Title: Small Change 
Author: Charlene (charlene.vickers@gmail.com) 
Series: ST:DS9 
Codes: AU S/m, various others 
Summary: A Dominion victory 28 years in the future forces the Q and the 
Prophets to change the course of history to prevent the destruction of 
the Federation. Benjamin Sisko finds himself back on Deep Space Nine in 
a very different timeline. 
Disclaimer: If I could turn back time, if I could find a way...I'd own 
Star Trek. I don't: Paramount/CBS does. And Cher owns those lyrics. I 
don't own anything.
Notes: Thanks to my neighbour (who wants to remain anonymous) for 
betaing without giggling. At least in front of me. I think. Also thanks 
to the people (and you know who you are) who endured and answered my 
interminable and annoying questions about DS9 - not owning a working TV 
is fun! 

******

Chapter 1

******

--The Temple has been desecrated.

--Equilibrium has been destroyed. There is suffering.

--It is not as it should be. The mortals.... 

--We cannot save them. 

They mourned. 

****** 

--There are those who wish to make corrections. They are attempting to 
contact us.

--They are more powerful than us but our knowledge is greater. They are 
confined to linearity to a greater extent. Their power is limited with 
respect to us. 

--They wish to restore equilibrium. They are also aware of the False 
Ones. They share our concerns.

--It is agreed then. We will meet with them. How will we communicate?

A delegate was selected from the group. 

--You were once linear. You will become so again. The cause is 
sufficient. Hear their story. Link with them and find an answer. We 
will support and assist you. Once communication is ended you will 
rejoin us.

He felt himself apart for the first time since time itself had become 
irrelevant. He developed shape and cohesion and symmetry. As the being 
of other type materialized in front of him, he realized that its 
general shape, although smaller, matched his own. 

"They've sent me to find a way to prevent the disaster," the being 
said. "You know more than we do about how to prevent it. We can't do 
this without your help." 

"I have been appointed the Emissary to the Q Continuum," he replied, 
his voice rough. "I am the Sisko." 

******

"Absolutely not," she said. "We can't prevent Voyager from destroying 
the Borg. They were as much of a threat to the Federation as the 
Dominion." 

Sisko frowned at the ambassador of the Continuum. She had taken the 
shape of a Human, the species he had once been. His people had also 
taken the shapes of mortals and surrounded the two of them, bathing 
them in an amber glow. 

Memories were returning. The Dominion was the enemy that had returned 
to desecrate the Celestial Temple and destroy the Federation. The 
Federation was the group of mortals the Q wished to protect and to 
which he had once belonged. Voyager was an object, a ship, belonging to 
the Federation and operated by a group of mortals. The Borg was an 
enemy that had been destroyed earlier. 

He recognized three of the mortal shapes his people had assumed -- they 
were essential, he knew, but for what reason... 

He returned to Q. "But you said that the only reason this Dominion 
attacked the Federation a second time was because it was able to free 
up the resources it had reserved for a Borg attack. If the Borg was so 
weak that one ship could destroy it, then surely it makes sense to 
leave the Borg whole and let the Dominion sit over-prepared for an 
attack that will never come." 

"Voyager had a number of advantages the Dominion could never enjoy," 
she replied. "The Borg was also planning to attack Earth, not the 
Dominion. The information the Federation found in the Borg databanks 
was clear. We won't sacrifice Earth for anything; the Borg had to be 
destroyed." 

--Then destroy the Dominion. 

She turned to the dark-haired prophet who had spoken. "The Continuum 
won't commit genocide. It would put things unnaturally out of balance. 
To be honest, Q was willing, but Q said it would be immoral, and Q 
pointed out that if we destroyed the Dominion, what would stop another 
force from doing the same thing to the Humans or the Bajorans?" She 
paused. "And if we were prepared to commit genocide, we'd have gone 
back in time and destroyed the wormhole before this began." 

"By the 'wormhole' she means the Celestial Temple," a shocked Sisko 
explained, turning to his people. "Us." 

"Obviously we're not going to do that," Q quickly continued, "and 
blocking the wormhole before the invasion won't be enough. They've 
learned how to create new ones, and as the Founders, like you, are 
largely beyond our control, we can't take the memory of how to create 
the artificial wormholes from them. The problem is that the Dominion 
sees the Federation both as a threat and as a wealthy prize. They won't 
stop until they've won." She thought for a moment. "Unlike you and us, 
the Founders are completely linear. If we could block the wormhole 
before the Dominion discovered the Alpha Quadrant..." 

--We will not allow it. The Sisko must be allowed to join with us 
again. 

--The Sisko must not be kept away. He is essential.

"All right," Q said tersely. "So that idea's out." 

Sisko raised his hand. "Wait. What if the Temple were closed, at least 
for a time, to everyone but me?" 

--That would be acceptable.

--The mortal Sisko will be fragile now that he has joined with us. He 
must be given a companion. The Companion will attend him. 

"When should the wormhole be closed?" the Q asked.

--The Sisko comprehends linearity. He will decide. 

He pursed his lips and tried to remember. The Bajorans that Q had 
mentioned were the race of linear mortals his people needed to protect. 
The Temple couldn't be closed until after the last ancient Tear of the 
Prophet had been ejected from the Temple by his people. There were also 
mentions of the Temple in the sacred writings... 

"The Prophecies," he finally said. "When were the last ones written?" 

"Horran's final prophecies were written 730 years before you first 
visited the wormhole." 

"And the last Tear left the Temple when?" 

"Two thousand years before that date." 

"Then close the Temple just after Horran's death. Will that prevent the 
Dominion from discovering the Federation and Bajor?" 

Q thought for a moment. "The Dominion has historically avoided distant 
and powerful opponents. Without the wormhole it's very unlikely the 
Federation would pose a tempting target even if it were discovered. 
I'll have to meet with the Continuum." She disappeared in a flash of 
light. 

He regarded his people. "History will have changed. I may not be dead 
yet. They might send me back." 

--We do not understand. You ascended here when you departed linearity.

He tried a new explanation. "I may not depart linearity at the same 
point if changes have been made." 

--Whenever it concludes, you will be brought here. This is your home. 

--You are the Sisko. You are of us. 

He looked at the three Prophets who had spoken. Why were those three so 
important...he couldn't remember but he knew they were vital. 

Q returned. "The Continuum agrees that this is an acceptable solution 
to the problem," she said. "However, a complication will arise: the 
pah-wraiths." 

"The False Ones," Sisko explained to the prophets. 

"When you sealed the Fire Caves, you sealed in the majority of the pah-
wraiths, but some remained on the surface of Bajor. The Continuum 
believes that had the Dominion not invaded a second time, the pah-
wraiths on the surface would have multiplied and become a threat to 
Bajor in no more than 150 years." 

--The Second Age of the Emissary. We are prepared. 

"In the new timeline, however," Q said, "the Continuum's fear is that 
the majority of the wraiths will escape the Caves before they can be 
sealed. We project that they will spread throughout the quadrant, 
perhaps even to Earth. It's a complication we don't want to deal with, 
Emissary or no Emissary. Earth has to be protected." 

--Then destroy them. They are false prophets. 

Q glowered at the prophet who had spoken. "We've been through this. 
They're sentient. We won't. And we can't just seal off the caves 
either. Sealing off the caves only means that the pah-wraiths on the 
surface will become active within 150 years. We'd rather not have to 
clean up the same mess twice." 

"There's a simple solution, if it's workable," Sisko said. "The pah-
wraiths are most dangerous when they possess other living beings. 
Couldn't you just modify their powers by preventing them from being 
able to do so?" 

"It'll work," Q said after a moment. "Do the Prophets agree?" 

--The False Ones must not win. 

--This action is acceptable but must be monitored. They are a danger as 
long as they exist, possession or not.

Q paused. "We'll do it. There is a third problem. Cardassia-" 

Sisko interrupted, not fully understanding what he was doing. "There's 
something else. It's absolutely necessary. I don't know why but--" He 
gestured towards the three prophets he had recognized. "There are three 
mortals. Humans. They look like that. They must survive." 

"By survive," Q asked, "do you mean a full life?" 

"I must," he murmured. "I just know that their survival is essential." 

--The Sisko has knowledge of matters we are unable to comprehend due to 
our natures.

--If he believes this is a vital matter, it must be so.

"That actually resolves the issue I was about to bring up," she said 
with another quick nod. "Very well. Sisko, these changes to the 
timeline also mean that you didn't die in the Fire Caves. Although it 
would perhaps be easier for you to have memories of your life as it 
unfolded with the changes in this timeline-" 

--We will not allow it.

--The Sisko will remember his time in the Temple. 

She once again glared at the prophets. "-the Continuum also believes it 
would be best if you retained the memories of your previous life and of 
the twenty-eight years you've spent here." 

A shudder went through him. Twenty-eight years... 

"You'll adjust. You can visit the wormhole-" 

--The Temple. 

"-the Temple," Q continued, rolling her eyes, "any time you wish. But I 
have to warn you. You're intelligent and I know you're not going to 
deliberately interfere in any major changes between the two timelines, 
but you might be surprised by some of the details of your personal 
life. Things may seem unpleasant or confusing to you at first and you 
might be tempted to make changes. But humans have a saying: for want of 
a nail the kingdom was lost. Remember that. One small change could 
cause more damage in the long run than you could ever expect. You must 
also keep all of this," and she gestured to their surroundings, "to 
yourself. There are details that -- well, if you told them to the wrong 
person, you could also change the future in the wrong way, and there's 
no saying who the wrong person might be. You might be surprised." 

He could understand that part. Mortals' thinking was limited, as he 
well knew from his own experience; he would have to guard against their 
learning what had happened. He especially doubted if anybody in that 
organization he had belonged to -- Starfleet, she had called it -- 
would believe that he had spent almost three decades in a completely 
different timeline, or that there had been a war with a Dominion they 
had no knowledge of. Since his people wouldn't be able to communicate 
in the new timeline with anyone but him, there'd be no way for them or 
anyone else to corroborate his story. He would probably be sent away. 
How could he commune with his people? Unacceptable. 

