Chapter Text
Stardate: 51256.5
“What about…Captain Boday?” Dax asked.
“Captain Boday?” Kira repeated. “You want me to bring Captain Boday to your quarters for dinner?”
The notion was laughably bad.
“It’s just a suggestion,” Dax said.
Kira tapped the call button for the turbolift. “Well, it’s a bad suggestion! Number one, you used to go out with Captain Boday. Number two, Worf hates him. And number three—and we have discussed this many times—Captain Boday has a transparent skull.”
“And you don’t like to see a man’s brains,” Dax rolled her eyes as they entered the turbolift.
“Ops,” Kira ordered, one hand on her hip.
“What about Dr. Trag’tok?” Dax suggested. “He’s intelligent, he has a good physique…and he has a very opaque cranium.”
“True,” Kira said. “But his eye bothers me.”
“Which one?”
Kira shot Dax a look. “The middle one?”
Dax sighed. “Oh, really. You are so obsessed with appearances.”
“And sometimes your taste in men frightens me,” Kira shot back as she exited the turbolift.
Dax followed her. “I’ll make sure to tell Worf you said so!”
“Tell me what?” Worf asked, at tactical.
“Don’t be so nosy,” Dax said.
Kira ignored them both, making for the replicator across Ops.
And then Dax uttered the last words she wanted to hear. “What about Odo? Isn’t he back from Bajor?”
“Not happening,” Kira said.
They stopped at the replicator.
“Kira,” Dax asked before she could order, “did something happen between you two?”
Kira winced.
What hadn’t happened?
“…it has nothing to do with me…”
And to think, before the Dominion occupation had reduced their entire friendship to ashes, he had confessed his love.
Well, he hadn’t.
His counterpart on Gaia had.
Kira had never actually heard those words from her Odo’s mouth. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
How could they be true?
If he loved her, how could he have betrayed her? How could he have broken his word about Linking with the Founder—and, as a result, practically handed the Alpha Quadrant to the Dominion?
She couldn’t wrap her mind around any of his actions, could barely understand why he was still here, behind Federation lines.
The last thing she needed to hear from him was a lie. Or a truth so twisted it was just as terrible.
“Nerys?” Dax pressed, drawing her from her thoughts.
“Sorry.” Kira shook herself. To the replicator, “Two raktajinos, extra-strong, and a kavaroll.” Back to Dax, “I’m coming to dinner alone—got it?”
Dax sighed. “I got it. Three place settings.” She paused, her gaze searching. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
Kira pressed her lips together. “Nope.”
Maybe she never would.
She reported to her station, the better to focus on duty rather than the thoughts spiraling in her mind. The hopes and fears she couldn’t tease apart.
“Captain,” O’Brien suddenly said from his console, “you’d better get out here.”
Kira set down her raktajino and looked up, just as Sisko exited his office.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m showing a power buildup in the transporter buffer,” O’Brien reported.
“Someone’s attempting to beam into Ops,” Dax said.
“From where?” Sisko asked.
“I don’t know,” Dax said. “There are no ships within transporter range.”
Tentatively, Kira approached the transporter pad, just as there was an electronic hum of active transport. A man materialized, dressed in a battered coat and boots, hunched with his back to her.
Kira walked around to his other side, leaned in. “Are you hurt?”
He whipped around, aiming a Bajoran phaser. “No. But you’ll be, unless you do exactly what I say.”
But all Kira could focus on was the utter familiarity of his features. Those warm brown eyes, the lines around his mouth. Features she had known so well—and lost—almost three years ago.
Bareil.
“It can’t be,” she whispered.
*
His arm was tight around her middle…and a phaser was wedged into her spine.
This was not her Bareil.
Which meant he was either a very close lookalike—maybe a clone, or even a Changeling—or from the mirror universe.
“What do you want?” Sisko asked.
Bareil shuffled her a step forward. “A fast ship would be nice.”
Sisko and Worf exchanged a glance.
“Security,” Sisko said, “we have a hostage situation. Clear a path to Landing Pad A. Authorization: Sisko-7-1-green.”
T’Sorra’s voice came over the comm. “Affirmative, sir. 7-1-green.”
“Your runabout’s waiting,” Sisko told Bareil.
“Let’s go,” Bareil said.
“If you hurt her,” Sisko warned, “you will never leave this station! I promise you that!”
“Follow me, and she dies,” Bareil retorted. “I promise you that.”
And then he did the strangest thing—with a muttered, “Hold it,” he reached for her abandoned kavaroll and stuffed it in his mouth.
