6

“What if you learned that the Prophets were not gods?” Odo asked Kira. “That they were simply alien beings with an interest in the Bajoran people?”

She did not respond right away. For a few moments, she didn’t even move, instead simply staring back at him. Finally, Odo added, “Or what if the Prophets abandoned Bajor?”

Kira furrowed her brow, then leaned back on the small stool, lifting an elbow and forearm up onto Dax’s vanity. “Odo,” she said, “I can’t learn any of those things about the Prophets because none of them are true, or ever will be true.”

“You believe that the Prophets care for the Bajorans, and guide them, and always will,” he said. “Your people experienced such hardship and suffering under the Cardassian Occupation…you lost your mother and father, friends…and yet you still retained your faith through all of that.”

“Yes,” Kira said, her mouth widening to a smile that bespoke of the peace and joy delivered to her by her convictions.

Odo studied her expression, and struggled to decide how best to make his point to her. She’d reconfirmed her unwavering faith in the Prophets, and he needed to figure out how to effectively compare her faith in her gods to his faith in his own people. He knew that she would resist the analogy.

Leaning forward on the storage bin, Odo put his hands on his knees, his elbows akimbo. He glanced to his left as he tried to choose his next words, and noticed several articles of clothing and footwear heaped about the deck, as though they had been carelessly tossed aside. He noted a single Starfleet uniform lying beneath two dresses—one black, one with a floral print—and his investigative skills told him that, after her shift had ended today, Dax had tried on various items before settling on the purple outfit she now wore at the party.

Trying to focus his mind, Odo turned back toward Kira. “To me,” he said, “your faith seems so…pure.”

Kira laughed, and Odo felt himself buoyed by the spontaneous sounds of her delight. “I don’t think I’d ever describe myself as ‘pure,’” she said. Then, more seriously, she continued, “But my faith is real, and it will always be a significant part of who I am.”

“I know,” Odo said, then sat up straight, bracing himself for the point he wanted to make. “I’ve recently discovered that I also have faith.” He paused as Kira’s eyebrows rose on her forehead in obvious surprise at his claim. “Despite the torment they’ve endured throughout their history,” he explained, “and despite the torment they’ve inflicted on others, I have faith in my people.”

Kira’s eyebrows crashed back down. She pulled her arm from atop the vanity and into her lap, as though unconsciously preparing to defend herself. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t agree with comparing my beliefs in the Prophets to yours in the Founders.” Her voice had turned cold.

“Nerys, please,” Odo said. “I’m not trying to equate the Prophets and the Founders. But I am trying to relate what I’ve been thinking and feeling to what you think and feel. I want to explain why I made the decision to link with the female Founder when I did.”

Kira looked down, then carefully folded her hands together. He could see the tension in her jaw. “I’m listening,” she said.

Odo peered ahead at the path he thought he could take to get where he wanted to go, but he also knew that he might face pitfalls along the way. Still, if he didn’t continue the conversation he’d already begun, he would never get there. As gently as he could, he asked, “Are the Prophets responsible for your actions?”

“No, of course not,” Kira replied, still peering down at her hands. “The Prophets love me and guide me through life…offer a source of solace…provide a touchstone for prayer. But we all have freedom of will.”

“The responsibilities for your actions are your own?” Odo asked.

“Always,” Kira said.

“And have you been proud of every action you’ve ever taken?” Odo asked.

“What?” Kira said, her head snapping up, her hands parting and moving to her hips. “I don’t see what that has to do with this. If you’re going to compare what I did during the Occupation, what I had to do—”

“I know that you fought hard to free your people from the tyranny of the Cardassians,” Odo interrupted her. “And I understand that. But I also know that you killed Vaatrick—”

“He was a collaborator,” Kira roared, leaping to her feet.

Odo stayed calm, and looked up at Kira from his seat on the storage bin. “He was also a Bajoran,” Odo said, “and I know that even though you felt you had to kill him, you didn’t want to.”

“No,” Kira agreed. “I didn’t.”

“No more than you wanted to kill innocent Cardassians during the raids and other attacks you participated in during the Occupation.”

“No,” Kira said again, and she dropped back down onto the stool. “I’m not…I never wanted innocent people to die. But my people were at war. The Cardassians—”

“Nerys,” Odo stopped her. “I’m not judging you. I was here during the Occupation. I understand what the Bajorans went through…what you went through.” She looked down again, and Odo waited until her head tilted upward and they made eye contact again. Only then did he continue. “More importantly,” he said, “I understand who you are, and what your values are. I could not be friends with you otherwise.”

Kira seemed to think about this for a few seconds, and then slowly shook her head. “Yes,” she said. “I know that.”

“But that’s why you’re no longer sure about our friendship,” Odo said. “You thought you understood who I was, and what my values were, but then I did something that contradicted that.”

“That’s right,” Kira said.

“But in a way, that’s our common ground,” Odo said. “We’ve both made choices in our lives, and we’ve both made mistakes for the good of our people.”

“This situation seems different,” Kira said. “You didn’t join with the Founder and abandon Rom in order to try and free your people from oppression.”