But what was this about a personal life? 

Q smiled. "You'll return to mortal existence at the same moment of time 
that you left it. Well, you won't be in the Fire Caves since that 
didn't happen in this timeline, but you'll be the same age. Are you 
ready?" 

"So quickly." 

"I'm afraid so." 

He looked at his people one last time. "I'll visit when I can." 

--We will call the Sisko. 

He turned to her and nodded. She held out her hand: they were 
surrounded by light. 

******

He found himself laying on his right side in his bed on Deep Space 
Nine, shivering faintly in the pitch-black night under a thin cotton 
blanket. My name is Benjamin Sisko and I am a human, he thought. The 
link is gone and I am a human. I am 45 years old. I am a man. He gulped 
a breath of recycled air. I'm here. I'm back. 

He focused on a bright patch near his face: a chrono. The numbers said 
0205. Gamma shift, he remembered. 26 hours to a day, 7 days to a week. 
He could see little else in the dimness of the room. He looked out the 
viewport at a paper-thin brilliant blue crescent hanging among the 
stars. Deep Space Nine was closer to Bajor and further from home in 
this timeline. He would be able to see home from the office. 

No, he told himself. This is home now. I have to re-adjust to being a 
human. 

A chill ran down his back as the memories of his life washed over him. 
Q had told him not to change anything, but he already had without 
knowing it. He had begged Q to allow Jennifer, Jake and Kasidy, the 
humans whose shapes the three Prophets had taken and he had recognized, 
to live full lives, not remembering that he had considered them 
"essential" simply because he had loved them. But Jennifer had died as 
a young woman in his original timeline. Was it wrong to give a woman 70 
years or more of life that she shouldn't have had? Or did her survival 
solve a problem, as Q had implied? 

He wondered: had Jennifer accepted his status as the Emissary in this 
timeline? Had she remained with him in a universe where he was the only 
individual able to enter the Temple, other than some companion? Was 
Jennifer this companion his people had mentioned? He frowned. Shouldn't 
he have known about this? He had learned so much more than could be 
verbalized, but in this he had been blindsided. Why would he be so 
fragile in the Temple? He hadn't been able to link with his people 
while Q had been there. 

They weren't his people any more, he reminded himself: at least not 
until he died again. 

Slowly he became aware of the sounds of the station: the heating duct 
popping under the floor, air rushing from a vent, the creaks and groans 
of the outer walls. For a few seconds the noises, faint as they were 
individually, threatened to overwhelm him. He took a deep breath and 
tried to relax. 

Once he could control the sudden inrush of sound, he took a moment to 
check himself. Everything seemed to be in order. He flexed every muscle 
without moving and discovered no artificial limbs, serious injuries, or 
obvious implants. He was in shape, strong and healthy. He was wearing 
something below the waist but wasn't sure what. He felt for his face, 
his hand moving slowly. No beard or moustache, but hair at his temples. 
He could feel something tugging uncomfortably on a few of the hairs at 
the back of his neck and near his waist at the back, and the skin on 
the back of his shoulders was slightly itchy. 

He looked at his fingers, smelled them. They didn't smell quite right. 
He didn't smell quite right, and neither did the room, but he couldn't 
place it. Musky, heady, dark, slightly artificial, it reminded him of 
nothing at all. He stared at his hand as he tried to remember what the 
fragrance could mean. 

Yellow on the third finger. A wedding ring. Another sound -- somebody 
breathing, somebody other than him. He became keenly aware that the 
other person wasn't Jennifer. Apprehension, fear if he were to be 
honest with himself, stopped him from turning over and looking at the 
sleeping figure beside him. He brought his hand closer to his face. His 
ring with Kasidy had been plain. This ring was etched. A diamond or 
square pattern, something geometric, difficult to see in the dark. 
Perhaps there was a different jeweler on the station... 

A knee brushed against his calf as a breath tickled the back of his 
neck. She was tall, possibly even taller than him. So he hadn't married 
Kasidy, hadn't given her a child. He was surprised that the grief he 
should have felt for the loss of his marriage and of his unborn child 
was nothing but a faint echo. Perhaps it was the 28 years he had spent 
away from them, or perhaps something in his own pagh, or soul, 
recognized that what had never existed couldn't be mourned. Perhaps 
there were children in this timeline who hadn't existed in the original 
one. 

He hadn't been involved with that many people, and he didn't know -- 
but of course: Jadzia Dax was a tall woman. A lovely, brilliant, 
glorious woman who wouldn't be dead if Dukat hadn't been possessed by 
the pah-wraiths. If he and Jennifer had divorced he likely would have 
moved on much faster than in his original timeline. If Jennifer had 
left him, if he had never met Kasidy, he could accept this. Oh yes. 

He had sometimes regretted the fact that he and Jadzia hadn't been 
closer in his original timeline, but had accepted it as one of those 
things that was never meant to be. When he had first met her he was far 
too consumed with grief for his wife and for Curzon to notice her as 
anything more than Dax; by the time he found himself coming alive again 
and seeing her as a woman she had found someone else. He put it out of 
his mind as any decent man would and had gone on, but once or twice he 
had wondered about what could have been. Now he would know. The idea 
brought a smile to his face. 

By then his eyes had adjusted to the low light. In the corner he could 
see his grandmother's antique bentwood chair, the one Father had sent 
him after Tyree, after they had learned about the Sarah prophet. In it 
lay a crumpled blue Starfleet science uniform. Two black shapes rested 
on the floor under the chair -- boots, probably. He didn't remember her 
being so untidy, but then again he hadn't spent a lot of time in her 
quarters either. Curzon had been an unholy mess at times. Strange to 
think about the old man in this way, but -- he wondered, did Jadzia's 
spots go all the way down? He should remember from that time in the 
mirror universe, but what a joy to think he would get to learn all over 
again. He could feel himself stirring at the thought of her. 

He brought his fingers to his nose again. Was that the scent of a Trill 
woman? He smiled again, considering that this new life might not be as 
bleak as he had feared, and turned in his bed to look at his beautiful 
new wife -- 

-- and found himself staring into the face of a sleeping Julian Bashir.

*****

Chapter 2

*****

//Oh my God oh my God oh my God I couldn't have tell me I couldn't have 
Prophets Saint-Expedite Mother Mary no// 

He found himself panicking, running into the bathroom, running into the 
shower still in his shorts, his hand accidentally hitting the controls. 
Hot water poured over him and he suddenly howled in pain as a thousand 
daggers plunged into his back. He reached up and smacked the water off. 

"Ben, what's wrong?" a voice came from behind him. "I heard you get up 
and -- what the hell is wrong with your back!? Stay right there, I'll 
get my kit!" He heard Bashir run into the next room, muttering, "That 
damned Nalas! He said the oil was perfectly safe. Did I trust him? Oh 
of course. 'Nerys puts it on her stretch marks.' Did I check it? Oh 
no." 

Ben pressed his face against the cool tile of the shower trying not to 
faint. This could not be happening. He had nothing against Bashir, he 
was a perfectly competent doctor if he remembered correctly, but -- 

"Med kit found," he heard behind him as a tricorder whirred. "Good god 
hun, you're still in your...what the-" A finger tugged at his 
waistband; he willed himself to stand still. "The damned oil's turned 
into wax and glued the back of your shorts to your ass. No wonder you 
couldn't take them off. I'll replicate some solvent. But first things 
first." He heard Bashir request medications from the replicator; a few 
seconds later, he felt the cool rush of a hypospray against his neck 
and the pain and itching started to subside. "Steroidal anti-
inflammatory and an antidote. I'd give Nalas an earful if it weren't 
more my fault than his for not checking. Damned stuff has urushiol oil 
in it." Bashir laughed as Ben turned around to glare at him. Lord, the 
man was naked. "Thank God you fell asleep when you did." 

Thank God his blush didn't show. He tried to change the topic as he 
kept his eyes above the doctor's waist, noticing in passing that the 
man's wedding ring matched his own. At least he wasn't an adulterer. 
"Urushiol oil?" 

"The active ingredient in poison ivy. Can you imagine if we had -- I'm 
sorry, I shouldn't laugh--" 

"You're right," he said, trying to look ominous, which at that point 
was quite easy but unfortunately didn't seem to have any effect. 

"--but can you imagine having to explain to Colonel Kira that his 
massage oil had--" Bashir suddenly stopped laughing and glared at his 
blistered red palms. "Blast!" He stomped back to the replicator. 

Sisko turned back towards the other side of the shower and covered his 
face with his hands. What was he going to do? 

He took a deep breath and put his hands down. What he was going to do 
was handle this like a Starfleet officer, not like a blushing 
blithering baby. All right, then: what did he know? He was still 
station commander, or at least he still lived in the station 
commander's quarters. He was married to Julian Bashir, who called him 
'hun'. He was currently standing in the shower -- still the same tiny 
shower he had in the old timeline, too -- with a nasty rash on his back 
and pieces of wax sticking to his butt. If memory served him right, 
this 'Nalas' was probably Li Nalas, a "Hero of the Resistance" who had 
been killed in his timeline. Here, though, he and Kira Nerys were alive 
and apparently both living on the station. Strange that Bashir had 
called the Colonel a "he". He should review the station personnel 
roster before he awoke the dead or said or did something foolish. For 
all he knew -- 

He gasped and jumped as something wet hit his shoulders. "Sorry, Ben, 
it's the solvent," Bashir said behind him. "I've added some 
polyhydrocortisone as well; that should help the itch. Feel better?" 
The doctor rubbed the warm gel into his shoulders. 

"It does, thanks," he replied as he reminded himself to act normally, 
or as normally as possible under the circumstances. Think up something 
good. "It's just - I had a horrible nightmare as well." 

The fingers moved down his back and under his waistband. "What was it?" 

"Um, I was, uh, being eaten alive by voles." Sounded good. 