Definitely not Bareil.
As he walked her past the turbolift, Kira started for it, only for his arm to tighten around her middle.
“Ah-ah,” he said. “Not the turbolift. Someone might cut the power, and we’d be trapped inside.”
“Then we walk,” Kira said quietly, her eyes never leaving Sisko’s.
*
“Here we are,” Kira said, stopping before the airlock. “Landing Pad A.”
Bareil—mirror Bareil, she knew, from his reference to the Alliance—was downright out of breath. And threatening her with a useless phaser.
“Open it,” he panted, gesturing to the airlock.
“I’ve got a better idea,” Kira said. “Why don’t you hand over that phaser?”
“Oh,” Bareil lamented, “you’ve been so cooperative up to now. I’d hate to have to kill you.”
Kira shook her head, smiling a little. “You’re not going to kill me.”
“Oh, you sure of that?”
“You’re not gonna kill anyone,” Kira said. “Not with that phaser. Power cell’s cracked.”
Bareil sighed, shutting his eyes. Then he squinted at her. “How long have you known?”
“Since we left Ops,” Kira admitted.
She was a soldier and an ex-resistance fighter. She knew a broken phaser when she saw one.
“Then…why did you come with me?”
“I needed the exercise,” she said, blandly.
Truthfully, she couldn’t quite explain why she had humored him. Maybe because she knew his plan would fail—Sisko’s 7-1-green authorization meant that security would be waiting on the runabout.
“And I have to get away,” Bareil said.
He moved to strike her, and that was it. She blocked his blow; an elbow to his side and a throw to the floor, and he was dispatched. Reflex.
She stood over him, staring down at that oh-so-familiar face.
Maybe that was why she hadn’t stopped him.
The airlock rolled open, and a pair of black Starfleet-issue boots stepped into view.
“Major?” T’Sorra asked.
“Yes?”
She still couldn’t tear her eyes away from that face.
“Do you know him?”
Kira shook herself. Looked up to meet T’Sorra’s eyes.
“No,” she said, more or less truthfully. It wasn’t her Bareil, after all. “Definitely not.”
“Then, with your permission, I’ll bring him to Security,” T’Sorra said.
Kira nodded.
T’Sorra motioned for the deputies behind her to haul Bareil to his feet. Kira, meanwhile, tapped her combadge.
“Kira to Bashir.”
“Bashir here.”
“Doctor, meet me in Security,” Kira said. “Bring a blood testing kit.”
“On my way.”
She was reasonably sure this Bareil was from the mirror universe, and she honestly doubted a Founder would be so sloppy as to replace someone who’d died years ago. But in these times of war, it was better to be safe than sorry.
*
The shrine’s soft music and lighting was balm on Kira’s pagh.
Everything was so twisted.
Odo was back from Bajor—something she barely wanted to think about, lest she look too closely at the hopes and fears that warred within her. The urge to lock him out of her life, to barricade herself against all the hurt that came with thinking of him—just barely restrained by a fear that was somehow even stronger.
That if she didn’t act soon, if she kept stalling, she would lose him.
How her pagh wasn’t already convinced that she’d lost him, that he’d turned his back on her, that he’d shown her way back during the events of Gaia just how little he respected her faith, she didn’t know.
And now Bareil was back.
Except he wasn’t.
He looked like Bareil—the man whose faith had been even stronger than hers, who had devoted his life to the Prophets, who had become a vedek. Who, despite their disagreements over his interpretation of prophecy, she had no doubts about sharing her faith with.
But this man, this counterpart from the mirror universe, wasn’t a vedek. He laughed at the notion. Refused to join her at the service.
She didn’t mind. Really, she didn’t. He wasn’t her Bareil. It wasn’t fair of her to look into his face and see someone else. It wasn’t his fault that his counterpart in another universe had chosen a very different life—and loved her.
Kira kept her eyes on the altar at the front of the shrine, let the music wash over her pagh.
Then the woman kneeling next to her shuffled forward into the empty spot in front of her, and none other than Bareil—mirror Bareil—slipped in next to Kira.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
“I figured I could use a little spiritual guidance.”
Was he being sarcastic? “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
She looked at him in surprise.
“I plan on making a new life for myself here,” Bareil whispered. “I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”
The music changed tone, and Ranjen Esho began speaking in Bajoran. Kira let the familiar syllables wash over her as she focused on opening her pagh to the Prophets.
If she put herself in their hands, they would guide her. Here in the shrine, she needn’t worry about the messiness of her life.
