They rematerialized in a stone corridor, only dimly lit.

Kira looked around. The walls looked rough-carved, deeply shadowed and fissured. Veins of color ran through the walls in erratic horizontal streaks, some of them glistening and almost seeming alive, others dark and dull, while one of the veins was blood-red and seemed to ooze.

“These look natural,” she noted, a bit awed. She regretted speaking almost immediately, as a strange echo came back to her like some kind of whispering spirits.

“This part is,” Rig replied in a hushed tone. “We were able to use part of a natural cave system under Peri’ketra, blocking off most of it with rockfalls to make it less easy to find. But it leads almost to the Sahving Valley, to the west, and into the Labyrinth, to the south. Far enough that our leaders should be able to reach safety, if they had to, even if an enemy leveled the city and all around it. The exits into those caverns, of course, are blocked off with force screens and holographic projectors.”

Kira pulled out a tricorder; they hadn’t been able to use it in the complex — too many people to detect one moving man. But here....

“I’m not picking up anything,” she whispered, puzzled.

Rig sighed. “Another benefit of the rock through this part of the system, as far as security if the first minister and kai had to use this escape — tricorders can’t read through the ores. Some of the resistance cells in the peninsula used these caves for just that reason. Fortunately, it means he can’t detect us either, if he’s got a tricorder.”

“So we just wait?”

“We wait. He has to come this way, if he plans to escape through here. Phasers on stun, take him as soon as we see him. We want him alive for questioning.”

Kira nodded. Following Rig’s lead, she found an especially large fissure along the wall, and settled herself into it, giving herself cover as well as a good view of the passage.

It didn’t take long.

They heard carefully hurried footsteps long before they could see the man approaching. Almost afraid to breathe for fear of alerting him, they waited. Then he appeared.

His eyesight or hearing were better than they’d expected; as the women slid out of their hiding places to fire, he paused, then dove for cover in a fissure of his own, shooting as he did so — and not at stun mode.

Both ducked back out of the line of fire.

“Iscalla!” Rig shouted in challenge. “You won’t get past us! Surrender!”

The response was another phaser blast.

Kira caught the other woman’s eye, and nodded at her gesture. Then she took up the challenge.

“Why?” she shouted. “Why did you do it? What were you trying to accomplish?”

“Our world is becoming corrupted by aliens!” he shouted back, apparently welcoming a chance to air his anger and motives. “How could we let them continue to destroy the purity of the Prophets, and the glory of our people? We are being tainted! We fought to drive out the Cardassians, now we must fight to rid ourselves of the Federation!”

Rig dropped to the floor and stealthily belly-crawled forward.

“I felt that way once,” Kira said loudly, trying very hard not to watch the other woman’s progress for fear of the assassin realizing what was going on. “But I realized the Federation isn’t our enemy — and if the Prophets could send one of them, a human, as their Emissary, then they must mean that we should open our hearts and world to them. If the Prophets decided a human’s destiny lay here with them, than who are we to say the Federation isn’t welcome, here or in the Celestial Temple?”

“Traitor!”

She wasn’t sure if that was meant for her or for Rig, but suddenly the man fired again, narrowly missing the other woman, who got off a round of her own and rolled tight against the wall. Rig’s shot hit the edge of the fissure above him; a small shower of rock broke loose and fell.

They heard a hiss of pain. He’d been hit.

“Throw your weapon this way and put your hands over your head!”

He answered with another burst of phaser-fire.

Kira and Rig exchanged glances across the stone passage.

“We’ll catch him in a crossfire,” Rig said, making no effort to keep her voice down. “Get ready to move on my mark—”

He heard, as planned.

“Save your breath and your weapons! I will answer only to the Prophets!” he shouted defiantly. “And I will go to them before I submit to captivity or betray the ones who heed their call!”

He fired again.

This time, the target was too close to miss.

“No—!”

But they couldn’t stop him from killing himself.