"Mm. With this and after what Miles found night before last, I'm not 
surprised. In fact, I'm surprised Miles hasn't been in for dream 
suppressants. Amazing what voles can do to a corpse." His fingers were 
-- well, not clinical. Affectionate, but not overtly sexual. Husbandly. 
Just then Ben felt a kiss on his cheek. He steeled himself not to pull 
away. "You'll have to let that sit for two minutes. Use the sonics to 
remove as much as possible - that'll dislodge the peeled skin and the 
shorts too - then drop 'em and have a good hot water shower. I'll pull 
out a new pair for you." 

He hesitated for a second. He needed to get out of there, go someplace 
where he could think. Someplace neutral. His office would be a good 
place. "I'm not going to get any more sleep after that dream," he said 
as he turned around. "Could you pull out a uniform as well?" 

"You're going in?" Bashir gave him a playful look. "We're both up, 
Ben." 

Act casual, he told himself. Don't scream. "And I have a rash on my 
back, wax on my butt, and images of voles eating my kidneys running 
through my mind," he improvised. "The only thing I'm 'up' for is 
reading reports." 

Bashir rolled his eyes. "All right. Computer, private and confidential 
memo to Colonel Kira from Dr. Julian Sisko." 

He took my surname? Ben asked himself. Why the hell would he do that? 

"In response to your massage oil of the 23rd ult, I respectfully reply, 
GO TO HELL. Sincerely yours." 

Sisko laughed as was apparently expected and got a shake of the head 
from Bash - from Julian. "One minute more, then the sonics." He 
disappeared from the doorway. 

As he stared up at the shower controls, he shivered. What next? 

******

He realized when he arrived in Ops that he had no idea of his current 
access code. "Lieutenant - Harven, I was having problems signing on 
earlier. I don't know if it's the software or if I've forgotten my 
code." 

"Certainly, sir." The young Bolian switched terminals and entered data 
for a moment, swore under his breath once, then smiled faintly. 
"Computer, replace access code for Captain Benjamin Sisko. Confirm via 
voiceprint, retinal scan, and fingerprint." He moved aside. "Sir, if 
you'll just sit here, say your name, look at the blue dot, and put your 
right index finger on the red circle." 

He complied and a new code eventually flashed on the screen. "Thank 
you, Lieutenant. I'll be sure to change it as soon as I reach my own 
terminal." He returned to his office, logged in, and changed his code 
again. The lieutenant probably thought he was an idiot now, but that 
was hardly his biggest problem. 

The first thing he checked on was his family. "Computer, provide 
locations and occupations of Joseph Sisko, Jennifer Sisko, and Jake 
Sisko, relatives of Captain Benjamin Sisko." He was ashamed to realize 
that he had barely thought about his father until now. 

"Joseph Sisko resides in New Orleans, Louisiana, Earth, and is the 
proprietor of Sisko's Restaurant. Jennifer Bertram resides in 
Montpellier, France, Earth, and teaches Federation Standard at the 
University of Montpellier. Cadet Jake Sisko resides in San Francisco, 
California, Earth, and is a student at Starfleet Academy." 

Jake a Starfleet cadet and not a writer? No Anslem? His heart sank. 
"Provide location and occupation of a human female named Kasidy Yates." 

"There are 834 individuals with that designation in the Federation 
database. Please specify the individual." 

He spelled her full name and gave the computer her birthdate. 

"That individual is registered as the captain of the civilian freight 
transport Xhosa." 

Of course she was. "Specify the last five ports the Xhosa has docked 
at." 

"Andoria. Andoria. Andoria-" 

"Enough." Hm. Andoria was close to the Romulan Neutral Zone. Apparently 
Kasidy had found a lucrative market elsewhere. "Is Captain Yates 
married?" 

"Federation databases contain no personal information for this 
individual." 

He thought for a minute. "Locate parents of Dr. Julian Bash- of Dr. 
Julian Sisko." He wondered again why the doctor had changed his name. 

"Richard and Amsha Bashir are deceased. Cause of death: groundcar 
accident. Date and place of death: Stardate 46978.14, London, Britain, 
Earth." 

Oh God, Christmas Eve. He wondered if he was supposed to even know 
about the enhancements now. "Was Dr. Sisko ever considered as a model 
for the Emergency Medical Holographic program?" 

"Dr. Sisko was originally considered by Dr. Zimmerman for the EMH 
program. He was eliminated from contention on the advice of his 
commanding officer." 

Interesting. The advice itself must have been verbal because after 
looking for 15 minutes he couldn't find any letters to Dr. Zimmerman in 
his records. Unfortunately the nature of the advice would remain 
unknown since from what he could find he hadn't exactly been an epic 
diarist in this timeline either. He grabbed his baseball (at least he 
still had that) and-- 

He looked around his office again. No Buck Bokai card. 

He sighed and brought up the personnel roster on his monitor. 

* Station Commander, Captain Benjamin Sisko. 
* Bajoran Liaison Officer, Colonel Navarch Kira Nalas.
* Assistant Bajoran Liaison Officer, Major Kira Nerys, currently on 
pregnancy leave. 

Of course, he thought as he tossed the ball. He had forgotten that 
Bajoran men traditionally took their wives' family names. He wondered 
how Li and Kira persuaded the Bajoran government to go for two liaison 
officers. 

"Computer, who is the current Kai of Bajor?" 

"The current Kai of Bajor is Opaka Sulan." 

That might be the reason. Sisko smiled in anticipation of seeing Opaka 
again. 

* Chief of Station Security, Lt. Commander Michael Eddington. 

Damn. His face fell. 

* Head Science Officer, Lt. Commander Jadzia Dax.

Thank the Prophets she was alive! 

* Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Julian Sisko. 
* Chief of Station Operations, Master CPO Miles O'Brien. 
* Head of Station Intelligence, Lt. Commander Thras.

Why the hell had they stuck him with a head of station intelligence? He 
pulled up the relevant records. She was Andorian, forty-eight years of 
age. Numerous commendations. Now that was interesting: he had been the 
one to request an intelligence officer after the Admiralty had advised 
him that Elim Garak was the son of the head of the Obsidian Order. He 
hadn't given it much thought in his original timeline, given that Garak 
was both illegitimate and an exile and therefore virtually powerless. 
Thras's record mentioned that Garak had left Deep Space Nine about six 
months after she had arrived. He snorted; how nice of her to solve a 
problem he had never had. He wondered if Thras had done anything to 
curb Eddington or if DS9 was still the central delivery port for the 
Maquis. 

"Describe the current state of the Maquis." 

"The Maquis was disbanded after the return of the Demilitarized Zone to 
the Federation on Stardate 49124.0." 

Hmph. Eddington hadn't joined the Maquis in the original timeline until 
just after that date. If he had never been involved with them...no, he 
still didn't trust the bastard. "Display service record of Lieutenant-
Commander Eddington." Nothing out of the normal...a commendation for 
bravery for apprehending a Vulcan murderer...up for promotion in a few 
months...hm, unmarried. No mention of Rebecca Sullivan. Maybe they had 
never met in this timeline. 

That didn't explain how the Federation had got the DMZ back. "Computer, 
describe the circumstances behind the return of the DMZ to the 
Federation." 

"The Demilitarized Zone was returned unilaterally to the Federation by 
the Cardassian Empire on the direct order of Emperor Elim Garak Tain." 

EMPEROR GARAK?!? 

The baseball rolled to the corner of his office. 

******

Seventy minutes later he looked away from the Cardassian history text 
file he had been reading and gazed out the viewport towards the 
Celestial Temple. Funny how he could tell where home was even though it 
was invisib -- it wasn't home any more, he told himself again. Deep 
Space Nine is home. How the hell he had gotten himself into- 

He sighed and returned to the text. The idea of a Cardassian emperor 
made sense in theory; after all, it had always been referred to as the 
Empire. Society had just reverted to what had been the norm before the 
military had overthrown the old dynasty. 

The identity of the man sitting on the imperial throne amazed him, 
though. He would have thought that Garak's status as the illegitimate 
son of a torturer might have meant something. And it did, apparently. 
Elim Garak had learned one salient fact about Shakespeare from his 
lunches with the doctor: the Bard's brilliance had first blossomed 
under the benevolent rule of a despot who was for most of her early 
life herself considered the illegitimate daughter of a torturer. 

Brilliant, dissimulating, unpredictable Elizabeth I had grasped and 
held on to the English throne for 45 years despite the fact that her 
only claim to it was a single disputed clause in the last will and 
testament of her syphilitic and possibly insane father. Her reign 
changed England from a poverty-stricken, culturally backwards 
hinterland into a major world power and a cultural behemoth. 

Garak had followed her example as closely as he could. He first somehow 
talked his father into staging a coup and re-establishing the monarchy, 
an easier task than expected given the average Cardassian's 
exasperation with the series of coups and counter-coups that had torn 
the Empire apart. The nearly-bloodless overthrow of the Detapa Council 
and the Central Command was over in a matter of hours. As the entire 
former Imperial family had been slaughtered centuries earlier, and as 
Tain was himself of very high social standing, it was simplicity itself 
to suggest that he don the gold. Given Tain's health, the prejudices 
among Cardassians against illegitimate children, and the necessity of 
an heir, it became essential for the new Emperor to recognize his son. 
He did so immediately, marrying Garak's mother Mila and retroactively 
legitimizing him. A short period of empire-building followed; the 
cultural and many of the political exiles were recalled. Monies 
earmarked for military offensives were redirected towards defense and 
exploration. 

When the inevitable happened six Cardassian months later and Tain's 
already weak heart gave out under the pressures of Empire (or so the 
story went), Garak inherited the throne with the Empress Mother at his 
side and continued his father's benevolent rule and good works. One of 
the first of these under his own name was the return of the DMZ to the 
Federation. In the new Emperor's gracious words it was nothing more 
than a simple show of good faith to his well-beloved and trusty 
Federation neighbours, but the Federation regarded it in a somewhat 
different light; Sisko had been shocked to read that the common 
Starfleet term for the DMZ handover (as popularized by an Admiral 
Barron) was "Julian Bashir's Wedding Present." 

"Computer, where and when did the wedding of Benjamin Sisko and Julian 
Bashir take place?" 

"The wedding ceremony of Captain Benjamin Sisko and Dr. Julian Bashir 
was held on Deep Space Nine on Stardate 49125.2." 

