Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek Deep Space Nine, and I'm certainly not profiting from it.

Spoiler alert: Worlds of Star Trek Deep Space Nine: the Dominion.

Chapter 7

Laas hated regenerating. It was a waste of time and a weakness. He pitied humanoids who had to sleep nearly a third of their lives. Didn't they understand how vulnerable and unproductive that made them? They probably didn't. They were fools.

As soon as he awoke from regenerating, the Vorta Lidan had news to report. "Founder, we just decoded the last message from our spy on Odo's ship," he said.

Laas gave him permission to continue.

"The traitor Weyoun has joined them, as we feared he would. Odo's forces are secretly constructing a Jem'hadar base in the Eka'gar system. Over fifty Jem'hadar ships loyal to Odo are patrolling the space around the Wormhole, with more expected to join them. We also have some interesting news from our subspace monitors in the Alpha Quadrant."

"Continue," Laas commanded.

"The Jem'hadar Odo sent to prove they can be more than just killing machines," the Vorta said this with a derisive sneer, "attacked the woman he was ordered to serve. They're holding him until Odo decides what to do with him."

A slow smile spread across Laas's unformed features. He was very familiar with the Taran'atar situation…and Deep Space Nine's holding cells. "Lidan, Dikana's ship is still near the Wormhole, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Hail it, on a secure frequency. I have a little job for them."

"We're being hailed. It's Chiarta, the Iriniadi," Second Rinak'vaka announced.

Odo tensed. Chiarta's return could only mean one of two things: Kira had recovered, or…The other possibility was too painful to contemplate.

"He's requesting permission to board," Rinak'vaka added, slightly nonplussed.

"Permission granted," Odo said.

A moment later, Chiarta was beamed onto the Shkalek's bridge. "I hope you don't mind my intrusion, Founder Odo, but I wanted to deliver my news in person."

"I don't mind at all," Odo said, recalling the Iriniadi preference for communicating in person, considering it more polite than sending messages over long distances.

"I'm happy to report that your friend has recovered completely. Might I add that she's very beautiful? I understand completely why you would be so interested in her wellbeing. And I don't usually find non-Iriniadi attractive. But she just has a…something that would be appreciated by any species."

Kalaran smiled in amusement. "Believe me, he knows. When he gets in the right mood he can talk about her virtues for hours."

"She's a remarkable woman," Odo said. The news of her recovery felt like a physical burden being lifted off his chest. He wanted to go to her so much, but he didn't dare. And not just because he needed to oversee the defense of the Wormhole; he had been the one who put Kira's life in danger by sending her Taran'atar, and although he didn't honestly believe she would hate him for it, he was terrified that she would.

"She also seems to have had a vision while she was unconscious," Chiarta added tentatively. "From what I overheard, she seems to think there's an infectious lifeform about to threaten her quadrant."

"Thank you for telling me." Odo decided he would wait until he could send a secure message, and then call Kira to ask about it. Or at least use that as an excuse to speak to her. Of course, with the tense stalemate quickly forming between the rival leaders of the Dominion, it could be a while before he had that chance.

On one mission, back in her days with the resistance, Shakaar had rebuked Kira for punching out her fellow resistance member, Olin Tafana. He was supposed to plant a bomb in an office building, but when they saw how much security the building had, Kira decided she should do it herself. Olin disagreed. Kira had stopped Olin not because she was worried he could get hurt—she never had much cared for him—but simply because she thought she had a better chance of success. Olin wasn't the most careful of the cell's members, as evidenced by how he managed to get himself killed in a later operation, but he probably would have been able to plant the bomb.

The point was Kira disliked trusting important things to other people. That's why she was so unhappy that she couldn't do anything about the impending nairait epidemic. She had told Starfleet Medical everything she knew about it (though she hadn't been very specific on where she got her information) and now she could only sit back and hope the measures they had in place to contain its spread would work, and wait for a response from the Beta Quadrant which could be over a year in coming, if it came at all.

