Star Trek '12: 1512 AD - Bajorans

Kai Ra did not support the project at all.  She found it to be incredibly alarming, even though in her heart she knew long ago such excursions had once exposed the Bajorans to the Prophets.  What might be learned this time?

She oversaw, along with the first minister, the welfare of her people with infinite care.  Sometimes she wondered if she shouldn’t be more careful still, if the Bajorans wouldn’t be better off if she held the title of first minister as well.  She was ever fearful that the delicate balance and great cultural treasure of her people might not be better off remaining sheltered, and that building solar ships, or anything of the kind, might not invite danger and disaster and ruin, in short the end of everything that she knew.

Who else was out there?  The Prophets, yes, and she was grateful for that, more grateful than she could ever properly express, so that she was exceedingly humble, and yes, ambitious, but tempered and subdued, something she hoped all the Bajorans could remain.  There were dragons in the stars, who would only seek to exploit the resources, but not the riches, of the world.  They would be surprised to learn the strength of the Bajorans, she was sure, but she was not eager to test it.  For that reason she almost cancelled the project, even though it had been the last wishes of her only son, the last remnant that he had once existed.  But as Kai, she was encouraged to view all Bajorans as her children.  She had to keep reminding herself of that.

Solar ships, indeed.  Like most people, she didn’t believe they had any chance of success, that they couldn’t possibly make a journey of any significance, that if they didn’t fall apart before exiting orbit, then they would become a satellite and only circle Bajor, perhaps forever.  She shuddered to imagine these vessels in flame, like the Fire Caves, the destination of a pilgrimage she’d postponed for a year now, mindful of the necessity for the gesture, but fearful that she might be corrupted by the Pah’Wraiths, despite her faith, despite her devotion to the Prophets.  It had happened to others, and it would happen again, but she was supposed to be above such spiritual failings.  She was the Kai, after all.

Her son had worked so hard on the project, only to fall ill unexpectedly.  She had never heard an acceptable explanation for what had happened to him.  The project faltered for several years, rudderless, until she herself had prompted renewed efforts.  She now struggled to understand why she’d done that, perhaps out of continued grief, delirium.  But then what was she experiencing now, denial?  Was she still so affected by the death of her son?  What would her flock think of her, if they knew?  Was that the reason she now sought to shut the project down?

She kept delaying, just as with the trip to the Fire Caves, until the very day of the launch.  As Kai, she was given ceremonial final approval.  She looked over the vast assembly, saw the hope in a thousand faces, imagined that the pilot was her son.  She simply nodded, in the end, forgoing the virtual words that clutched into ruin in her hand on a scroll she tossed into the fire after the vessel shot into the sky, broke the atmosphere, and unfurled its wings, now out of view, and set out on a course with destiny.

Who knew what the future held?