No wonder Barron had called it that. The author of the text had 
mentioned in a footnote that Elizabeth I was thought to have done a 
similar thing for the Prince of Cleves with respect to an island in the 
North Sea. Sisko snorted; she probably called him well-beloved and 
trusty too. 

He wondered if the Cardassian people realized they were being ruled by 
a man consciously patterning himself after an ancient Human autocrat, 
or if they did know whether they would care. If the text he had read 
was accurate, Cardassian culture seemed to be flourishing as wildly as 
had Elizabethan England's, and its economy was responding in kind. 
Cardassia's inflation rate had decreased to less than 2% per annum and 
the Empire's gross domestic product was increasing at a rate of over 
1.5% per quarter. Trade had skyrocketed and the birth rate had finally 
begun to increase for the first time in over 100 years. 

He hadn't seen mention of any poems comparing Garak to the sun or the 
faerie queene yet; he suspected that'd come soon enough. Gloriana 
indeed. 

The Cardassian history text had also included details of what his 
barebones staff roster had only hinted at: the Federation was at war, 
but not in this area of space. The attack by the Romulan Star Empire on 
the Andorian settlements two years earlier had taken Starfleet's 
attention away from Cardassia and its unusual but increasingly stable 
and friendly government. Sisko remained at DS9 due to his position as 
Emissary and likely would for the balance of his career, but the real 
excitement in the quadrant had shifted to another sector. He didn't 
know if he minded. Then again, he didn't know if he would trust Garak 
as far as he could throw the station in truegrav, either. 

"Computer, time." 

"The time is 0438." 

He decided he'd better bone up on station business before the beginning 
of Alpha shift in an hour and a half. From what Bashir - Julian - had 
said, there had been a suspicious death on the station a few days 
earlier. Of course there would always be the usual civilian problems, 
and Prophets knew whether Dukat was still alive and hanging around 
being his normal Dukat ex machina. He wondered if he had ever found 
Ziyal. If not and if Dukat were dead, he could -- but no. Recovering 
Ziyal would be a deliberate change and could be one of the events Q had 
warned him against. "Computer, what is the last known location of Gul 
S.G. Dukat?" 

"Legate Senn Dukat is the captain of the Mila-class expedition ship 
Dakor." 

That man falls on his feet every time. "Has the Dakor ever docked at 
Deep Space Nine and is it scheduled to dock in the future?" 

"The Dakor departed Deep Space Nine eleven days, fourteen hours, eleven 
minutes ago. No estimated date of return has been filed." 

"What is the last known residence of -- child of Legate Dukat, given 
name Ziyal?" 

"The Lady-in-Waiting Ziyal resides at The Imperial Mansion, Dakura 
City, Cardassia Prime." 

Lady-in-Waiting? It started as a snicker. What the hell did the man 
think he was playing at? He was wiping the tears from his face a moment 
later, imagining Garak in a big ruffled collar and a hoop skirt, when 
his door chimed. 

"Come. Dax! Old man! I-" He tried to calm down. She was really alive! 

"I couldn't stop thinking about those keralium samples. I came in to 
check the results and saw your light on. So what are you cackling 
about?" 

He shook his head and willed himself not to grab her and spin her 
around the room. "Had a bad nightmare about those voles, so I came in 
early but I couldn't work. For some reason I decided to read up on the 
Emperor." 

Dax gave him a sympathetic look. "From one nightmare to another? God, 
what's he done now? Wasn't Minok Nor enough?" 

"I, um..." 

"Remember Barron?" She imitated the man. "Your Imperial Majesty, 
although I'm sure Dr. Sisko very much appreciates your most kind 
gesture, I'm unsure as to what a Starfleet physician would do with his 
own personal space station." She resumed her own voice. "Ben, I don't 
know what the hell you've got, but I hope you realize how lucky you 
are." 

"I do realize it, old man," he lied. Space station? "It's just that - 
when I was reading the history text I kept imagining Garak - have you 
ever seen that picture of Elizabeth I in the British National Portrait 
Gallery on Earth?" 

She reached over and squeezed his hand. ""He's getting to you, isn't 
he? Ben, forget about it. He doesn't even like to hear about him, you 
know that." 

He did now. "I know." He looked up at her, wildly improvising. "I 
haven't heard anything from Prime; no planets or DMZs or warships, not 
even a runabout. I was just wallowing, I suppose." 

"Well, there's three days left, so don't let your guard down." 

"What?" 

"Don't tell me you've forgotten!" 

"Well, no, I, uh-" Oh God, he knew he'd slip eventually. 

"Tell me you remembered his birthday!" 

Now this he had experience handling. "Of course I did! I thought it was 
four days from now, not three. I didn't sleep last night and got messed 
up." He looked up; she was staring at him with her arms crossed and one 
eyebrow raised. "Not buying that one, huh." 

"I've been a man for about 150 years longer than you have. And need I 
remind you that he's a man too?" 

"Damn." He'd better check if he'd bought anything. 

"You've got 72 hours, Ben. Wow him." She stood up, winked and left for 
Ops. 

He watched her leave, wondering for a moment what had happened to Ezri 
Tigan. 

He engaged the office security lock and went to use his private 
washroom. Had she been checking up on him? For all he knew, he could be 
a rebel in this timeline and Thras and Dax were investigating him. On 
the other hand, after last night maybe Kira Nalas had asked her to 
check that he wasn't planning on throwing the Bajoran out an airlock. 
It had already become crystal clear that he shouldn't make assumptions 
about his relationships with his staff based on what they were in the 
original timeline. 

He had been in the timeline for less than four hours and already he had 
a throbbing headache. 

As he washed, dried, and sanitized his hands he studied his reflection 
in the mirror. He was normally somewhat shy when it came to dating. He 
had been in a few short-term relationships before he had met Jennifer 
and he had gone out on dates once or twice on the station before Jake 
had introduced him to Kasidy, but he'd never looked at any subordinate 
officer (well, other than Jadzia) as anything other than a colleague. 
Specifically, he'd never looked at Julian Bashir as anything other than 
a colleague, and a mildly exasperating one at that. But here he was 
married to Julian, and from what little he had seen the marriage seemed 
normal. 

The Q's voice came back to him: 'One small change could cause more 
damage in the long run than you could ever expect.' It wasn't one small 
change for him -- it was more like a tectonic upheaval, to put it 
mildly -- but he would have to go along with it if he wanted to avoid 
the kind of situation Q had suggested was possible. It was just...it 
made no sense to him whatsoever. Marriage to one of the upper pylons 
seemed just as likely. For all he knew, Julian could be the one spying 
on him as a Section 31 plant. 

Nothing made a goddamn bit of sense. 

Hell. He had a space station to command and there was a war going on. 
There were more important things to worry about at the moment. He 
exited the restroom and returned to his desk to review the day's 
business.

******

Chapter 3 

****** 

"Murder, Commander?" 

Eddington's face was grim. "Although the autopsy was inconclusive as to 
the cause of death due to the amount of vole damage, Mr. Salo and I 
found evidence in level 4, section 14 of the Habitat Ring suggesting 
that a large amount of the victim's blood had been shed in that 
location approximately sixteen days ago. In addition, station services 
reports that a 15 centimetre long kitchen knife was recycled in a 
public replicator on level 4 on stardate 52872.2." 

Sisko frowned as he considered the evidence in front of him. A Human 
sex worker had also been attacked in the Habitat Ring only six weeks 
earlier; was this the beginning of a serial killer? "Was there any 
pathological evidence that this was a knife murder, Doctor?" He 
wondered what he was supposed to call the man. 

"None, but there wasn't much soft tissue remaining. The voles had 
destroyed virtually everything but the skeletal structure and the skin 
of the back, and there were no identifiable knife marks on either." 

Sisko shuddered. "Continue, Mr. Eddington." 

"Taking the information gained during the autopsy into consideration 
and based on the progress of the...nesting...in the remains, the doctor 
and I have estimated that the victim had been dead for approximately 
eleven days by the time she was found. Fifteen days prior to the 
discovery, a sex worker named Toreth Adain left Bajor for parts 
unknown. She was reported missing two days ago on Bajor by friends." He 
brought up a picture of a smiling young woman on the conference room 
viewscreen. Sisko pressed his fist to his mouth: a greater contrast to 
the crime scene holos he'd reviewed this morning couldn't have been 
imagined. "She does fit the general description of the remains, but she 
doesn't have DNA on file with the Bajoran authorities or any known 
relatives so we haven't been able to make a definite match yet." 

"She hadn't been arrested before?" O'Brien asked. 

"Prostitution isn't illegal on Bajor, Chief. She had a clean criminal 
record." Eddington darkened the screen. "The authorities in Hathon are 
in the process of collecting DNA from her personal effects. It'll be 
five or so days before they can process it; they're backlogged due to a 
labour dispute. Pursuant to your instructions, Captain, I've sent 
copies of our previous daily updates to the Deputy Superintendent of 
the Hathon Police Service. I'll include her in any future updates once 
there's a positive match." 

"Thank you. In the meantime: Colonel, go through our traffic with Bajor 
and find out if and or when Toreth Adain arrived on the station. I 
suspect that if she is our victim, she probably arrived under an 
assumed name." 

"Aye, Sir," Kira Nalas said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. He must 
have gotten that earful from Bashir. 

No, think of him as Julian, Sisko told himself. He hasn't used the name 
Bashir for almost four years. 

He turned to Jadzia. "Dax, we've had murders on the station before. If 
I recall correctly, we've even had bodies at large on the station for 
more than a few days, but I've never heard of the voles using remains 
to nest in. I'd like you and Julian to take a closer look at the body 
and see if the remains have been subjected to anything that would make 
them more attractive to voles." He returned to Eddington. "I assume 
your other inquiries are proceeding?" 

"There are 843 individuals who are known to have been on Deep Space 
Nine both when Mia Kendricks was attacked and at some point during the 
time frame in which this victim was murdered," Eddington said. "Of 
those, 236 are known to have criminal records--" 

"That many?" O'Brien interjected. 