She was having trouble focusing on the paperwork she had to catch up on. And yet a very angry security chief marching into her office wasn't quite a welcome distraction.

"We have to talk," Ro said in a tone that indicated what she really wanted to say was far more vile, and probably would have been punctuated with a physical injury.

"What's the problem?" Kira asked as politely as she could.

"You know…very well what the problem is." It took great effort for Ro not to use unprofessional expletives. "You authorized a transfer to my department without consulting me."

"You've never complained when I did that before." Kira put her elbow on the desk and rested her chin on her fist. "I take it you don't get along with Lieutenant Burnau Bez?"

Ro slammed her hand on the desk. The action seemed to calm her. "That man is an arrogant, insensitive, inconsiderate…" she searched for any insult in any language foul enough to describe him, and finally settled on a Klingon word with a meaning and pronunciation she wasn't entirely sure of, but which sounded about right. "…p'taQ."

"Well, he requested the transfer, and I couldn't think of any reason not to approve it. He seems to have handled security well enough while you were on medical leave. His wife has already rented space on the Promenade for a holosuite theater."

"His wife," Ro bit her lip as she spoke the word, "is a heartless, vindictive woman who only wants to start a business on Deep Space Nine to ruin Quark."

So that was it, Kira realized. "Personally, I don't see anything wrong with a little friendly competition. Quark has had the only holosuites on the station for years, and if you ask me, they've always been overpriced. Besides, he still has the casino monopoly."

"Have you met Nshevalth, Captain?"

"I've said hello to her once or twice," Kira said.

"She's insufferable. I honestly don't know how they stand each other."

Kira took a deep breath and made a decision. "Ro, I appreciate the job you've done as security chief, and I trust your judgment, so if you seriously believe you'll have a problem working with Bez, I'll rescind my approval of the transfer, but I won't deny Nshevalth the right to open a business on the Promenade. It's not that…it's not because I don't like Quark: she has as much right to be there as he does."

Ro looked a little shocked. "Thank you, Captain."

"But I think you should take a week to think about it. You might get along with Lieutenant Bez better as your inferior than your replacement. If in a week you're still adamant about this, I'll remove him. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Dismissed."

Nshevalth rearranged the bottles on the shelf behind the counter yet again. In a few minutes, Wormhole Holotheater and Café would be opening for its first business day. She hadn't expected, when she came up with the idea of competing with Quark's, that she would actually be excited. But it did make sense: she'd been fascinated by Deep Space Nine since the Dominion War began, and often longed to visit it. Once she had seen it, she wasn't the least bit disappointed, and settling down here certainly had its appeals. Burnau had agreed with it more quickly than she dared hope. He still had his heart set on retiring to Betazed, but he was as content to serve on Deep Space Nine as he would have been on a starship.

She opened the store and waited. She didn't have any spectacular hopes for business on the first day, so she was surprised when Captain Kira walked through the doors.

"Can I get you something, Captain?" Nshevalth inquired.

"Raktajino, please."

"Would you like Betazoid chocolate froth or Orion caramel cream or something on it?"

Kira paused to consider. She'd never been offered choices like that at the replimat. "No, I think I'll just have it plain today."

"Coming up." Nshevalth turned to a strange machine, scooped raktajino beans into it, and pushed some buttons. A minute later, fresh brewed raktajino spurted into a tall, double-handled, translucent mug, which Nshevalth placed delicately on the counter.

Kira stared at the steaming mug. Intellectually, she knew there had to be such a thing as non-replicated raktajino, but she had never, in her memory, actually witnessed it being made. She took a careful sip of the substance, then closed her eyes in a state of primal bliss. "Mmm!" she declared. So much flavor! So many varied nuances and subtle shades of taste!

"I take it you approve?"

Kira took another sip before answering. "Let's just say, I think your business is going to do just fine here."

"I'm glad to have your vote of confidence."

Kira smiled at the tall, dark alien. She considered what Ro said. 'Insufferable' wasn't the first word Kira would choose to describe her. Not even close.