A small procession walked in, carrying the orb currently on the station, the ranjen in the lead playing a solemn tune on a Bajoran flute.
“With humility and gratitude,” Esho intoned, “we accept this gift.”
“What’s in the box?” Bareil hissed as the procession passed.
“The Orb of Prophecy and Change,” Kira whispered back.
“Orb?”
“A gift from the Prophets,” she said. “It can foresee the future or…a possible future, anyway.”
“Who are the Prophets?”
She smiled softly. “Our gods.” Then she shot him a look out the corner of her eye. “You do have gods, don’t you?”
“Of course we do,” Bareil whispered.
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“That’s because I leave them alone, they leave me alone.”
“Shh!” someone hissed.
Kira startled into silence, surprised at herself.
She wasn’t normally one to whisper through services. She preferred to immerse herself in the sermons and teachings of the Prophets. But she’d never had a chance to teach someone else about her faith before—even with her Bareil. After all, he was a vedek.
And certainly not with Odo.
He’d always been a skeptic. Even before Gaia, he would never have been the first person it occurred to her to talk about faith with. But now, she knew that was something she could never share with him.
Prophets—why did she even want to? Why was she still thinking about it? Wasn’t it clear what he was to her—that caring for him could only bring pain?
But that was just it, wasn’t it?
It wasn’t clear.
He’d betrayed her. But he’d also saved her. And they hadn’t talked since.
Those thoughts didn’t belong in the shrine.
Letting the music wash over her, Kira lost herself to the ceremony. To the peace the Prophets offered.
*
“So?” Kira asked as they stepped back out onto the promenade. “What’d you think?”
“I’m not sure,” Bareil said. “It…was an interesting ceremony, but…”
“But what?”
“Everybody seemed to take it so seriously.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Kira asked.
Bareil glanced at her, an equivocal smile teasing his face. “I suppose it must be nice to have that kind of faith.”
It was. To Kira, there was no doubt of that.
“I’ve always preferred to believe in nothing,” he added. “That way, I’m never disappointed.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound like much of a life,” she said.
Bareil chuckled. “Maybe not…but it’s all mine.”
Kira laughed a little.
He had some charm; she could admit that. Not the same as her Bareil, thank goodness. It was getting harder to transpose them, the longer this Bareil favored her with that roguish sense of humor. Her Bareil had been much more serene.
“Anyway,” he said, “I’m glad I had this chance to see you again. It was…very enlightening.”
He held her gaze, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to the rare—for him—down-to-earth look in his eyes.
After a moment, he added, “Thank you, Major.”
He walked away down the promenade. And for a whole second, Kira almost let him go.
Getting close to him might be a monumentally bad idea. But she always had led with her heart. And she’d much rather think about him than Odo.
“Bareil!” she called.
He turned.
“Do you like Klingon food?”
He smiled, and Kira’s grin spread across her face.
It looked like Dax would be setting four place settings after all.
*
In Ops the next morning, Dax followed Kira to the situation table, an incorrigible smile on her face.
“Are you seeing him tonight?”
Kira smiled. “At the Bajoran shrine.”
Dax made a face. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”
“He’s going to have his first Orb experience,” Kira said.
“Your idea, I suppose?”
“No, actually, it was his,” Kira said. “He’s curious about Bajoran spirituality. It’s a new concept for him.”
“Well,” Dax said, “it’s not a midnight swim in the holosuites, but…” She smiled. “If it makes you happy.”
She clasped Kira’s shoulder affectionately on her way back to her station, and Kira couldn’t help her broad smile.
Oh, it did. It did make her happy.
It was wonderful to be able to share her faith with someone.
*
Kira was in a cargo bay, inventorying the latest supply shipment, when Quark turned up.
“Major,” he said, “any idea where they put my shipment of Saurian brandy?”
As he spoke, two of his Ferengi waiters walked up with an anti-grav unit.
“Over there,” Kira said, thumbing over her shoulder without looking up from her PADD.
“You heard her,” Quark told his waiters.
Kira offered her PADD for his thumb print.
“Your new boyfriend came into my bar today,” Quark said as he completed the transaction.
“Oh, did he?”
“He’s…a little different, isn’t he?”
“From what?”
“From some of your previous choices,” Quark said.
Momentarily, Kira glanced up from her inventory to favor him with a look.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Quark continued as she moved along down a row of containers, “I had nothing against Vedek Bareil or Shakaar, but they were a little too controlled—a little too controlling. They lacked fire, excitement.”
Kira sighed, paying him the bare minimum of attention as she noted items down on her PADD.