"A remote space station is a good place to hide," Julian said quietly. 

Sisko suddenly felt a burning behind his temples. What was that buzzing 
sound? He glanced out the viewport towards the Celestial Temple. 

"--and 85 more might have criminal records, but we're not sure because 
we don't have a clue as to who they really are. I have my deputies 
conducting inquiries on station residents and the Bajoran authorities 
are handling matters planetside, but there are a lot of potential 
suspects that have just disappeared." 

"The Cardassian authorities are interrogating the crews of the Dakor 
and the Great Tain," Thras, the Andorian intelligence chief, said. 
"They've also identified two private freighters which may have been in 
the vicinity of Deep Space Nine and are attempting to locate them. 
Glinn Mardoc has promised us full co-operation." 

Dax turned to Thras. "If they can give us a general idea of where the 
ships might have been, I'll go through the sensor logs for those days 
and see whether they came within transporter range." 

"What a mess," Kira Nalas said. "I feel like sending Nerys down to 
Dakhur until we find the guy who did this." 

His eyes narrowed as the buzz turned into a hum of undecipherable 
voices. What were they trying to tell him? 

"It might not be a man," Julian pointed out. "One of the most vicious 
sex killers on 22nd century Earth was a woman." He turned to Kira 
Nalas. "Do you think she could fight someone off in her condition?" 

"Not in the least. She can't even see her feet right now, let alone 
kick somebody." 

Why wasn't anybody else paying attention to them? He had to do 
something, to get them to notice, to reach out -- 

"Colonel, I don't think the Major is the least bit in peril," Julian 
said as he gave Sisko a sidelong look. "However, we all defer to your 
judgment and hers. If you're that concerned, please, take a runabout 
and --" 

"They're calling me," Sisko interrupted. His voice was barely a 
whisper. "They have a message." 

The table went silent. 

Nalas spoke first. "I'll notify the Kai's office." 

"I'll get Dr. Riis to take over this afternoon," Julian said. "Miles, 
can you have a runabout ready for us in about thirty minutes?" 

"Consider it done." 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kira Nalas move to the terminal in 
the corner of the conference room and request a direct line to the 
office of the head of state as O'Brien left the room. 

But why were the Prophets calling him like this? 

******

"This had better be important. I'm missing Morn's monthly toenail 
fungus appointment." 

He looked over to see Julian grinning at him from the pilot's chair. 
"Forgive the unfortunate timing." He shut his eyes again as the murmurs 
became louder. 

"They're insistent today, aren't they?" 

Sisko had been surprised to see most of the station's residents 
plastered against the viewports on the Temple side -- until he 
remembered that he and his companion were the only ones allowed into 
the Celestial Temple, so its opening must be rare and special indeed. 

"I'm a bit foggy." That was an understatement. This hadn't happened in 
the old timeline, not like this. Never like this. They had never 
actually called him... 

"That's okay, hun; you always are when this happens." A medical 
tricorder whirred faintly over the cries and susurrations. "I think 
that's why the Prophets chose a physician. It just seems that you're a 
bit more upset than usual today." 

He tried to finish his thought. "How did you know? That you were..." 

"The Companion?" Julian finished his sentence. 

So he was. "How did you know? For yourself, I mean." 

"Well, one of the Prophets telling me was a clue. Another was when the 
Kai made that trip up from Bajor to order me to marry you. But more 
than that, I just knew." He sighed. "It must be almost impossible at 
times for the Bajorans to keep their faith knowing that their gods 
chose an alien to represent them. Imagine how humans would feel if a 
Cardassian were elected Pope or president of the Natio-" 

The Celestial Temple and Sisko's mind both suddenly blazed open. 

******

The voices were gone; he was abandoned, alone. He felt a hypospray at 
his neck. 

"Hey there, take it easy. Just something to stabilize your heartrate. 
How do you feel?" 

"Bett-" He took a sip from a glass of water that was suddenly pressed 
to his lips. "Better than before," he got out. "How long was I with 
them?" 

"Quite a long time. About three hours," Julian said, his voice 
sympathetic. "We'll dock in about thirty minutes -- I'm taking us in 
slowly. Every Bajoran on the station is going to know what the Prophets 
wanted, so try to rest before we get there." 

"Every Bajoran on the station is going to have to wait." 

"What is it?" 

He blinked his eyes open. "They've provided me with the location of an 
Orb." 

The navigation console beeped out a warning; Julian quickly returned to 
the pilot's seat to enter in a course correction. "Do the Cardassians 
have this one too?" 

So this isn't the first, Sisko thought. "Apparently so. It was removed 
from Bajor as a spoil of war at the beginning of the Occupation by some 
glinn who from what I saw apparently thought his wife would appreciate 
a new crystal centerpiece. Nobody in the government has a clue it's 
even on the planet." 

"Sounds like the kind of thing they'd be happy to give back. A public 
relations coup at no cost to them." 

"I'll speak with the Kai," Sisko said. "It's probably best that the 
negotiations go through her anyway." He couldn't tell Julian that the 
real reason the Prophets had revealed the location of the Orb of Time 
was to help him with the gaps in his knowledge of the current timeline. 
He also couldn't describe the utter joy that the meeting had brought 
them. 

From his perspective, he had been separated from them for only a few 
hours, but from their perspective it had been an interminably painful 
wait. The Prophets had been calling him to the Celestial Temple like 
this for seven years, vainly attempting to re-establish the mental 
connection he had shared with them for so long. They couldn't 
comprehend that the Benjamin Sisko who had arrived at Deep Space Nine 
with his wife and son wouldn't remember what would happen to him 35 
years later in another time stream. But today they had found him again. 
Today he was able to explain to them what had happened and why he 
hadn't been able to fully join with them previously. 

The station loomed in the distance; Julian suddenly laughed. "It really 
does look like a big grey spider, doesn't it? Can you imagine she turns 
three next month?" He shook his head. "Sometimes Ben, I just wish." 

He had no idea what the man was talking about. God, keeping up when he 
was 100% was bad enough. 

"It's just - I suppose I miss her. I miss playing with her and watching 
her run around and sometimes I just wish -- well, if wishes were 
horses, hm, hun?" 

"I suppose," Ben said, completely mystified. After a moment, he asked, 
"Did the Prophets say anything to you?" 

"One of them - the one that takes my shape - spoke with me. He said you 
were undergoing a great trial and that I 'was required to support the 
Sisko as he faced this challenge'. Is it about the Orb?" 

"Partly. I - we're going to have to go down to the planet surface for a 
while once the Orb arrives on Bajor and we can get some time off." He 
looked down at his hands. He couldn't tell him the truth, but he was 
worried the man would hear an outright lie. "But there's also something 
else, something I can't tell you about. I don't really know much about 
it myself-" but he stopped when a pair of large, long-fingered hands 
covered his. He looked up into Julian's face. 

"Ben, we're Starfleet officers. I wouldn't have become involved with 
you if I hadn't realized there'd be times you couldn't share everything 
with me. You're going to be involved in situations that I don't have 
security clearance for. It's part of the job there, and it's part of 
the job here. Don't worry about it." 

He nodded. "Thanks." For some reason he felt like a first-class heel. 

The docking alarm sounded. "Ready?" He nodded, and with a series of 
clicks and clangs the airlocks connected and opened and they were back 
on the station. He found himself being herded to his office amid the 
murmurs of an enormous number of station residents who apparently 
wanted to greet, touch, or be blessed by the Emissary. Behind him, he 
heard Julian saying something about the Emissary being fatigued and 
having to consult with the Navarch and the Kai and please make way for 
him and some such. Before he knew it he was in his office in front of 
his terminal staring at the face of a woman he had last seen years 
before, accepting her fate as one of thousands trapped by disease on a 
desolate planet in the Gamma Quadrant. 

"Emissary, do the Prophets give us joy or challenge on this day?" 

"Your Eminence," he replied, "They may have given us the directions to 
both." 

******

2503, the chrono said. 

How his father hated that word. 'It's a clock, Benjamin,' he could hear 
him say. 'Clock. It's a simpler word, more precise, easier to 
understand. Chrono is nothing but bullshit militaristic Starfleet 
jargon.' He smiled. No chronos or fresher rooms or cyclers for his dad. 
They were clocks, bathrooms, recycling stations. He had a point, 
especially in New Orleans with all the analog clocks still standing. 
There was that one right by the restaurant with a big brass bell that 
would ring out the hours day and night. Every time he visited home he'd 
spend the first night trying to get used to it. Father said it had 
survived the flooding in 2005, but Ben suspected somebody had built it 
a century or so later and painted in the 'water damage' to make it look 
more touristy. God knew how common that was. Humans preferred tales of 
mystery and of victory over adversity to boring reality. If the dull 
truth wasn't attractive, make up a good lie and nobody would question 
it. 

Perhaps that was why nobody had questioned him yet. He must have 
slipped up once or twice -- it'd have been impossible not to have -- 
but nobody, not even the man sleeping beside him, had mentioned a 
thing. Granted it had been a bizarre 23 hours, and granted that unlike 
his travels to the mirror universe he was the same person as the 
Benjamin Sisko who had existed before 0200 that morning, but still he 
would have thought it'd be obvious. Before the afternoon briefing he 
had come within seconds of asking Chief O'Brien about his wife and 
children. Only Li Nalas -- Kira Nalas, he corrected himself -- 
interrupting them had saved him from an enormous mistake. In this 
timeline, Miles O'Brien was divorced and only had one daughter, Molly, 
whom he hadn't seen in almost two years. 

Ben had been exhausted after his conference with the Kai, but after she 
finally had dismissed him he spent time reading his station logs and 
the senior officers' personnel records hoping to learn something more 
about his family and the people he worked with. One thing he had 
learned was that Kirayoshi O'Brien had never been born. The shuttle 
accident which in his timeline had forced Dr. Bashir to transplant the 
fetus from Professor O'Brien to Major Kira had somehow turned out 
differently. The loss had driven a wedge between the O'Briens; 
Professor O'Brien had left Deep Space Nine for Earth two years ago, 
taking Molly with her. 

