Ezri returned to the bridge. She spotted Alden at his post at the conn, apparently brooding, as he prepared the ship for standard docking. He’d gotten through the mission without any mishaps, either personally or through a confrontation with Kira. That was a relief. She felt herself unwind a little.

“A slip of latinum for your thoughts,” she teased, leaning close enough so just he could hear.

“My thoughts? I’m not sure that ship was the same one we tried to track during the war,” he said moodily.

“Why?” Ezri asked.

“These didn’t seem ... especially competent in their attack.”

“If they only attacked freighters or lightly armed ships, without warning, during the war, they wouldn’t have needed to be especially good. Maybe this time they got careless.”

“Maybe....”

“And the war’s been over for a while — maybe they’ve been in hiding all this time, maybe it’s wearing them down. Or they could have been part of an attack unit, but this time they were on their own and they messed up.”

“Or maybe it’s not the same ship.”

“Maybe it’s not; there could have been a number of them out here,” she acknowledged. “But, in any event, you did a good job. And I think you proved something.”

“To Kira?” he replied, his tone shifting from brooding into anger as easily as sand on a wave-tossed beach.

“Perhaps.” She shrugged. “But definitely to yourself. That’s worth a lot.”

“Ooh, do I get a gold star?” he asked sarcastically.

Ezri’s mood was too relieved to destroy. “Yes!” she flashed back saucily. “And when we get back to the station, I’d like to buy you a drink.”

“So we can discuss this all in terms of my counseling?”

“We can discuss whatever you like.”

“Will you wear your feathered hat?” he came back somewhere between a joke and a mocking challenge.

Ezri giggled. “Just for that, you’re buying!” She stood upright and left the bridge.

Kasidy found her crew gathering in the mess hall. Pokel rushed over with a glad shout as soon as she entered; the others quickly gathered around her too. She hugged the girl and looked to see who was present.

“How are Gale and Nehelae? Have we heard?” she asked, seeing two of her surviving crew weren’t there.

Dellin, the ship’s medic, spoke up briskly from where she was running a dermal regenerator over Cartier’s fingers, singed by sparks when the gravity went out. “They’re fusing Gale’s ankle and leg bones — the nurse was fretting over how one boy could break so many little bones at one time. Nehelae is still in surgery, but the nurse was optimistic, said it will take time but he will be all right.” She gave a pleased smile. “I’ll bring him some bateret leaves as soon as he’s out of the operating room.”

“I know he’ll appreciate that, Darna.” Kasidy looked around again.

Three faces gone forever. Three dead. Rosha Zimbaret, the Human/Haliian engineer, whose husky voice echoed softly through the ship at all hours. Torm, the Andorian freight handler whose primary hobby was brawling. Tess McKennitt, the Human from the Jupiter station, a jack-of-all-trades on the ship, from navigation to computer systems to EVA pod-shifting, and all with a cheeky grin.

“We should have a moment of silence for our missing friends,” she said softly.

Most of the crew fell silent, their features reflective.

Pokel stated, quietly reverent but quite clearly, “The Prophets saved their own.”

Kasidy stared at her, startled. “What?”

“The Prophets spared the believers,” she came back matter-of-factly. “If the others had been Bajoran—“

“Their deaths had nothing to do with them not being Bajoran!” she snapped at the girl.

“But those who follow the will of the Prophets survived,” Pokel replied, her head a little hunched down and her face revealing that she was hurt. “The Prophets saved us.”

Kasidy sent a stunned glance Cartier’s way. He raised his shoulders slowly. Around him, some of the crew exchanged uneasy glances.

“Lou isn’t Bajoran,” she shot back with a gesture at the human engineer. “He doesn’t believe in the Prophets — if you believe the Prophets saved only their followers, why didn’t they let him die?”

“They didn’t will the deaths of anyone on our ship. But they prevented the faithful from dying. No one who was with you died. And on the rest of the ship, no Bajorans died. Even Renyl, who was hurt so bad,” the girl came back with unexpected obstinacy. No one else seemed inclined to join the argument.

“Temma-demoiselle....”

“We live by the will of the Prophets! Even you. If the Emissary’s wife had not been with us, we would have died!”

“Unless the Prophets said otherwise?” Cartier asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

Kasidy suspected there would be no changing the girl’s mind. And she could see in the expressions of the others around her, that many of the crew felt the same way. But the last thing she wanted was for the people of Bajor to believe that she had become a funnel for the blessings of their mysterious Prophets, or to believe that she had the gift of life to bestow.

“I am not a Prophet. I don’t believe the Prophets are deities—“

“Not even the Emissary?” she heard someone ask in disbelief.

