar’s tireless efforts since the end of the war to make Bajor a more active participant in the community of the Alpha Quadrant were steering the people into a new and much more complex age, compelling them to face the question of how to move forward anew as Federation citizens. Bajor could reclaim its former greatness, of that Kira was confident, but not without the growing pains innate to any change. Part of Kira’s job, as Deep Space 9’s commander, was to help ease those pains by tackling her share of unpleasant tasks. And she knew as soon as she signed off with Macet that one of those unpleasant tasks would be awaiting her arrival in ops.
She sighed: she couldn’t put off contacting Shakaar any longer. Kira took a seat behind the desk, cleared her throat and told Selzner to open a channel to Bajor.
After several annoyingly long delays as her request to speak to the First Minister went up the chain of government underlings, Shakaar appeared on the viewscreen, frowning. “Nerys,”he said, curtly. “We’re quite busy here.”
Kira understood his unspoken message: you’d better have a damn good reason for disrupting me during these delicate and politically sensitive negotiations. Well, things are about to get more delicate,she thought.
“First Minister,” she began, proceeding to outline what little she knew of Macet’s mission and a few of the details of his impending arrival.
Shakaar absorbed her report without surprise. “Thank you for this news, Colonel. I admit we suspected something like this was coming. The timing is rather unfortunate; whatever the Cardassians want, it will best be dealt with on the station, I think. The talks with the Federation could easily be upstaged and we can’t risk that. Make whatever preparations are necessary to properly host them.”
“Of course. Can I tell them when you’ll be available to meet with them?” Kira crossed her fingers, hoping Shakaar wouldn’t expect her to babysit Macet’s group for an indefinite period of time.
“Give me a few days to wrap up some loose ends here. I’ll be back on the station before the end of the week.”
Kira hoped she didn’t look too relieved. “Thank you, Minister. I’ll get back to you when—”
“Come to think of it,”he interrupted, “a reception would be the polite way to receive them.”
“Excuse me?” Kira said, uncertain where Shakaar was taking this line of thinking.
“We need to facilitate their introduction to Admiral Akaar, Councillor zh’Thane, and the other dignitaries in the system. We can’t assume they’ll randomly bump into each other in the habitat ring.”Shakaar was gesturing animatedly with his hands, a trait Kira recognized as something he used when he was conveying his plans for a surprise assault on a Cardassian patrol. “We need to do this properly. Show how we’ve mastered the finer points of diplomacy. Bajor, after all, is a citizen of the quadrant.”
“That’s a fine idea, First Minister. Just let me know what kind of support you’ll need from my staff. I’m assuming Lieutenant Ro will provide security—”
Shakaar smiled broadly. “No, Nerys. I believe you’re misunderstanding me. I’d like you to take charge of this event.”
Kira stared. Be calm, Nerys. Don’t let him dare you into saying something you’ll regret,she thought, biting back a curt reply she longed to deliver coupled with a vivid scatological epithet. “I’m hardly qualified to work on issues of interstellar protocol. I’d probably end up seating the Romulan attaché next to the Klingon delegate and then where would we be?” She smiled insincerely, curling her fingers into tight fists.
“Colonel, I don’t need to remind you how fully occupied my own staff is at this time. Not to mention that most of the Militia is still cleaning up the vestiges of the Europani matter.”Shakaar shrugged his shoulders. “At the moment, I can’t spare the personnel. You’re familiar with the parties involved—you and your people have had more direct dealings with Lang and Macet than any of us—I think that qualifies you perfectly.”
Taking a deep breath, Kira rose from her seat and laced her hands behind her back, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. “Really, First Minister, I have to protest. I believe this is a case of misplaced belief in my abilities.”
“My aide Sirsy will be at your disposal. She’ll contact you with the list of Bajorans I believe should attend. She’ll also give you our tentative schedule over the next week or so,”Shakaar said. “Have somefaith , Nerys. Shakaar out.”
When her desk screen abruptly reverted to its standby pattern, the most profane word Kira knew tore itself from her throat. He’s not going to let me forget who’s really in charge here. That he could use my religious situation to punish me. On his whim I could be back on Bajor planting crops before the next moon waxes.She gritted her teeth. And who in the hell decided I needed to moonlight as the station’s social secretary?As she touched her combadge, the inklings of a plan began forming in her mind. What was the first rule of leadership? Know how to delegate. Ensign Beyer seemed anxious to please. A crash course in diplomatic reception planning would keep her busy and out of Kira’s way. And the Cardassians? She’d be damned if she had to be the only one yanked around by this unexpected visit. “Kira to Ro.”
“Yes, Colonel?”
“You learned something of diplomacy when you served on the Enterprise?”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“The Cardassians, Lieutenant. You’ve been appointed to head Deep Space 9’s welcoming committee.”
When Beyer notified Ro that the Tragerwould be docking within the hour, the lieutenant used her remaining time to review any information Odo might have accumulated about the ship’s passengers. Only Lang and Macet proved to have substantive entries in the station’s database.
Because Macet’s military career apparently had never taken him to Bajor until recently, the most information she found on him was in a Starfleet Intelligence file that had recently been uploaded to the station from Command. Presumably Kira had requested the file following her encounter with the gul during the Europani evacuation. Among other things, it included Captain Picard’s official report on the Phoenixaffair that Macet had been involved in, plus some recent updates by Kira and Vaughn. But little else.
Lang was another matter; Ro found the name cross-referenced in more than a dozen files outside her own. While Ro appreciated Odo’s thorough but terse summaries of facts and observations, she found his subtext most illuminating.