Strangely, that crash was one of the few similarities between his 
original timeline and this one. The station logs had only confirmed 
what he had suspected: virtually all of the events of the last ten 
years differed from those in his original timeline. He hadn't been 
thrown back to the 21st century and been forced to impersonate Gabriel 
Bell, hadn't been drawn into the mirror universe to match wits with a 
mad Intendant, had never fought for the future of Bajor with (or even 
met, as far as he could tell from his quick scan of the logs) Winn 
Adami. His own service record showed that after he and his family had 
escaped the Saratoga he had taught tactics at Starfleet Academy for two 
years before being posted to Deep Space Nine as commander. He and 
Jennifer had separated about ten months after they had arrived on the 
station, but given the newsy letter that had arrived from her that 
evening it seemed as if their relationship was still very friendly. The 
logs also showed that Jake had stayed with him almost every summer 
since he and Jennifer had left the station, so apparently they were 
still close. He himself had been promoted to captain a full two years 
earlier than in his original timeline; perhaps the years teaching at 
the Academy had made the difference. 

There were of course no notes in the official logs as to why he and 
Jennifer had divorced. It would have been easier had he recorded more 
than a handful of personal logs over the years. He wasn't surprised; he 
had never been much of a diarist, and when he did get around to 
recording a log more often than not he ended up deleting it. It was 
just that leaving his personal reflections of the events around him 
seemed to him an invasion of his privacy by future generations. Future 
generations: he didn't trust his own superiors to go rooting through 
them. There was that one time with the Romulans, for instance. If they 
had ever known what had really happened, he'd have been court-
martialled and probably sentenced to life in prison. No matter that the 
Romulan entry into the war -- 

-- he sighed and rolled on his back. In the end it hadn't meant a damn 
thing. 

"Can't sleep?" Julian asked. 

"Just thinking about today," he lied. Q be damned: he wished he'd had 
the guts to sleep on the sofa. 

"What did the Kai have to say?" 

"She wasn't surprised that Cardassia had another orb, of course, but I 
think she was disappointed that they hadn't deliberately been keeping 
it back for some nefarious purpose." He felt a hand caress his chest 
and suppressed a tremor of panic. "But, as she said, the Prophets don't 
lie to the Emissary, so she contacted -- Cardassia-" 

"You mean the Emperor." Julian snuggled closer and rested his head on 
Ben's shoulder. 

"--and he'll be here tomorrow at 1400 hours with the Orb." 

He chuckled. "That was fast." 

"He has a state visit planned to Simar; we're on the way anyway. Garak 
wants good relations with Bajor, and as you said this is a cheap way to 
score a--" 

--and soft lips kissed him under his left ear, just where he loved to 
be kissed, as the hand that had been moving over his chest snuck under 
his waistband. "Let's save the galactic politics for tomorrow, hey?" 
Julian whispered in his ear before his mouth returned to the sensitive 
areas of his throat. 

-- oh Prophets yes, don't panic, just let him--so good--can't--and he 
turned and met the full lips with his own, sucked the tongue into his 
mouth, thrust his hardening erection into Julian's eager hand, ran his 
fingers down the man's long back, cupped his buttocks--ah yes-- 

"Infirmary to Dr. Sisko." 

"DAMN!" Julian sat up and reached for his comm badge. "What is it?" 

"Doctor, there's been an explosion aboard a Simaran civilian transport 
on its way to DS9. They're fifteen minutes away at maximum warp. Their 
duty officer is reporting 35 serious injuries, 23 minor injuries and 8 
deaths." 

"Understood. I'll be there in five minutes. Stand by." He jumped out of 
bed; Ben followed him, trying to catch his breath, handing him the 
uniform which had again found its way into the corner chair. He 
continued to give orders to the infirmary staff while dressing. "Call 
in all station medical personnel. Set up Cargo Bay 4 as a triage 
centre. Make sure Ops knows we'll need them to transport injured 
civilians between the ship, Cargo Bay 4, and the Infirmary on short 
notice. Find out what caused the explosion; issue radiation and/or 
hazmat suits if necessary." He looked at Ben. "Are there any Galaxy-
class starships in dock?" 

"The Excelsior's docked at upper pylon 2," Ben managed to say as he 
handed Julian his boots. 

"Infirmary, stand by. Dr. Sisko to duty physician, USS Excelsior, 
priority one message." 

The reply came thirty seconds later. "Warner, go ahead." 

"Dr. Warner, we have multiple major casualties incoming from a Simaran 
passenger-" The doors of their quarters closed behind him. 

Ben returned to the bedroom still panting. The change between the lover 
and the dedicated medical man couldn't have been more complete but was 
understandable and in fact highly commendable. But what the hell had 
happened to him? 

Was the overwhelming desire he had so unexpectedly felt simply a 
conditioned response learned by his body after years of intimacy, or 
had he actually been attracted to the man in his old timeline and 
repressed it? He supposed it didn't matter much at this point, but the 
fact that he had responded so eagerly to Julian's caresses had confused 
him to the point of senselessness. He had been lucky that the hail had 
been for Julian and not for him, since he wouldn't have been coherent 
enough to answer. 

He checked with Ops and confirmed that everything was under control, 
then crawled under the covers and tried to relax enough to get to 
sleep. His last thought before falling into an uneasy slumber was that 
he was either very fortunate or very unfortunate that he hadn't woken 
up that morning next to Morn. 

******

Chapter 4 

****** 

He was becoming more successful at fighting down the urge to laugh. His 
Imperial Majesty Emperor Elim Garak Tain I might have modelled himself 
after Elizabeth I in many ways, but his wardrobe was strictly Louis 
XIV. Lower heels, though. 

"My dear Captain Sisko, I do thank you for your hospitality in allowing 
us to meet with Kai Opaka on Deep Space Nine at such short notice. Of 
course, 26 hours ago none of us save the Prophets even knew that the 
Orb - of Time, you say?" 

"That's correct, your Imperial Majesty," Sisko replied. Good Lord, was 
that a wig? 

"The Orb of Time, then -- was in Cardassian hands, let alone in a 
plastiform box in a storage unit in Jindal City." He looked over the 
station's senior staff with an air of bored grandeur. "I see Starfleet 
has finally engaged the services of a decent tailor, Captain. The new 
dress uniforms are quite adequate." He smiled at Sisko's intelligence 
officer. "Commander Thras, how pleasant to see you." 

"Your Imperial Majesty." The Andorian's antennae quivered and turned 
slightly towards the Emperor. 

He returned to Sisko's side. "I'm sorry to see that the dear doctor was 
unavoidably detained, but that terrible accident -- a Simaran 
transport, wasn't it?" 

"Yes, a passenger carrier. He's been in surgery all night." 

The Emperor's heavy gold satin brocade robes rustled regally as Sisko 
escorted him and his sixteen attendants towards the reception area. 
"Such dedication to his duties. It's a very large part of what makes 
him who he is, and it's something we Cardassians understand. Since we 
believe the State must come before everything, we naturally respect an 
individual who puts any aspect of the State, including the physical 
well-being of its subjects, above his own petty concerns." Sisko 
detected a tiny hint of rancour in Garak's last few words. "The State 
cannot function without healthy subjects." 

"Naturally. I take it then you approve of Kai Opaka's edicts?" 

"The ones promoting an increase in the birth rate? Considering the 
losses her people suffered during that ridiculous Occupation, I think 
it quite sensible." He moved closer to Sisko as they walked. "And as 
you well know, I don't say that merely in the service of public 
relations either, Captain. Emperor Tain honestly had no idea. I will 
admit that it was the Order's fault in part that the corruption wasn't 
discovered at the time." He shook his head sadly. "The uridium could 
have come from one of any number of uninhabited systems. The State was 
weakened, thousands of its best men were sent to their deaths, and for 
what? So that a handful of legates and guls could enjoy beachfront 
houses, opulent numbers of mistresses, and stables of riding hounds. It 
is truly unfortunate that we didn't have more Senn Dukats back then." 

"Dukats?" Sisko blurted out as they neared the reception room. What 
the- 

"But one man can only do so much, especially in such a situation. Well, 
you know as well as I do what kind of a man he is. My mother has taken 
quite a liking to Ziyal and the little one. You must be - Ah, Captain, 
here we are." 

A totally mystified Sisko stepped aside and allowed Garak to enter the 
antechamber ahead of him. The Emperor took his place in front of the 
Kai, who was flanked by a sextet of vedeks. Kira Nalas stood to the 
vedeks' left in his capacity as Navarch while Sisko took his place at 
their right in his capacity as Emissary. Six legates, Damar among them, 
and six guls were lined up behind Garak; all wore the heavily ornate 
dress uniform whose design dated back to the old Empire. Four glinns in 
matching uniforms were guiding a large familiar-looking case containing 
the Orb through the chamber doors. The station's senior staff, 
including a very pregnant Kira Nerys, had followed the Emperor and 
Sisko through the corridors and were now lined up along the sides of 
the room. 

He took a moment to take a look around. According to the station 
records it had been Commander Thras's idea to turn part of the old 
uridium mining facilities into a reception complex. Her stated reasons 
to Starfleet were logical: the area was a security risk as it was, and 
the numerous meetings between the Federation, the Bajoran government 
and the then Cardassian military government on the subject of the 
Maquis required a larger area than could be otherwise found on Deep 
Space Nine outside of a holosuite. To the Kai, she had also pointed out 
that if there were any paghs of former Bajoran slaves still imprisoned 
in the mining facilities, removing the tools of their slavery and 
deaths and turning the area into a symbol of Bajoran self-determination 
would surely free them and allow them to join the Prophets. The 
facility was made up of a large reception room that could seat 500, two 
smaller rooms including the antechamber they were currently using, and 
a number of conference rooms and offices on the second level. It was an 
excellent use of the space; he wished he had thought of it in his 
previous timeline. 

"Your Eminence," Garak said with an elegant bow and a flourish of his 
robes, "thank you for allowing me the privilege of meeting with you on 
this occasion. On behalf of the Cardassian Empire and its people, I 
extend our sincere apologies for having removed this Tear of the 
Prophets from Bajor. I would ask that you accept the return of the Orb 
without conditions or reservations." 

