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Kira is not a bad person at all.
She's not even violent, despite what a few Cardassians have to say about her. Even if it makes her proud, in a backwards way, that they think she's a problem worth discussing.
After all, before she was a terrorist, she was only ever an ant under the boot of the occupation. She was just a kid rolling with the punches.
Now, she's a young woman with a gun in her hands and dirt in her boots, hiding out in the caves between strikes. In this war, they call her a terrorist for doing her best to resist occupation.
It's hardly ever enough, she finds. Their damage is tactical and important, of course, and she believes the leadership. She would follow Shakaar into her very death if that meant Bajor would be free.
Unfortunately, her life was not worth much, and her planet was resource rich enough to ensure the Cardassians wanted to fight for it. Which they were extremely good at.
Better than the bajorans used to be before they had no other choice. Still, out there, in the camps, many of her compatriots secretly prided themselves in their ability to simply follow along with the Cardassians and trust the Prophets and their plan.
Passively, they thought themselves a little better, a little less violent and mean than she was. She could tell from her brief stints back in and out of those camps. Some were grateful. Some were bitter. Some were resigned. Most of them had lost all hope of ever feeling free again.
As if the Cardassians liked them any better when they behaved.
So, despite their ideas, she carried on.
Kira knew the Prophets relied on people to do what needed to be done. So she would do as she must. Let that be her prayer.
Kira is not violent, but she feels more like a person with a gun in her hand. She feels more like she's not their slave, like this, or about to be one of them again.
When Kira is doing something against the occupation, even if it looks foolish or small against the established powers of her oppressors, she feels like she's reclaiming her land.
This is my domain, her blood sings in her ears. You will never belong like I do.