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Maybe it was the fact that she trailed a little behind the others, attempting to memorize the route, or maybe it was because she was already more keyed up than they were, still new enough to be excited and feel the adrenaline well in advance of the mission. Or maybe it was just luck that she was the first to hear the soft footsteps behind her, the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves.
Kira Nerys whirled around, phaser rifle at the ready. She saw the gray of the Cardassian uniform, saw the flash from the muzzle of his disruptor as he raised it, and she fired. One shot, a direct hit to the center of his chest. She had been just a hair faster, and her shot had caused his to go wide, splintering a tree just inches from Shakaar’s left shoulder.
Time seemed to slow down as Nerys watched the blood spatter from his wound, the droplets speckling the leaves of a bush next to him. His grip on his weapon slackened, and it fell to the forest floor as his eyes went wide. He was looking right at her as he dropped to his knees, staring at her until his eyes rolled back into his head and he pitched forward, coming to rest in the dirt at her feet with a final thud.
The resistance cell was already reacting, diving for cover and fanning out to find any compatriots who might be with him. Hands roughly pulled her under the cover of trees, out of a direct line of sight if there were other Cardassians after them. She stumbled, but the hands kept her upright.
“Kira, are you hurt? Kira! Nerys, talk to me!”
She looked blankly up into Lorit’s anxious face, realizing that this wasn’t the first time he had asked the question and shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She looked back out through the brush to where she could see a scaly Cardassian hand outstretched in the dirt, never to move again.
“I k-killed him.” Her face was bloodless as she swayed on the spot, and Lorit grabbed for her again, bracing her and keeping her upright. “I shot him, and he d-died.”
“You saved our lives,” he said quietly. “If you’d reacted any slower, it would be Shakaar laying in the dirt over there. Shakaar, and maybe more of us.”
She nodded, eyes still fixed on the hand. “I know that. But I’ve never seen… not up close. He was looking at me, and he just… died.” She wobbled again, and Lorit tightened his grip on her elbows. He didn’t speak again, and she was grateful for the chance to pull herself together. Her thoughts swirled, but she couldn’t seem to keep hold of them long enough to form anything coherent.
The others were coming back now, speaking in low voices as they reconvened near the body. Nerys took a breath to steady herself and made her way out to join them, clutching her rifle tightly to disguise the shaking in her hands. Lorit followed close behind her.
Shakaar clapped her on the shoulder when she approached. “Good job, Kira. You saved our skins today.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
“You okay?” asked Furel, uncharacteristically quiet, taking in her pale, pinched features.
She nodded again. “Fine.”
“If you’re gonna puke,” drawled Latha. “Do it over there.” He gestured vaguely at the trees. “There’s enough muck on my boots as it is.”
“I’m not gonna puke.” She squared her shoulders and glared at him, refusing to admit that her stomach actually did feel a little queasy.
He grinned and nudged her arm. “You did good, kid.”
Nerys didn’t reply. A real compliment from one of them normally left her flying high for hours, if not days, but she felt hollow as she watched Furel and Jala strip the body of valuables - in this case, a handful of litas, the disruptor, and his boots - and drag it into the brush. They rejoined the group, and Nerys stepped toward the body.
“Kira -” Lorit reached out, but she shrugged off his hand and moved through the bushes.
She dropped to one knee beside the soldier’s head, just looking for a moment. Her hand trembling slightly, she reached forward and closed his eyes. With her hand still on his face, she bowed her head and sent a silent prayer to the Prophets, asking for guidance for the man’s pagh. Nerys wasn’t sure if Cardassians had something like a pagh, but if they did, even a Cardassian pagh should be at peace after death.
Then she said another prayer for her own pagh, for the ragged, gaping chasm right through the middle of it that her own actions seemed to have left behind. She prayed for the slimy feeling roiling in her gut that was threatening to explode and shatter her very being. It had been a Cardassian life she had taken, in defense of herself and her comrades, but she was still a killer, and she didn’t know if she would ever feel whole again.
