PART TWO: HEAVY WORDS SO LIGHTLY THROWN

All men have secrets and here is mine, so let it be known

For we have been through hell and high tide, which means I can rely on you

And yet you start to recall heavy words were so lightly thrown

But still I live in fondness of a flying bullet for you

The Smiths

Kira stayed up for hours worrying, the same tangle of thoughts whirling around in her brain until she fell asleep on the sofa still in her uniform sometime around 0200. She was rudely awakened at 0630 by the sound of someone overriding her door controls. As she opened her eyes, yawning and groaning, the door swished open to reveal Dukat and Ziyal, both looking unnaturally fresh for this time in the morning. By contrast Kira was unwashed, still in yesterday's clothes, with yesterday's makeup smeared round her eyes. Even waking up under attack would be better than this; at least the Jem'Hadar wouldn't laugh at her for her less-than-professional appearance.

'You know, it's generally considered polite to knock, rather than just barging in,' she grumbled, running a hand through her untidy hair. Dukat grinned and sat down at the table uninvited.

'Overslept, did we? I'm sorry to wake you, but we did have a breakfast arrangement.'

'Oh sure, help yourself to my replicator credits, why don't you? Make yourself comfortable, we're all friends here,' she snapped, before softening her tone a little. 'Sorry, Ziyal, good morning.'

Ziyal smiled shyly at her before muttering something to Dukat, which she didn't quite catch but it made him laugh. Kira directed a fierce glare at him on her way to the bathroom. When she came back, feeling somewhat fresher but no less annoyed, Dukat and Ziyal were sat comfortably at the table eating breakfast and talking about nothing in particular, the picture of domesticity. Kira dropped into a chair beside Ziyal and reached for a moba fruit, scowling at Dukat.

'Well, Major, I believe you have an answer to the proposal I made last night,' he announced as he poured her a glass of rokassa juice. She ignored it; the smell of the stuff made her want to throw up, which he knew all too well, and she didn't miss his sly grin as she pushed it away with a grimace. She'd agonised for hours about what to say to him, but the way he simply waltzed into her quarters and offered her food from her own replicator cemented it in her mind. He had absolutely no right to entangle her in his stupid plans, no matter how wonderful he made them sound. And as for Rom... well, she was a Resistance fighter, wasn't she? Springing people out of Cardassian slams was something she'd had a fair bit of practice at over the years. She'd find a way to free him without having to side with Dukat.

'Damn right I have an answer,' she said coldly. 'I think you're lying. This is some elaborate trap so you can win me over, then betray me and laugh at me for trusting you. You're just trying to get one over on me, and I won't let you. I've had enough of your games.'

He set his plate aside, looking faintly disappointed but not entirely surprised.

'I see. Well, in that case, I'll just have to let Weyoun know there will be a few more attendees at the execution in three days' time. Don't say I didn't warn you.'

Ziyal gasped, staring wide-eyed between them. Kira looked coolly at Dukat. She knew the score.

'Fine. I'd prefer to die fighting for what I believe in than sell out to you. Go ahead, lock me up.'

She stuck her wrists out across the table, as if waiting to be handcuffed. Dukat looked at her intently for a long moment, something like sadness on his face, then went to tap his communicator. Ziyal leapt up and knocked his arm away, sending her plate clattering to the floor.

'Father, no! Don't do it!' she cried. Dukat rounded angrily on her.

'Ziyal, stay out of this! Tell me, Major, what do you believe in? Apparently it's good enough to die for, so I'd be very interested to know what it is.'

Kira laid her hands flat on the table and leaned close to Dukat, close enough to smell the scent of his skin and the oil he used on his hair. She looked into his eyes and spoke very distinctly.

'A free Bajor. Free of the Dominion, free of the Federation, and most of all free of you. That's what I believe in, and I am willing to die for it if I have to.'

Dukat also leaned in. They were nose to nose across the table, staring at each other.

'And I'm telling you how to achieve that without dying, if you'd only listen for five seconds without letting your vengeful streak obliterate all your common sense!' he exclaimed savagely. 'There is far more at stake here than our old animosity, and if we ever want to get anywhere we have to swallow our pride and work together, not against each other! Why, why can't you see that?'

His voice was slightly pleading by the end, but Kira was unsympathetic, a fierce and entirely Bajoran anger radiating off her. How dare he talk to her about not seeing things for what they were?

'I guess a few million deaths at the hands of people like you altered my perspective a little!' she spat. Dukat sat back with a sigh.