“No,” Odo admitted, “but we were each doing what we needed to do to make ourselves whole. For you, it involved doing whatever you had to do to help your people. And it was the same for me.” Kira opened her mouth, apparently to protest the characterization of his impetus, but Odo held up his hand, and she allowed him to go on. “I know I wasn’t attempting to save my people from the same horrible threat that yours faced, but I was trying to help them. And I still want to help them.”

Kira’s features seemed to soften. “To save them from themselves?” she asked.

“From themselves, from their history, yes,” Odo said. “They’re my people, and I want them to live in peace, not just for the sake of those they would oppose, but for their own sake. And in order to help them, I need to understand them.”

Kira said nothing for a moment, but did not look away from him. “I can believe that,” she finally said. “But I still have a hard time accepting that you allowed Rom to be arrested and sentenced to die.”

“I didn’t set out to do that,” Odo said, “any more than you ever set out to kill Cardassian children. But yes, it happened because of me, because I desperately wanted to understand my people, so that I could become a fuller part of them, and help them from within. I don’t want my people to wage war against anybody, but particularly not against my friends.”

“Would that cause have been worth the sacrifice of Rom’s life?” Kira asked. Although clearly a pointed question, she spoke the words quietly, apparently looking for an actual answer and not an argument.

“I don’t know,” Odo said honestly. “If I could have stopped the war…” He let his words trail off, realizing that he had gotten caught up in his own argument.

“You had no expectation that you could put an end to the war by joining with the Founder then,” Kira accused him.

“No, you’re right,” Odo said. “That was a longer-term goal. But I also did not expect that my actions would result in Rom’s death. And in the end, they didn’t.”

“No,” Kira said, and she actually smiled again, a slight, anxious expression. “I was so happy to see you walk into the cargo hold.”

“I think I was even more happy to see you,” Odo said. He remembered that day vividly, first learning from the Founder that Kira had been arrested and would be executed, later hearing that she and Rom and the others had escaped from their holding cells. He’d quickly assembled a team of his deputies and tracked the group’s movements. Jake and Leeta had gone to hide, but Kira and Rom had already been discovered and pursued by Dominion forces. Outside cargo bay thirteen, Odo and his cadre had engaged the Jem’Hadar, ultimately dispatching them.

“You never did tell me why, though,” Kira said to him. Just after Odo and his deputies had rescued Kira and Rom, she’d posed that very question. He’d told her there wasn’t time, but also that she probably already knew.

“When I’d heard that you’d been arrested,” he explained, “and that you would be put to death…” Again, he let his voice fade to silence. He knew that his decision to retreat from the Founder and his desire to assist Kira had begun to form even before he’d learned of Kira’s incarceration. Although revealing that now would be difficult, he felt that he needed to be as open and honest as he could be. “Actually, when I—” He searched for delicate language, and again settled on employing Kira’s equivoque. “—slept with the Founder, trying to teach her about solids, trying to demonstrate to her an important way in which they shared their love for one another…she didn’t understand.”

“I’m not sure of the point you’re trying to make,” Kira said slowly, not sounding comfortable with the subject.

“We…performed…the act,” Odo said haltingly, “but I could not make the Founder feel or understand the sharing involved. I felt no warmth myself, and I realized that I never would be able to share with the Founder what I’d shared with Arissa.” And though he did not say it, it seemed to Odo that his next thought—that he could never share with the Founder what he one day hoped to share with Nerys—hung in the air between them. If he had truly been a Bajoran, he knew that his face would have flushed red. Hurrying past the awkward moment, he said, “As much as I wanted to learn about my people, to help them, and become a part of them, I came to understand that those things would not make my life whole.” He did not think it necessary to spell out for Kira what he believed would complete his life: her love.

“I don’t know what to say,” Kira told him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Odo said. “I just hope that you understand better why I took the actions I did. I never wanted to turn my back on you, and I don’t want to turn my back on my own people now. I still hope that the war will end peacefully, and that maybe someday I can return to them. But I want you to know that you can trust me, Nerys.”

Kira looked away, turning her head toward the storage area of Dax’s closet. “That might take some time,” she said.

“I understand,” Odo said. He peered down at his hands resting on his knees, and tried to hide his disappointment.

But then Kira’s hands moved over his, her touch both intimate and electric. “It will take time,” she said, “but it will happen. You’ve been a part of my life for a long time now, Odo, and I don’t want that to change.”

He looked up at her. “I don’t want it to change either.”

Stillness settled around them, comfortable and sweet. They sat that way for a few minutes, not moving or talking, but simply being together. It might still take some time, as Kira had said, but Odo believed at that moment that they had saved their friendship.

Finally, Kira withdrew her hands, and at the same time said, “Of course, just being a part of my life isn’t enough. I mean, Quark’s been in my life for a long time too, and I wouldn’t mind if that changed.”

Odo returned her smile with one of his own, even though he knew she was only joking about Quark. Difficult as it was to believe, the scoundrel had actually been largely responsible for breaking Kira and the others from their holding cells. But the jest signaled a change in the direction of their conversation, in the tone of this time with each other.

They talked through the night and through much of the next morning like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long time. They reminisced, laughed, and cemented in reality the reconciliation they’d just fashioned.

And at ten hundred hours, after Dax had found them still chatting away in her closet, and after they’d hastily left, parted, and rushed to their duty stations, Odo discovered that he’d fallen even deeper in love with Kira Nerys.