"Next time, you ought to try it with the caramel cream," Nshevalth recommended. "It's Burnau's favorite."

"Perhaps I will." Kira took a bigger sip. The drink was slightly cooler now, making it easier to drink. She swished it across her tongue, savoring it, then swallowed slowly, letting its heat suffuse her insides.

Nshevalth decided to make a cup of her own. She topped it with a mint green cream, then sat down in a tall stool on her side of the counter. She rested her elbows on the counter and inhaled the steam coming off her drink. Her arms were so long and slender they would have been physically impractical if Tzenkethi bones weren't unusually pliant.

Kira mirrored the other woman's posture. "How long have you been married, if you don't mind my asking?"

"A couple of years, but we knew each other for a long time before that."

"Do you love him very much?"

"That is why I married him," she said with a wide smile.

"Would you still have opened this place if he hadn't been transferred here?"

Nshevalth considered the question for a moment. "I don't know. I like this place, and I kind of felt like a useless tag-along when he was serving on the Alexandria."

"If he went back to serving on a ship now, would you close this place and go with him?"

She looked around. "You know, I don't think so. There are many Starfleet spouses who choose to stay on their home planet and see their spouse only on occasion. I love him enough to wait for him, but in the meantime I need a life of my own."

"And you would trust him to be away from you that long?" Kira asked.

"Well, you have to understand that Tzenkethi are far more…tolerant of such things. In Tzenkethi wedding ceremonies, the ones who read the ritual words—usually the parents or siblings of both parties—ask the spouses to support each other emotionally, socially, physically, and financially until such time as they deem it no longer practical, convenient, and/or enjoyable. No vows of fidelity, no 'till death do us part'."

Kira raised her eyebrows and leaned forward with interest. "I take it marriages don't last long there."

"It depends on how you look at it. A marriage that ends in divorce can still be considered a successful marriage, and spouses can spend years away from each other without a problem. During the Dominion War, Burnau and I would often go months without hearing from each other, but our love only grew. He's my imzadi; we could be on opposite sides of the galaxy, but we would still be together."

Kira had started the conversation to find out what Nshevalth would do if her husband were transferred, but she instead found herself thinking of Odo. "You said you knew each other for years before you were married. Did you start out as friends?"

"Not really. The moment I saw him…I looked into his eyes, and I thought I could see the mysteries of the universe in them. I was captivated. I tried to hide it—if I'd known about Betazoids, I wouldn't have bothered. I left my home planet—separated myself from my family, my friends, and everything I'd ever known—for the slight possibility of being with him, even before I knew he felt the same about me. I used to be afraid that he didn't love me as much as I loved him. I wondered if what I interpreted as signs of his love was just wishful thinking on my part."

Kira realized that Odo must have wondered the same thing about her. "But you don't any more? How did he prove his love for you?"

"Asking me to marry him helped. Also, at one point during the war, the ship I was serving on was shot down by the Jem'hadar, and Bez risked his life to find us."

Kira tried to remember if she ever risked her life to save Odo. She was sure she had, but couldn't think of any specific incidences, though she could remember several occasions when Odo risked his life to save her. "Were you ever in love before you met Burnau?"

Nshevalth looked down, a little embarrassed. "Yes. Twice. Both times with Tzenkethi men. The first one was very religious, and I'm not, and we decided it wouldn't work. The second one died in combat during one of our many border wars."

"I'm sorry."

Nshevalth shrugged. "If either of them worked out, I might have eventually loved them as much as I love Burnau, but I'm glad they didn't. Burnau is worth everything I gave up, and anything I might ever have to endure."

Kira had never asked herself if she loved Odo more than she had loved Bareil or Shakaar, but now she realized she did. And that he didn't know it.

"Thank you," she said after drinking the last of her raktajino. "I enjoyed our chat. I should get to work now."

"Anytime," Nshevalth called after the departing captain, wondering what she had found so significant.