After a moment of stunned silence, the two colonels approached the body, crumpled at the bottom of the gap in the stone. The fallen rock from Rig’s shot lay scattered around him. There were several gashes on his forehead and his left arm where he’d thrown it up to protect his face; he must’ve barely missed being blinded. More dangerously, there was a long thin shard deeply imbedded in his leg, just above the knee; the blood flow was slowing, now that he was dead, but the rock had obviously slashed an artery.

Rig nudged him with her toe, as if to confirm that he was dead. “His name is Iscalla Dakken,” she said quietly.

“How do you know him?” Kira asked, staring down at the corpse.

She hesitated a second. “For a time, he was a member of Den’derat. He left us to join Kohn-Ma.”

Kira blew a deep breath. “I see.”

The other woman half-knelt beside the body. “Later, he left them, about the time the Occupation ended. I haven’t been able to track where he went from there. I don’t know who he might be working with, at this point.” She studied the dead man for a few seconds more, absently tucking a loosened strand of hair behind her ear. “I think that’s something I need to learn.”

Then she stood up. “Let’s get back. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you not to discuss these tunnels?”

Kira solemnly acknowledged it.

They beamed directly back to the main security station with the would-be assassin’s body.

They’d moved from the gallery to a side room, but Kasidy was still waiting to hear the story of Vedek Hatha’s brother. After the initial shock, he’d been torn between seeing to her comfort and safety, and looking at and hugging the man as if to make sure he was really there. Under the circumstances, she wasn’t surprised the Vulcan ambassador and his aide continued to hover about. She also wasn’t surprised that little Nerys was clinging to her and refusing to let go.

“All right,” she finally said, determined to get an answer and take the attention off herself. “Trund, you never mentioned having a brother before — and you still haven’t said his name.” She turned a smile on the stranger. “I think I owe him my life, and my baby’s life. The least I can do is know his name when I thank him.”

Hatha put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It has been over a year since I last saw Nerjin,” the vedek said. “That’s his name, Hatha Nerjin. I didn’t know if you were alive or not, Nerjin. But you couldn’t have arrived at a better moment....” He hugged the man again.

The silent Nerjin hugged back, then turned to Kasidy. His gaze fixing on her abdomen, he reached out a hand to touch her. Kasidy felt the baby squirm a little as his huge palm flattened against her belly. But how could she object, when he had saved her life?

“He always loved babies and children,” Hatha said softly, “until he went away to fight. Fighting the Cardassians ... changed him. Eventually, it took his voice.”

Starting to feel a little awkward, Kasidy took his hand. “Hello, Nerjin. Thank you.” She realized, looking up at him, that his eyes were expressive and intelligent — but pained, somehow lost. She felt a rush of sympathy, and smiled. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”

After a few seconds, he smiled back.

He turned his attention to Nerys, something wistful touching his eyes. She looked up at him for a second, then solemnly took his hand too.

They could hear an increasing murmur from the crowd — an argument of some kind, heated words. Then, it seemed some decision had been made. The ministers began to cluster at the near end of the hall, whispering together as they progressed into their own chamber. The vedeks returned to the assembly room, with the exception of Vedek Foldan, who continued to object for a moment longer, but finally went in too, sending an angry, bitter glare in Kasidy’s direction.

Vedek Carn detached himself from the crowd, approaching Hatha.

“We’re calling an immediate convocation. Will you come for the vote, Vedek Hatha?” Carn asked courteously, almost deferentially.

“Kasidy—“

“I won’t be alone!” she interrupted, touching his hand. “I’ll stay with the ambassador — and your brother. I think I’ll be in safe hands. Go, do what you need to do, for Bajor,” she finished intently.

He studied her face for a second, then nodded and turned toward the Assembly. He and Carn strode in side by side. Monks closed the doors behind them, and sealed it as tradition demanded, for the vote.

Kira and Rig left Iscalla’s body in a security station stasis container for later examination. They also learned that the three personnel manning one of the security stations had been discovered dead as well.

Rig insisted on checking out the scene before the bodies were removed. Kira studied the room as well, while Rig prowled through, visually measuring the locations of each of the officers, then examining Taymon’s report on the sabotage that had been done to bring down the force shields and change the codes.