'Major, your continued refusal to cooperate will not only fail to reverse a single one of those regrettable deaths – and before you interrupt, yes, I do regret them – it will also cause a great deal more suffering! If you'd rather condemn all those people to Dominion enslavement simply to satisfy your desire for revenge on me then so be it, but I think that's a remarkably blinkered view of the situation. I have a feeling most of this quadrant will agree with me.'

'Now you're dumping all the responsibility on Bajor again, just like the Occupation!' Kira fumed, getting up and striding around to his side of the table, stabbing a finger at him. 'It wasn't your fault that all those people died, it was ours for refusing to comply with your wishes. It wasn't your fault that Bajor got strip-mined to within an inch of its life, it was Central Command's fault for setting unrealistic targets. Now it's not your fault if the Dominion win, it's ours for refusing to go along with your stupid plans, right? I've had enough of this, Dukat! You can't blackmail me!'

Dukat got to his feet and gripped her by the shoulders. She tried to throw him off, but his hands were too strong. He spoke quietly compared to her rant, but with no less conviction.

'I have no desire to see you executed, but you leave me very little choice. I will not let you and your warped sense of justice stand in the way of this quadrant's best hope for victory, and I will not let you sacrifice your own people just to spite me.'

Kira's rage boiled over; she backhanded him full across the face and wrenched out of his grip.

'Get out, Dukat,' she hissed, pointing at the door. Dukat looked coldly at her, a darker grey patch rising on his cheekbone where she'd slapped him.

'I don't want to see Bajor become a Dominion world any more than you do, so I suggest you open your eyes and see the bigger picture,' he said evenly, only a slight shake in his voice to betray his anger. 'And I suggest you do it quickly, or you will die and a lot of people will share your fate. Come along, Ziyal, it seems the Major has some serious thinking to do.'

He turned around abruptly and stalked out of the room. Kira jerked her head at Ziyal.

'Go on, you heard him,' she snapped. The girl went to Kira's side and began to clear up the plates.

'Please, Nerys,' she said quietly. 'He's right.'

'Of course you think he's right, you're his daughter!' Kira snorted. 'But I've known him longer than you have. He's got something up his sleeve, he always does.'

'Not this time. He's serious about this, trust me.'

Kira was torn between regret and anger. She knew how much Ziyal loved Dukat, but she couldn't for the life of her work out why. She sighed.

'I do trust you. But I don't trust him, that's the problem.'

'What if he's right? Are you so sure he's wrong that you're really ready to die for it?'

'Ziyal, you don't understand. Your father's tried this kind of thing a lot of times and it's never ended well. I'm not going to compromise myself for him, not again.'

Ziyal took hold of Kira's arm and looked into her face with imploring, glassy eyes.

'Nerys, I'm begging you, don't make me choose between you and him! I don't want to lose you.'

Kira's heart twisted and she put her arms around Ziyal, hugging her tight for a minute.

'I don't want to lose you either,' she said honestly. 'I really don't. But this is something I have to do my way. Now go on, your father's waiting.'

She pushed her gently in the direction of the door but Ziyal stood her ground, hands on hips and a stubborn tilt to her jaw that proclaimed every inch of her Bajoran heritage.

'I know Bajor and Cardassia have done some horrible things to each other in the past, but that shouldn't make you enemies forever!' she insisted. 'You can work together and get something good out of it, I know you can!'

Her face was so hopeful that Kira could hardly bear to shoot her down, but the girl was living in a dream world. She shook her head wearily.

'No, Ziyal, we can't. We never have.'

'Oh?' Ziyal exclaimed, eyes blazing suddenly. 'And what does that make me, then? An abomination? A freak of nature?'

'No, wait, I didn't mean – ' Kira began, realising exactly what she'd just implied, but Ziyal was beyond that, her face screwed up in fury.

'I thought you could see past all that, but obviously I was wrong!' she shouted. 'You're just as blind as everyone else, and you'd rather die than open your eyes and look at what's right in front of your face! Prophets, Nerys, why do you have to be so stupid?'

Her voice cracked on the last word; she turned on her heel and fled, sobbing. Kira swore and hurried after her.

'Ziyal, wait – ' she called, but Ziyal was already gone. She went back into her quarters, saw Dukat's empty glass and hurled it against the wall with a crash. It didn't make her feel any better.

'Now what do I do?' she asked the empty room despairingly. There was, of course, no answer.