The others had moved off through the trees, quietly rehashing the mission plans, but Lorit was waiting for her when she rose and stepped back.
Nerys’ face was still pale, but her eyes remained dry and clear. He squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll be alright, Kira.” And he walked after the others, leaving her to follow.
For once, she was grateful that her part in the mission was small, simply acting as a lookout as the others investigated what was left of a Cardassian outpost near an abandoned mine. The mission was uneventful with not a single Cardassian in sight, but Nerys was still secretly relieved when they retreated, toting what supplies were worth scavenging.
.>*<.>*<.>*<.
They arrived back at the camp just as the rest of their cell was shutting down for the evening. Nerys barely tasted the dinner that had been set aside for them, but she ate it anyway, clearing her plate quickly and moving toward the entrance to their cave without saying much to anyone.
Generally, the members of the Shakaar grabbed their bed rolls and laid them out in the sleeping cavern in the approximate order that they went to bed. It saved the late comers from tripping over those that were already asleep, and it allowed the early risers to slip out the other side without disturbing anyone.
However, when Nerys walked into the cavern, Lorit waved her over to where he had claimed a spot just to the side of the entrance. She looked at him in confusion, but he only muttered, “Just in case,” and rolled over, getting as comfortable as was possible on the hard cave floor.
Still uncertain, Nerys tossed her bedroll down next to his and snuggled into it. As exhausted as she was, sleep was still a long time coming to her that night as her thoughts churned with the day’s events, and when she finally dropped off, she was restless, slipping in and out of unsettling dreams.
.>*<.>*<.>*<.
Nerys sat up straight with a gasp. She would have cried out, but a hand clamped over her mouth, and a voice spoke quietly in her ear, “Easy. Come on, let’s get you some fresh air.”
She was panting and trembling, trying to shake off the fragments of the nightmare that she couldn't quite remember as the hands helped her up and guided her out of the cave.
Lorit settled her on the log by the remnants of their campfire and returned quickly with a cup of water. She sipped it carefully, using both hands to keep it from spilling.
“Better?” he asked gently.
She nodded. “How did you know?”
“To sleep near the door?”
She nodded again, staring into the dying embers.
“I had nightmares after the first time I killed someone up close like that.”
She turned her head sharply to look at him, but his gaze was distant, seeing through the darkness, into his own past.
“Did they… do they ever go away?”
He shook his head and gave her a wry smile. “Never. They become more manageable though. Not so jarring after a while. For the most part at least.”
She took another sip of her water, thinking it over. She realized that most of the Shakaar had nightmares. When she had first joined the Underground, she had noted what restless sleepers they all were, but now she realized it wasn’t just a need to keep alert, to keep an ear out for the enemy. It was an internal restlessness, borne of the destruction they had caused and the death they had dealt.
Nerys and Lorit sat in companionable silence for a time, each lost in thought before he said, “I regretted bringing you into the Shakaar at first.”
She looked at him, startled and a little hurt.
“Not because you’re not capable,” he assured her, “but because you’re so young.”
Nerys opened her mouth to protest, but he kept going. “I felt like I robbed you of the chance to have a childhood, the chance to lead a normal life.”
She shook her head sadly. “There are no children in the refugee camp I came from. Not really. Everyone grows up quickly there.”
“You are wise beyond your years, and now I see that you deserve the chance to fight for what you believe in. To fight for the life that you want to lead, just as much as any of the rest of us.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Thanks.”
“I saw you pray for him,” he said abruptly, his face unreadable.
She glanced at him and away again, apprehensive and unsure if he would chastise her but convinced of her actions. “I thought his pagh should have peace.”
He nodded slowly. “ I think you’re right.”
“I prayed for him, but I prayed for me, too,” she admitted. “I didn’t like the way it felt to end his life.”
“When you take someone’s life, Kira,” he said solemnly, “you lose a part of your own as well. Never forget that a life is a life, no matter what. Never lose sight of that, or you’ll have lost yourself, too.” He patted her on the shoulder and headed for the cave entrance, leaving her to her thoughts.