“Three dead officers,” Kira said softly. “More innocent blood. He wasn’t going to leave anyone alive who might interfere with what he was doing or give a warning. But I can’t see him getting the jump on all three of them!”

“He didn’t,” Rig said, shaking her head. She’d coiled her hair back up after the confrontation with the assassin, but the dust of the cave still stained her uniform. “One of them wasn’t so innocent. Somebody reconfigured the codes.”

“You think one of them was working with him?”

“That’s what I believe.”

“But ... then why did he kill his associate?”

“As you said,” Rig replied evenly, “he wasn’t going to leave anyone alive who might interfere, or identify him, or betray the plan and their associates. I know everyone who has those security codes — and they knew the price for betraying us. I would have found the person who helped him, no matter where they hid, and learned who they were working for. This way, I have to figure out which of my people it was, before I can start backtracking to the others.”

There was a long, pregnant pause.

“Any idea who that might be?” Kira finally asked.

Rig’s face was expressionless. “I think Foldan is involved. I can’t prove it. Yet. But I’ll find out. I always do.” The quick ghost of a smile was deadly.

Vedek Foldan’s name again. Kira suspected this was a hunt that Rig would not give up on, and found herself shuddering a little at the thought of being its target.

“Let’s get back to the Assembly,” she said. “We should let Shakaar and the others know what’s happened.”

The two officers reached the Assembly chambers just as the doors opened again. It has been less than half an hour, the ambassador’s aide whispered — one of the shortest final deliberations Kira could every recall. His mouth as sealed as the vote, one of the vedeks came out and ceremoniously carried the results to the Chamber of Ministers, where those results would be announced to the ministers before being released to anyone else. Then that door closed.

The vedeks began streaming out of their assembly, all of them closed-mouthed, as was expected. From their expressions, it had been a quick but not easy decision. While some of the religious leaders appeared tranquil, others looked quite upset; some were introspective; a few seemed angry, but whether it was over the decision or because of what had happened in their chambers, was unstated.

Kira watched particularly for the reactions of the leading vedeks and kai candidates. Ungtae hurried past the small waiting group, sending a calculating glance Kasidy’s way, but not saying anything — he had previously been heard to say that the Emissary had made a mistake in marrying against the Prophets’ wishes; his opinion appeared not to have changed. Carn paused long enough to bow dispassionately at “the Emissary’s wife”; he generally showed respect for her, but was known to feel that her role in Bajoran society and belief should be minimal, if at all. Foldan’s anger and disgust were obvious in the rigid way she held herself as she stalked out; there was venom in the gaze she darted at Kasidy, and the twist of her mouth before she pulled the dark veil forward. Hatha quickly rejoined the group, and then led Kasidy away to rest when he saw her rubbing absently at the back of her head where she’d bumped it. His brother Nerjin and little Nerys went with them, still holding hands.

That left Kira, Rig, and the ambassador and his aide, along with a few Bajoran staffers who maintained a respectful distance.

Rig leaned into Kira’s shoulder. “You saw Foldan’s expression?” she whispered.

“Yes.” The look had made Kira shiver as if something evil had passed near.

“I’m going to watch her. She’ll slip up. Sooner or later.”

“What if it’s not her? What if the person responsible has been keeping his opinions and hatred to himself?”

“Oh,” Rig breathed, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be looking under other rocks....”

Before they expected it, the door to the Chamber of Ministers slid open.

The first person to exit was the first minister, who promptly joined the small cluster, his attention focused on the ambassador.

“Ambassador S’ren, I’m sure you’re waiting to hear our decision.”

“Considering its impact on so many things, yes, it seemed appropriate to wait,” the Vulcan replied calmly, as if the entire future of the Federation wouldn’t be affected by that decision.

Shakaar smiled tightly and continued. “I expect your government will be pleased to learn that we have chosen to keep the Wormhole open to any who wish to traverse between the Alpha and the Gamma Quadrants, without any restrictions but those the Prophets may choose to require of their own accord.”

