“You caught me.”Kas smiled, allowing the yarn to roll off her lap. She looked up at Kira. “I’d like the company. Someone who knows me for me and not merely as the Emissary’s wife and mother of the Avatar. And don’t forget the farmers are bringing in the katerpods over the next few weeks. You don’t want to miss that!”

Memories of dark, smoky autumn nights nudged their way into the present. Kira sighed, feeling pangs of longing for those few simple moments her people had stolen from the Occupation: walking winding farm lanes with lighted copper lanterns to ward off the inky darkness, and singing the harvest melodies, thanking the Prophets for another year of bounty, even though that bounty might be little more than a handful of katerpods.

“I know you want to visit,”Kas said. “I have your room all ready—it has a lovely view of the river. They’re starting the sugaring in a few weeks….”Her voice trailed off, her tone teasing and tempting.

“All right, all right! You’ve convinced me.” Kira held up a hand in good-natured protest. “I’ll talk to my staff and see what works best into the station’s schedule.”

“If you’re structuring your plans on the station’s schedule, you’ll be here about the time my child’s grandchildren are born,”Kasidy snorted.

… and that may be how long it takes for my fellow Bajorans to start speaking to me again, all things considered,Kira thought ruefully. “Work before play, Kas. You know the drill.”

“Yeah, I do,”Kasidy nodded. “But that doesn’t stop me from trying. We’ll talk next week?”

“Sooner if we have word from Jake. I promise.”

Kasidy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “And please let there be word from Jake,”she said, invoking whatever powers the universe might use to bring him back home.

“Prophets willing, Kas,” Kira said earnestly. She straightened up, slapped her thighs and smiled to lighten the mood; she wanted to end their conversation on a positive note for Kasidy’s sake. “Besides, I’ll want you to tell me how well the herb packs worked on those swollen ankles. Without having Julian around to tell you how it’s all just a bunch of folk hokum, you don’t have any excuse not to try them.”

Kasidy smiled. “Yates out.”

Before Kasidy’s face winked out, Kira noted that it had started to exhibit that soft roundness characteristic of mid-pregnancy. Her hand dropped to her own belly and she ran her fingers over her flat stomach, remembering what it felt like to carry a life inside her. She wondered how Kirayoshi liked Earth, if her presence even shaded his memories.

Enough, Nerys, this is the part where you look at your endless to-do list and come up with meaningful reasons why you won’t be tumbling back to your quarters until after midnight.She gave a cursory glance to a half dozen padds sitting on her desk. Ro’s mostly informational report on the Ohalavaru trinkets left on her doorstep awaited her attention. In moments of morbid curiosity, she watched reports from the Bajoran news feeds, read the opinion pieces cropping up in the journals; the furor had yet to die down. She wanted desperately to believe that the late-night visit to her door was only a misguided gesture by some well-meaning individual. But in her heart she feared it was a portent of things to come…things she herself had set into motion by making the banned Ohalu text public.

Stop it,she told herself. This is getting you nowhere.Before diving into Ro’s report, she decided to scroll through the list of music selections in her personal database: Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Sarah Vaughn… Hmmm. I have to remember to ask Elias if there’s any relation.She mulled over the list, figuring something among the unfamiliar titles would help her to relax. They were all Captain Sisko’s choices: a gift to her some years ago on the occasion of a Terran holiday, she couldn’t recall which one. The memory made her wish she’d made as much of an effort to share Benjamin’s culture as he had always made to share hers.

“Computer,” she said finally. “Play Sisko Jazz Compilation Number Nine, track seven: ‘Yardbird.’”

A wailing alto saxophone pierced the stillness, its clear, passionate notes lulling her into passivity as she contemplated the vast canvas of stars outside her great eye of a window. I could stand here and dream all night, except for that nagging sense of duty that never goes away. Even if I put off the reports, I still have one last bit of business that won’t wait. But then what? Catch up on latest Starfleet regs. Call it a night, take a late supper in quarters.

Or not.

She hadn’t felt this restless for a long time, plagued by the feeling that she had a forgotten task. Unknown anxiety twisted her stomach. Not with anticipation so much as apprehension. What’s next? If I had a friend close by, I’d go for a walk.A stroll along the Promenade balcony would be a perfect distraction. Maybe Kasidy was right: time for a hobby. A new sport like orbital skydiving. Plant sculpting or cultivating orchids. She could start knitting something for Kasidy’s baby.

Or…I could figure out what the Cardassians are up to.

Now it was out there. She dared to think it. For the bulk of the day, Kira had ignored Macet’s surprise visit except in the most superficial terms. Avoidance wasn’t her usual method; tackling conflict head-on was more her style. Considering how she’d allocated her time these last months, Kira realized she’d spent little—if any—on Cardassian matters. Outside of keeping the supply line of humanitarian aid flowing to Cardassia as the ships came through the station, and the brief interaction she’d had with Macet during the Europani evac, Kira had pushed Cardassia far out of her train of thought. Let someone else worry about them for a change.

Hadn’t she done her part, training Damar in “Resistance 101”? To her knowledge, she was the sole Bajoran hiking through Cardassia’s bombed-out ruins after the Founders meted out their punishment. What do they want from me? From us,she amended quickly. This wasn’t personal. Whatever Macet and Lang had come for, it wasn’t about Kira Nerys.All that was required of her was to serve honorably as commander of Deep Space 9. Follow orders, make sure nothing blows up, protect the public trust, end of story. Her chapter in the Cardassian saga ended with her testimony to the Allied Tribunal negotiating the Dominion War Accords. Period.

Her stomach growled and Kira wondered if it might be time to replicate dinner. Aching muscles up and down her spine begged for attention. She ignored her discomforts. “Computer, search main library database for references to knitting with yarn.”

“Two hundred ninety-two thousand, seven hundred sixty references. Narrow search parameters.”

“Maybe I should just call Kas back,” Kira muttered.

“Input not recognized,”the computer intoned.

“Never mind. Cancel search,” Kira said irritably. The computer issued a bleat of acknowledgment before falling silent. Her musings ended abruptly when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the indicator light on her desk that signaled the arrival of a turbolift into ops. She checked the time; too early for her last appointment. Kira turned toward her office doors, looking through the windows and across ops to see who her visitor was. When she saw him, she found herself fighting down the instinct to go for her phaser.

He descended the stairs into the pit with slow, steady steps, past the situation table and toward the opposing stairs that led up to her office. She could see several of the ops crew reacting to the new arrival, looking to her for orders. In response, Kira steeled herself and touched the control on her desk that would open the office doors to admit her visitor. No ghosts tonight. No ghosts.She mouthed the words, intent on believing them.