“Especially not Ben!” she shot back. “I lived with him, remember? So I know! He was a man, a wonderful man, but just a man — and the Prophets may be very powerful, but they are only—”

“Kasidy.”

She glared at Vinj, as furious that he’d interrupted her as she was at most of her crew, at that moment.

“We are all grieving our friends, and relieved at our own survival. As you said, we need a few moments to recollect ourselves, and remember.”

That was about as personal and emotional a statement as she’d every heard the taciturn man make publicly. She clamped her jaw.

“Hello...,” came another voice. Dax entered the mess hall, scanning the crew that made such a crowd in the small chamber.

“What are you doing here?” Pokel demanded petulantly, before anyone else could speak.

“Temma!” Cartier put a big hand on the young girl’s shoulder.

“My name is Ezri. I’m from the station, and a friend of your captain. I guess I thought maybe somebody here ... would like to talk to somebody. About what happened today. How they feel or what they need, just now.”

“We need only the Prophets, their words, and their Emissary and his gifts to us,” Pokel said defiantly, then shook off the engineer’s hand and turned away.

“Come.” His stern voice carrying with unusual strength, Vinj summoned the rest together with a word, then nodded at Kasidy and moved to the far end of the chamber. He caught Pokel’s arm and dragged her along with the rest.

Dax cast an uncertain glance at Kasidy, then back at the crew, now clustered and beginning to murmur a Bajoran death chant. “What did I just walk in on?” she asked in an undertone.

“She’s decided the Prophets spared the Bajorans on the ship and only decided to kill non-Bajorans.”

The Trill’s eyes opened so wide they nearly popped out of her head.

Kasidy sighed deeply, trying to relax a little and convince herself of what she was saying. “Temma’s stubborn and convinced that what she believes is right. She’s been through a lot, with the way she grew up. Their faith is all that sustained a lot of the Bajorans through the occupation. Then, with the day we had today....”

Dax forced a nod. “You’re right. I’m sure that when she ... thinks about it, and when it sinks in, she’ll feel some grief and sympathy, and a little less self-righteous about why she lived and some others didn’t.”

The two women looked at each other, each realizing that statement hadn’t come out quite right either, but was true.

Before either could say anything else, Commander Alden’s voice broke in overhead through shipwide comm. “Stand by for docking. All hands, docking stations. We have reached the station. Stand by....”

“I think I’ll get back to sick bay, see how Gale and Nehelae are doing,” Kasidy murmured.

“I’ll ... see how you’re doing later,” Dax replied.

Kasidy had the impression the young officer would have accompanied her, but changed her mind mid-thought. She nodded a farewell, and left.

From the entrance to the airlock, Ezri watched the station seem to close in on the Defiant and overwhelm it, until all she could see was the airlock in the docking ring. They came together with no difficulties.

She felt a little moody herself, after the last few minutes with Kasidy and her crew.

“Well, I suppose two out of three isn’t bad,” she mused to herself. “I helped Kira. I think I helped Alden. Can’t expect to make a difference for everybody, in a minute or two. Of course, it wasn’t Kasidy, it was her entire crew that made me feel like I didn’t belong there and couldn’t help anyone, and I wasn’t going to have Monrow glaring at me....”

Why did she feel like had to take care of everybody’s problems? She hadn’t always felt that way. She was starting to think like Julian, she thought — and remembered comments Jadzia had made to him, years ago, about the arrogance of thinking that any one person could fix everything, or else it couldn’t be fixed....

Thinking of Julian brought back memories of the dreams she’d been having since he left. Maybe he taunted her in those dreams, as a reminder of how she’d once challenged him to look beyond himself? Or maybe it was a fear that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t really help anybody....

“Counselor, counsel thyself,” she muttered, trying to put those thoughts out of her mind.

A little downcast, she waited for the click of sealing and the whoosh as the airlocks opened, then left the Defiant.

A few hours later, reports completed and the festival celebration at its usual levels of gaiety for the middle of the night, Kira sought out Kasidy. She found her in the quarters that were maintained for her on the station, robe-clad and sitting curled up on one of the couches, staring at a picture on the wall. The light was dim, except for the spotlight on the image. It was a landscape, of the Yolja River flowing through a wide green meadow in a valley, with a grove of trees in the distance at the foothills of a mountain. It was a picture of the land Captain Sisko had purchased, before anything had been built there.

Kira could see that the other woman was upset and probably wanted her privacy, but she was also too concerned to walk back out without saying something.

“I thought I’d find you in the infirmary,” she ventured. “Are you all right?”

After a moment, Kasidy replied distractedly, “I’m fine. Just needed time to think.”

“Were you close to them?” Kira eased into the sofa opposite the other woman.

