“Colonel,” Ro said, sounding startled as she looked up from the display on her desk.

“You sound surprised to see me,” Kira said.

“Oh, well, yes,” Ro admitted, “but only because I was just sending you a message to see if I could meet with you tomorrow.” She glanced back down at her desk and touched a control. “But I guess I don’t need to do that now.”

“What did you want to see me about?” Kira asked. She noticed the security monitors behind Ro, and was pleased to see that all of the holding cells stood empty.

“Well,” Ro started, sitting back in her chair, “about Quark.” Kira smiled, although she felt no humor. The answer hardly came as a shock to her. With Odo gone, it had only been a matter of time before the unscrupulous Ferengi had begun to extend the limits of his attempts to bend, if not break, the law. Kira had certainly expected him to grow bolder with the changes in station security personnel over the past months.

“What’s he done now?” Kira asked. “He and Morn aren’t staging vole fights again, are they?” Before the Europani refugees had left the station, two of them had complained of seeing the oversized Cardassian rodents, though at the time, Kira had ascribed the reports to overactive imaginations.

“No, no,” Ro said. “Actually, it’s not Quark that’s the problem; it’s Taran’atar.”

Kira blinked. “Taran’atar?” she said, a sudden sense of dread washing over her about what Ro might say. Part of the feeling, she knew, was personal—she had begun to like the Jem’Hadar—but part of it stemmed from persistent concerns about the Dominion. Kira had noticed Taran’atar spending less time in ops during the last few days, and she had intended to ask him about it. She had assumed that he had been using the holosuites, engaging in his combat programs. Now, she hoped that had been the case, and that the trouble that had arisen was no more serious than a complaint from Quark about the holosuites being damaged. She stepped forward and took one of the chairs in front of the desk. “What happened?” she asked Ro.

The security chief related a story about Taran’atar unshrouding in the bar a short time ago and frightening Quark’s customers. That might not have been so bad by itself, Kira thought, but then Ro talked about a report she had only just received. Yesterday, apparently, Taran’atar had unexpectedly appeared in one of the child-care facilities on the station, scaring everybody there—so much so that they had even been fearful of informing security about it. It was one sort of misdeed to bother patrons in a bar, Kira thought, and something else entirely to terrorize children.

Kira stood up and paced the security office, her arms folded, still holding the padd. She turned back toward the desk and started to ask questions about what had occurred in the child-care facility, but Ro told her that she had not yet begun to investigate the episode. She had witnessed the aftermath of Taran’atar’s appearance in Quark’s, though. “I don’t think he meant to unshroud,” Ro said, “and I really don’t think he meant to scare anybody, but he certainly did.”

“Not just Quark?” Kira asked, walking back toward the desk.

“No,” Ro said. “I saw a lot of people racing out of the bar, and it seemed pretty clear who they were racing away from.”

“All right,” Kira said. “I’ll speak to Taran’atar about it tomorrow.” Today had been a long enough day without adding any additional responsibilities to it. After she left here, she intended to head straight for her quarters.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Ro said.

Kira sighed and sat back down. This was not a problem she wanted to have right now, just days ahead of the summit between Bajor and the Federation—which was the subject she had actually come here to discuss. She informed Ro about the impending arrivals of the Bajoran, Trill, and Alonis delegations on Deep Space 9, and about the need for heightened, but discreet, security.

Ro moved forward in her chair, leaning her elbows on her desk. “Aren’t the Alonis water-breathers?” she asked.

“They are,” Kira said. “But they won’t be expecting us to modify any of our accommodations for them. They’ll be using aquatic rebreathing devices while they’re on the station, and they’ll return to their ship every night.” She looked down and activated the padd she had brought with her. It came to life with a chirp, and she handed it across the desk to Ro. “This is a list of the members of all the delegations,” Kira said. “Councillor zh’Thane and Admiral Akaar will be attending the talks as well.”

Ro took the padd and glanced at its contents, then looked back up at Kira. “What’s this about?” she asked.

Kira hesitated briefly, recalling how secretive Akaar had been about the summit, but then she decided that the security chief would need as much information as possible in order to properly discharge her duty. Kira told Ro about Bajor’s renewed petition for membership in the Federation, and that the coming talks would produce an outcome, one way or the other.

Ro’s mouth opened as Kira spoke, and the color drained from her face. Kira saw but did not understand the reaction. Ro looked off to the side, as though in thought. “I knew there was a reason he was at the station,” she said, almost too quietly to hear.

“You mean Admiral Akaar?” Kira asked.

Ro turned back to Kira as though waking from a daydream. “Oh, uh, yes,” she said. Ro’s expression went blank. “I’d just been wondering why he’s been here at DS9,” she said, but Kira could see that there was more to Ro’s reaction than simply casual curiosity. She remembered Akaar’s concerns about Ro’s abilities and her dedication to duty.

“Do you know the admiral?” Kira asked. “I mean, did you know him prior to him coming to the station?”

“Yes,” Ro said. “When I was in Starfleet. We had a…professional disagreement.” The admission was clearly uncomfortable for her to make.

“What sort of ‘professional disagreement’?” Kira asked.

“I’d…prefer not to discuss it, Colonel,” Ro said.

Kira quickly grew angry at the uncommunicative response—she had about had enough of those lately—but she just as quickly squelched the feeling. As commander of the station, she continued trying to prevent herself from reacting too hastily in any circumstances. Now, instead, she attempted to put herself in Ro’s place, imagining a disagreement between herself and a superior—and the Prophets only knew how many times that had happened during her life. She only had to think of the Attainder for evidence of that. “I understand, Lieutenant,” Kira said. “But I have to ask you if this disagreement with the admiral will have any effect on the performance of your duties.”

“No, sir,” Ro said definitively. “Not from my end.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I need to know about this,” Kira asked. “Because if there is, I want to know about it now.”

Ro did not answer right away, but paused and seemed to consider the question, which Kira appreciated. Still, Kira did not expect Ro to divulge what she had already chosen to keep to herself.

“Colonel,” Ro said at last, “the admiral doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him either. He probably doesn’t think I’m capable of doing this job, or any other job, for that matter. Frankly, I don’t care. I’m going to do my job the way I’m supposed to, the way you expect me to, no matter what the admiral thinks.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kira said, satisfied with both Ro’s honesty and her attitude. She stood up. “Develop a security plan for the period that the delegations will be on the station, and let’s meet in my office tomorrow morning to discuss it. Ten hundred hours.”

“Yes, sir,” Ro said. “Thank you.”

Kira nodded, then turned and left, the doors opening at her approach. She felt positive about the meeting she had just had with Ro, but as she walked along the Promenade, she realized that she also felt uneasy—not about Ro, but once more about Admiral Akaar.