Ambassador S’ren’s expression remained unchanged. “On behalf of the Federation, let me express my appreciation and gratitude for this decision of the Bajoran people, whom we one day hope to number among our member worlds. And in return, may I assure you that the Federation will assist you in every way possible in your own worthwhile endeavor of building a station in the Gamma Quadrant.”

“That will be greatly appreciated,” Shakaar murmured. His expression made it obvious that he expected little more than words as that assistance.

“As a first step, I have already been authorized by my government to offer the assistance of a team of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, along with certain materiel and such technical expertise as you may require.”

The first minister’s eyes opened fractionally. “That ... will be most appreciated. On behalf of Bajor, I accept that offer — and extend our thanks and reassurances of continuing friendship between our peoples.”

The ambassador bowed slightly. “I will convey your response to my government, and we can begin the necessary arrangements.”

S’ren left without further ado, his aide following.

Kira joined Shakaar. She couldn’t keep the astonishment out of her voice. “They couldn’t have known how the vote would go! Could they?”

“No,” Shakaar agreed, his voice low. “I expect, if the vote had gone the other way, that this offer would have been the first step in negotiations to convince us to change our mind.” He nodded a farewell to the others and turned toward the door.

Kira kept pace with him. He didn’t object.

“How did the vote go so quickly? The ministers and the vedeks both? That has to be the quickest political and religious decision I’ve ever seen — I thought it might be days before the matter was done!” she said, keeping her tones as quiet as he had.

“Shock, I think,” he admitted with a wry look. “It was one thing for the opponents of keeping the Wormhole open to other races to bluster about preserving the sanctity of the Prophets, and quite another to see weapons used against off-worlders in our own halls of government and faith — especially since it was the Emissary’s wife and child!”

“And you made sure to point out that a mentality allowing the assassination of innocent aliens was a logical outcome of denying access to the Wormhole for religious reasons?”

Shakaar shook his head ruefully. “I didn’t have to — the vedek who delivered the vote said it for me, when he passed along the results in a manner more impassioned, I suspect, than was expected of him.”

“Really....” She felt relieved. Her people weren’t prepared to isolate themselves from the rest of the galaxy, or to declare war on any outsider who set foot on their world. Most of the population would be unaffected by the decision, and probably unconcerned with the matter now that the vedeks and ministers had spoken. There would be only a few fanatics and malcontents who, she acknowledged to herself, could create plenty of trouble without broad public support. Would they continue to agitate and act against other beings, or would they subside and wait for future opportunities?

“Will you have time for supper this evening?” Shakaar asked, breaking into her train of thought.

Supper. It hit her that, with the vote now behind them, his stated reason for recalling her had been accomplished.

“Supper sounds good.”

One of the security officers entered the assembly chamber and approached Colonel Rig.

A moment later, the colonel called, “Minister! We may have another problem....”

Shakaar and Kira stopped in their tracks as Rig and her officer rapidly approached.

“What is it?” the minister asked tensely.

“Taymon.” The colonel gestured at her officer to explain.

“It’s Admiral Nechayev.”

“What happened?” Shakaar demanded.

“We don’t know. But she’s missing,” Taymon replied flatly. “She left the complex earlier this afternoon, just before ... the trouble began. I didn’t realize she’d left her combadge behind until we tried to contact her. Shall we put out an alert, send up flyers to scan for her and hope there aren’t too many humans in the city? Or alert the Sutherland to search for her?”

Inspiration hit. “No,” Kira interrupted, remembering the night before. She suspected the admiral wouldn’t want any hubbub about her absence. “I think I have an idea where she might have gone — let me check it first.”

“Are you sure? We can’t risk an interstellar incident, not after today,” Shakaar asked, worry tugging at his eyes.

“I think I know where she may have gone,” Kira repeated.

“Is it safe?” Rig asked.

“Yes, I believe it is.... But I’ll keep my combadge — if I don’t check in every ten minutes, send someone after me.”