“Rosha won’t sing anymore. She had the most beautiful voice. Tess was our mischief-maker. I don’t think we made port anywhere without her getting into some kind of trouble, and always managing to charm her way out of it with her smile and humor.” Kasidy’s voice was far away, answering Kira’s question in a roundabout way. “Torm.... He grew up in space and that’s all he ever wanted, just to make his way through life with a fight here and there to prove himself, and the knowledge that he had a job waiting for him afterward.” She focused again. “I know Gale is going to be fine. How’s Nehelae?”

“Dr. Monrow says he’ll be all right, too. Caryn’s with him now.”

Kasidy nodded distractedly.

She studied her friend’s features, seeing the set of her jaw and the lines around her eyes. “What is it, Kasidy? What’s bothering you? You’re angry as much as grieving, I can tell. More than the attack, I think. What happened?”

“What? Oh....” She shook her head dismissively, evading conversation.

Kira figured she knew the source of that look. “The story’s already all over the station,” she admitted aloud, knowing how uncomfortable Kasidy would feel about it. “How the Prophets spared all the Bajorans on your ship, that the only ones who died were those who didn’t believe in the Prophets and the Emissary.”

Kasidy responded tartly, “I still don’t believe the Prophets are deities! And not all the Bajorans on my ship consider the Emissary to be a god.”

“The girl told Ranjen Shayl that you had a pagh’tem’far, that the Prophets came to you on the Xhosa, in the middle of the battle.” Her voice shook just a little.

The other woman glanced at her, but her gaze quickly slid away as if uncomfortable. “I suppose that’s what happened.”

“You know that, to us,” Kira ventured carefully, “that would be considered a great honor.“

“Not you too....”

“No, I’m not, but—“

Kasidy groaned and flung out a hand as if to wave her away. “The only way I’m going to get any peace is if I leave this whole system!”

Kira’s heart almost stopped. “You can’t leave — Kasidy, you’re not serious! Please, say you’re not leaving!”

The other woman sat still for a moment, staring down at her lap, the fingers of one hand tracing small circles over her abdomen. She looked very tired.

Kasidy finally looked back at Kira. “No,” she said quietly. “I suppose not. I wouldn’t know where I’d go. And ... Ben wants me to stay here. For now, at least.”

“I’m glad,” Kira said softly.

“But I am not going to let the people here turn me into a religious icon like they did him,” she said more strongly. “I’m not the Emissary and I’m not one of your Prophets.”

“No, you’re not. But you are a center of faith for many of our people, a symbol. You’re a gift. You’re proof that the Emissary hasn’t left us. I’m glad you’re staying.”

A brief look of distaste crossed Kasidy’s dark features. “A gift of faith from the Emissary. Is that the only reason you’re glad?”

“It would be reason enough,” Kira acknowledged. “But no, it’s not the only reason. I’m glad because you’re my friend.”

Kasidy nodded, a little reluctantly. “I appreciate that, Nerys. And I value your friendship too.” A beat. “Do you know who attacked us?”

“The evidence so far is inconclusive. Although the proximity to Breen space suggests they were behind this. We have no idea why. Commander Alden said there were similar attacks during the war, but they never got close enough to learn much about them. Starfleet Command assures us they’ll keep us updated on the situation, but the Breen are a little closer to Bajor than I’d like, just now.”

“I see.” She leaned on her elbow on the couch arm. “I don’t suppose it really matters who did it, or why. Knowing who it was won’t make any difference to Tess or Rosha or Torm.”

“No, it won’t.” A pause. “Do they have families?”

“Only Tess. But they weren’t close. I suppose I should send a message....”

“You can use my office, if you like, tonight or tomorrow,” Kira offered.

“Thank you, Nerys. I will. Tomorrow.”

The colonel nodded, then searched for words. “If some of the Breen are taking to piracy, or worse, in this sector, it might not be ... the safest for unarmed freighters to be using the Letharan belt. For the time being. You might want to consider....”

“Keeping my ship here? Or just keeping me on the station or on Bajor?” the other woman asked bluntly, her tone sharper than it had been before. The anger faded as quickly as it had come. “Don’t push me. I don’t want to think about that tonight. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I’d just like to go to bed, start tomorrow when it comes.”

“All right.” Kira slid out of the couch. “Can I invite you to join me for breakfast in the morning?”

That earned a wan smile. “I’d like that too. As long as we don’t talk about the Prophets or visions. And as long as it’s just us.”

“All right. I promise.”

“Good night, Nerys.”

“Good night, Kasidy. Sleep well.”

Kira left the chamber, her thoughts a somber mixture of concerns. If Kasidy should decide to leave Bajor after all.... If the Breen had decided to make nearby sectors their hunting grounds.... She couldn’t enjoy what was left of the festival.