“But this Bareil—he’s different,” Quark said. “He’s full of surprises.”
“Oh, so I take it you like him,” Kira said.
She moved to the next stack of containers.
“Let’s just say,” Quark said, “I like the idea of you with him.”
Why she was bothering to listen to this—to humor Quark’s opinions of her love life—Kira had no idea.
“But let me tell you something, Major,” Quark added. “You’d better brace yourself. You’re in for a rough ride.”
“Oh, what are you talking about?” she scoffed.
“I’ve been a bartender for a long time,” Quark said. “I’ve seen all sorts of customers—sad ones, happy ones, complicated ones.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, tapping again at her PADD. “And Bareil—where does he fit in?”
Quark walked up behind her. “He’s one of the tormented ones.”
“Tormented?” Kira turned. “No, I don’t think so. Quark—you’ve had an Orb experience. You know what it’s like.”
Quark hummed. “He had an orb experience. Interesting.”
Kira spun to face him. “Meaning what?”
“After he left the bar,” Quark said, “I saw him hanging around the Bajoran shrine. He must have been there a couple of hours.”
“Well, he has a lot on his mind,” Kira said. “He probably went there to think things over.”
“Either that,” Quark said, “or he was figuring out a way to rob the place.”
At that moment, Quark’s waiters stopped nearby, their anti-grav unit full.
“What’s this, a union meeting?” Quark called. He waved them off. “Let’s get going.” To Kira, “Nice chatting with you, Major. I hope you two…are very happy together.”
He retreated from the cargo bay, leaving Kira lost in thought.
The irony of Quark bringing her a cynical observation, warning her as a friend, didn’t escape her. For most of her time on this station, it would’ve been Odo doing that. Always the firm wall at her back. And she would never have tolerated Quark, of all people, butting into her personal life.
But it was Quark, not Odo, who’d had her back during the last days of the Dominion Occupation.
Which left her with the question—had she misread Bareil?
Led with her heart, and forgotten her head?
*
Kira entered the shrine, phaser in hand, to find Bareil standing in the Orb’s archway, forcefield disengaged, hands placed on the corners of the Orb’s ark.
So, Quark was right.
“What’s that old saying?” she asked. “Once a thief…?”
Bareil glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“The question is,” she said, “what are you doing here?”
“Nerys?” he said softly.
Kira’s brows pinched slightly. He said her name as if he hadn’t realized it was her.
He turned. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” Kira said. She walked toward him. “You had me completely fooled. The thief in search of redemption.” She smiled emptily. “Who could resist that? Obviously not me.”
How could she have been so blind?
So eager to share her faith, that she ignored the warning signs? Sisko’s warning, when Bareil had first been put in a cell, that she not get attached to this man? Her own misgivings—she knew what that other universe was like, how had she believed someone she could love could come from that place?
“Luckily,” Kira said, “Quark didn’t fall for your little act. Now step away from the altar.”
She aimed her phaser.
“I wish I could,” Bareil said. “But I can’t. I’ve come too far.”
“Then you came a long way for nothing.”
There was a voice from the shrine entrance. “Nerys!”
Oh, that voice was familiar.
Too familiar—in all the wrong ways.
It was her own.
Well, that explained how Bareil had seemed not to realize it was her at first.
Her own mirror universe counterpart strode over, holding an identical phaser and dressed in an identical Militia uniform. Her circlet and leather ensemble were gone; her earring matched Kira’s. That explained how in the hell she had managed to walk through the station without attracting attention.
Well, sort of. If she’d acted the way she usually did, then Kira might have some explaining to do.
“Oh, you look as beautiful as ever,” the Intendant simpered.
Calmly, Bareil approached and took Kira’s phaser.
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Kira said.
Quark had told her as much.
What he hadn’t known, was that Bareil was working for the Intendant.
*
“I’m a thief,” Bareil said with light shrug of his head. “I belong with her.”
He nodded to the Intendant, slumped on the floor from his phaser blast.
Kira had thought, when he’d phasered the Intendant, that she might have been right about him after all—that she and Quark were both right. He was planning to steal the Orb, and he was tormented—because he was changing.
But, in the end, he chose his own universe. Chose not to change. Chose not to believe.
Maybe he’d been right, moments before. Maybe it was for the best.
He wasn’t her Bareil. He didn’t belong here.
“Then you should go,” Kira said.
He crouched over the Intendant and took the transporter control from her hand. Kira watched as the transporter effect shimmered and they both disappeared before her eyes.