Opaka inclined her head slightly, the force of her personality filling 
the room and making her simple robes appear more royal than Garak's 
ornate fur-edged brocades. "Your Imperial Majesty, since your accession 
and that of your father, the road to peace has been smoothed beyond our 
greatest expectations. This act of redemption has once again shown that 
the Cardassian Empire has the best interests of its own people and of 
the people of Bajor at heart. Bajor accepts the return of the Orb and 
thanks its Cardassian brethren for their understanding in returning it 
to its rightful home with such speed and respect." 

"Damar, Maran: bring the Orb forward." The legates snapped to 
attention, took the case from the glinns, and maneuvered the antigrav 
cart so that the Orb rested to Garak's right. 

The Kai looked apprehensively at the wooden and glass structure as the 
vedeks took charge of it. "It's in a very unusual box, Emperor. Is it 
Cardassian in design?" 

"Actually, Kai, it's an antique from ancient Earth. 19th century 
Japanese, if my state xenohistorian is correct. The Orb itself was 
found in amongst packing material. I didn't think it appropriate to 
return it as it was found, but I knew that whichever monastery it went 
to would either have a structure already prepared or would prefer to 
have one specially built. Perhaps once the Orb is settled in its new 
home, the case could find a new home on Deep Space Nine with the 
Emissary and his charming companion?" 

"Of course, Emperor," the Kai said, heading off what appeared to be 
startled looks from both the Starfleet contingent and the Emperor's own 
staff. "How gracious of you." 

"Not at all," Garak replied. "Although there are treasures which 
perhaps should belong to those who would appreciate them the most, I 
think we both can agree that items of cultural and religious 
significance should wherever possible belong to members of the society 
which created them." 

Sisko noticed Chief O'Brien flushing to the roots of his hair and gave 
him a quick stern look. "I understand you have a state visit planned 
this evening on Simar, your Imperial Majesty," he said politely to 
Garak. 

"Emissary, you are absolutely correct, and if I don't hurry I'm afraid 
the Simarans will be displeased. As you know, they are sticklers for 
punctuality, and after the dreadful disaster that befell their planet 
today I would not dream of causing them any further dismay. Your 
Eminence, my apologies for the extreme brevity of my visit. I do hope 
that one day it will be possible for the two of us to meet in more 
cordial surroundings, either on Cardassia or on Bajor." 

"Perhaps that day will come soon, Your Imperial Majesty. Your actions 
and those of Emperor Tain towards Bajor during the past four years have 
spoken to our peoples' hearts. I trust that one day you will be welcome 
on our home world." 

"I thank you for your kind words and for your optimism, and assure you 
that as long as I live you will always be welcome on ours. I bid you 
peace, Your Eminence." 

Garak bowed and he and Sisko left, followed by their respective staffs. 

******

"Pompous ass." 

"Chief O'Brien," Sisko said wearily, "I remind you that Garak is now a 
head of state." 

The Irishman rolled his eyes as he sat back in his chair in the 
conference room. "Then he's a royally pompous ass. 'Charming companion' 
my foot." 

The captain was about to say something when he caught Commander Thras 
out of the corner of his eye. Her antennae were plastered to the back 
of her head and her cheeks were flushed a dark teal. "Ladies and 
gentlemen," he continued, "although our meeting with the Emperor this 
afternoon was fascinating-" 

"...treasures which should belong to those who would appreciate them 
the most..." 

"That's enough, Chief." 

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." 

"As I was saying, although our meeting with the Emperor was 
fascinating, there are other events taking place on this station that 
require our attention." He nodded at Kira Nerys. "Major, thank you for 
returning to duty temporarily. We're a bit stretched with the Colonel 
taking charge of the Simaran ship; I appreciate your help. Commander 
Dax, Chief O'Brien, I understand you have updates on the explosion?" 

Dax brought up a graph on the viewscreen. "Simar has asked us to 
investigate the matter. Our preliminary studies show that the plasma 
leak was likely caused by a materials failure. Data from the ship's 
interior sensor logs show that..." 

Sisko kept one ear on the presentation while he contemplated what had 
happened that afternoon with Garak. The Emperor had been polite to a 
fault to everyone -- except him. He had been positively catty when they 
had been discussing Julian's dedication to duty, for instance, and his 
comment about the treasures made no sense at all. 

"...the warp plasma containment field was within normal tolerances. 
However, Lieutenant T'Para detected a crack in the left nacelle 
containment structure which appears to have propagated...." 

Then there had been the comment about Dukat. How could closing the 
wormhole make Garak and Dukat get along? 

"...and we're hoping to get an answer from the supplier within 24 
hours," O'Brien finished. 

"Thank you, Commander, Chief," Sisko replied. "I'll look forward to 
that report." He turned to Kira Nerys. "Major, I understand you have a 
report from the Infirmary?" 

She referred to her padd. "Simar is sending a hospital ship but it 
won't arrive here until 0500 tomorrow morning. The official casualty 
list as of 1500 hours is 51 deaths, 42 serious injuries, and 73 minor 
injuries. Most of the seriously injured are currently either in the 
Infirmary or in the holosickbay on the USS Excelsior." She shifted 
uncomfortably in her chair. "The Simarans are lucky the Excelsior was 
in dock." 

He frowned. "Those numbers are far worse than the original reports we 
received." 

"Apparently the bulk of the dead and injured were in the rear cabin," 
she replied. "The duty officer was himself seriously injured and didn't 
receive any reports of damage from that part of the ship until it was 
docked at Deep Space Nine. Incidentally, I sent Julian, Pauli Riis, and 
Sivok to their quarters about two hours ago to get some rest. Bajor's 
sent-" and she suddenly sneezed. "Excuse me. Bajor's sent up a team of 
nurses to cover until the Simaran hospital ship can evacuate the 
wounded. I've asked one of the doctors from the Excelsior, a Dr. 
Rurslak, to remain on call on Deep Space Nine for the next twelve 
hours." 

"Good idea. Some of our staff have been up for over 26 hours." 

"A little longer than that in some cases, from what I've heard," she 
said archly. "Something about poison ivy?" 

He raised an eyebrow at Nerys before turning his gaze to his security 
officer. "Mr. Eddington, any further developments in the murder 
investigation?" 

"Yes, sir. We've been able to positively identify the victim as Toreth 
Adain." 

"That was fast," Dax said. "I thought the Bajoran Investigation Bureau 
was backlogged." 

Eddington shrugged. "Apparently the authorities learned this morning 
that Ms. Toreth had an infant child." 

"Bloody hell," O'Brien muttered under his breath. "Poor thing." 

"The baby was in the hands of a professional caregiver. Apparently Ms. 
Toreth often left Bajor for seven to ten days at a time. The caregiver 
went to the police this morning because she hadn't heard from the 
mother in seventeen days. Hathon General Hospital was able to perform a 
quick blood match with the infant." 

"How old is the child?" Sisko asked. 

"Only twelve weeks," Eddington replied. "A little girl." 

The staff looked grim. "Find out who did this," Sisko said. "Nerys, if 
her friends don't want to give her a funeral..." 

"The Hathon police have already talked to them. Most of them are drug 
addicts and wireheads; they don't care much one way or the other. Vedek 
Ladam is more than willing to hold a service at the station temple. A 
few of the other sex workers are planning to perform the death chant. 
Leeta and I thought we'd go too." 

He nodded. It would be a fitting tribute to a young woman who had done 
her best to survive in a very difficult situation. Too many young 
orphaned Bajorans were illiterate, uneducated, and unemployable. Often 
sex work was the only thing they could do to earn a living wage. He was 
surprised to find Nerys so sympathetic towards the young men and women 
engaged in what Humans had once called 'the dismal trade' -- but of 
course in this timeline she likely didn't realize that her own mother 
had once been a comfort woman and one of Dukat's mistresses. 

He turned to the next point on the agenda. "We've just received word 
from Starfleet that the troop carrier Maharashtra..." 

****** 

God, what a long day. Cardassians, Simarans (he had barely heard of 
them before -- they had kept their distance in the old timeline), 
Ktarians, two troop transports on their way to the Romulan frontier, a 
number of personnel problems with the Bajoran (and, in some cases, 
Cardassian) staff who more or less ran the station, another Cardassian 
ship following Garak's, some admiral calling whining about something or 
other, and -- hell, he just didn't want to face coming home. 

Home, he thought again, as the doors closed behind him. Same Zulu 
masks, same wall hangings. He didn't recognize the painting on the far 
wall or, more interestingly, the school prize beside the spare bedroom 
door. He took a closer look. It had been awarded to Jacob Joséph Sisko 
from Lycée Lavoisier, Montpellier for excellence in Physique-Chemie. 
Below it there appeared to be a framed blank page - no, not blank; the 
sheet was signed James T. Kirk. Sisko had kept that souvenir in his 
office back - 

No, there is no more back, Ben. This is reality now. 

"Replicator's not working again," Julian called from the other room. "I 
tried to get dinner from it when I came home this afternoon and all it 
would give me was one of those horrid donair things. Then it spit flour 
or something white out at me. I put in a repair request for tomorrow 
morning." 

"Did you get anything to eat?" 

"Just a glass of water from the bathroom replicator before I took a 
nap." He came out of the bedroom yawning and stretching - and stark 
naked. 

Ben stared at him. "You're not wearing any clothes! What if I had 
brought somebody home with me?" 

He smirked. "At 2413? Ben, you know that if I heard you talking to 
somebody I'd have thrown something on before I walked out. I'm not an 
idiot." He sashayed up to Ben. 

Good Lord. Aesthetically, he had to admit that the man was gorgeous -- 
God, there should be a line-up halfway to Bajor for him -- but... "Um, 
well, I..." He backed up until his calves were touching the back of the 
sofa. 

"Ben, remember that horrible day? You told me that if I ever caught you 
acting like an old man I was supposed to tell you?" He put his hands on 
Ben's shoulders. "I'm telling you now. You're acting like." He kissed 
him on the forehead. "An old." He kissed him on the nose. "Man." He 
kissed him on the lips, hard. "Now stop it." He pushed Ben down into 
the corner of the sofa and straddled him. 

Part of him wanted to panic; part wanted to shove his way out and run 
out the door screaming; but part -- part just wanted to kiss Julian 
again. No, not just: oh God no, more than that. An involuntary groan 
escaped him as their bodies pressed together and their mouths met. His 
hands found Julian's buttocks almost of their own volition. So taut, 
round...oh God he loved a tight ass on a man... 

"I believe we have unfinished business from last night, my ancient 
one," Julian murmured in his ear. He squirmed in Ben's lap; their 
erections rubbed together through the fabric. "Maybe not so ancient, 
hm?" he purred. "You are, however, entirely too dressed." He sat up and 
unzipped Ben's jacket and turtleneck and pulled them off. 

Smooth skin touched as Julian leaned down to steal a kiss; Ben ran his 
hands through Julian's hair and across his shoulders, holding him down 
as he explored his mouth. Somehow his trousers became undone and they 
and his shorts were pushed down, down over his hips, over his straining 
erection, over his knees. Suddenly his feet were bare, then he was nude 
under Julian's sinewy body as the last of his clothing was removed. 

And oh the feeling of that body pressed into his...he let his hands 
explore from head to mid-thigh as Julian ground their hips and their 
cocks together. Such exquisite pleasure - he wasn't going to last long 
- 

"Oh baby - yes - don't stop please" he moaned, grabbing Julian's ass 
and rubbing himself harder, faster against the man before losing all 
semblance of conscious thought. Seconds later, the unbearable tension 
exploded and he cried out, falling over the abyss of pleasure and 
release. He barely felt Julian's fingers biting into his shoulders or 
heard his cry as he followed him. 

"God I needed that," Julian gasped into his ear after their heartrates 
returned to a semblance of normal. 

"Just, wow. Been a while." 

Julian snorted. "Two whole days." 

Twenty-eight years, he thought, as his hands ran over Julian's sweat-
drenched back and through his thick hair. And he wasn't sure if he had 
just made love to the man under false pretenses or if it was the other 
way around. Hell, did it really matter? Should he have even done this? 
He had let himself get carried away, and- 

Oh, what did it matter? It had felt glorious to hold somebody and to 
make love, even if it had been a little informal. 

He looked down at the sticky mess they had just made. "We need a 
shower." 

Julian pushed himself up onto his elbows and kissed him. "You know, if 
you'd just put in for a full-size stall we could shower together. I 
know you're embarrassed by it, but honestly, Ben, everybody knows we 
have sex. We're an old married couple by now. It's not breaking news in 
Station Operations." 

It was only breaking news to him. "Okay, in honour of your birthday 
I'll put in a requisition. In the meantime, do you mind if I go first?" 
He touched Julian's nose with a finger. 

"Be my guest." Julian kissed him on the forehead, then hopped up and 
walked towards into the bedroom. "I'll get you a robe." 

Ben collected his uniform from the floor, threw it in the recycler, 
walked into the bathroom (he wondered why he always used his father's 
word), stepped into the shower, and let the silent ultrasonic waves 
wash over him. At least there was one constant in every universe he'd 
been in: sonics felt damned good. 

"By the way," he heard Julian say from the other room, "I got a letter 
from Jake. He wants to know if we've received any new holos from 
Cardassia. Have we?" 

Jeez. "Not recently. At least I don't think so." 

"Want me to go through your old letters and figure it out?" 

"No, that's okay. I'll do it." He wondered what class Jake needed the 
holos for - xenosociology or xenoarchaeology, perhaps? He'd go through 
his old letters and find out what type of holos he was looking for. He 
rinsed with 60 seconds of water. "Do you want me to leave the sonics 
on?" he asked after he shut the water off. 

"No." 

He took the towel Julian proffered and dried himself off before pulling 
on his robe. "Why don't you wear pyjamas?" 

"Because you keep the room too warm." Julian's voice was muffled as he 
closed the shower door behind him. "You grew up in New Orleans, I grew 
up in London. I'm used to a colder bedroom. We've been through this." 
He switched on the water. 

"Sorry." He folded the towel and left it on the dryer/warmer, returned 
to the main room and checked the stasis unit. Hm...two servings of what 
looked like leftover Chicken Pontalba, half a loaf of bread, salad, 
strawberries macerated in something, maybe Cointreau...he took 
everything out, set the chicken in the heating unit to warm up, put the 
bread, fruit, and salad on the table, and grabbed the necessary plates, 
forks, knives, and glasses. Damn I'm good, he thought. I haven't been 
in this timeline 48 hours and already I'm serving a dinner they'd 
charge 200 credits a plate for in the French Quarter. He ran back for a 
bottle of synthwine and uncorked it before removing the hot chicken 
from the unit and transferring it to the plates. 

Julian walked out of the bedroom in his robe, towelling his hair, and 
stopped staring at the table. "Ben, what are -- how the hell'd you do 
this?" 

He smirked. "There's a reason they pay me the big credits, you know." 

"You never cease to amaze me," he said with a brilliant smile as he sat 
down and broke off a chunk of bread. 

If you only knew, Ben thought. 

****** 

Chapter 5 

******

No wonder Dax had been impressed with him. 

Every time he thought he had a handle on what was going on in this 
timeline, something would jump in and give him a good shake and remind 
him how difficult his task really was. Until now, though, he had been 
able to handle the upheavals. First he had found himself human again, 
but he could handle that: he had been human before. Then he had found 
himself married, and to Julian Bashir of all people, but he supposed he 
could handle that: he had been married before, and Julian was a decent, 
moral person (with an incredible - well...). Then he had found himself 
in a timeline where Bajor and Cardassia were quickly becoming close 
allies, and he certainly could handle that: after all, it had been one 
of his major goals. Then he had found himself in a sector where the 
Emperor of Cardassia was for all intents and purposes an ancient Human 
autocrat, but he could handle that: it was no stranger than a timeline 
where Dukat was the Emissary of the pah-wraiths and glowed red. But 
this.... 

Julian had been called in early that morning to supervise the transfer 
of the injured to the Simaran hospital ship. Ben had been alone in 
their quarters, snooping around trying to figure out where he kept 
everything, when he had found the envelope. He had never seen real 
paper like that before: it was clearly handmade, as thick as cardboard 
but far more delicate, and a soft creamy white. Curious, he opened the 
envelope to find a signed original of the proclamation returning the 
DMZ to the Federation along with a letter, hand-written, in blocky 
Standard. 

     My dearest beloved Julian, 

    Politicians, diplomats, and historians will see this as an enormous 
step towards peace in the quadrant. I must confess that it is not 
wholly meant as such. It is in fact but a tiny gesture; a token of what 
you could have were you to be mine. The political rights to a few rogue 
planets are nothing as compared to what I could give you - entire solar 
systems, sectors of space, nebulae, colonies, worlds almost without 
number. A life without worries; a life of wealth and security and 
peace. 

    And yet I know that none of these things interest you. You would 
prefer to hear that I would give you my heart: but I cannot tell you 
that, for you already have possession of it. From the first day I met 
you, Julian Subatoi Bashir, my heart belonged to you and you alone, and 
it always will. How can I give you something you already own? 

    Please think about what you are planning to do. I have nothing 
against Sisko as a loyal state official or as a man, but I fear that as 
a religious icon he may be using you. I fear that his position as 
Emissary and his belief that you are this "Companion" may have led him 
to convince you that for the good of the Bajoran state you must be with 
him and not me. But I love you and have loved you for far longer than 
he has, and I love you with a greater fire than any human could ever 
know. And you are not Bajoran. Your duty is to the Federation, not to 
Bajor, and I strongly believe that your duty to the Federation would be 
better served on Cardassia. You must see this. 

    Julian, my beloved, I wish you to be by my side as my consort. I 
wish for our union to act as a bond between our peoples. I wish us to 
raise a family that will serve and know the love of both our states. 

    If at any time you find that Sisko mistreats or neglects you, know 
that as long as I draw breath you will be welcome here with open arms. 
I can dissolve your Bajoran "marriage", as you call it, with a flick of 
my pen, and give you in return the security of a true lifelong 
Cardassian bond that will benefit not just you and our children but the 
Cardassian state and the Federation. Together we will create a 
permanent alliance between our peoples. What greater service to the 
state could there be? 

    But most of all I love you, Julian; I always have and I always 
will. I shall wait for you. 

    Mine eyes desire only you. 

    Elim 

 That was what all those catty comments had been about: the Emperor of 
Cardassia, the most powerful individual in the sector and one of the 
most prominent men in the quadrant, was jealous. Of him. 

He supposed he should laugh, but it wasn't terribly funny. After all, 
Elim Garak was a known killer. Senator Vreenak had arguably been a 
legitimate target, but there had been others, civilians during the 
Occupation. Hundreds of them. Intelligence had reported that Garak had 
taken their lives without a second thought. He was certain that Garak 
knew of ways to end his life that would appear perfectly natural, even 
to a brilliant physician like Julian. A runabout accident, an 
infectious disease, even a blow from a fanatic like the deputy who had 
apparently murdered Vedek Bareil in this timeline would draw little 
attention, and especially not to a Cardassian Emperor sitting on his 
throne light-years away. 

So why was he still alive? Then again, why was he even in the situation 
in the first place? He stared at his reflection in the bedroom mirror, 
shook his head, and went to check his mail. He was about to sit down at 
the terminal when the door chimed. 

"Enter." 

"Morning, Captain," Chief O'Brien said, towing a antigrav cart behind 
him bearing a large piece of equipment. "I saw your replicator in the 
repair queue. Julian on duty already?" 

"The hospital ship arrived about an hour ago. He went to co-ordinate 
the transfer." He switched his terminal on. 

"No rest for the weary, eh, sir?" O'Brien said with a grin. "I've felt 
the same way these past few days. What happened last night?" 

He looked up, startled. "What do you mean?" 

"With the replicator. When I saw it in the queue I brought up the 
repair history. I noticed that Nog's been working on it for the past 
couple of years." 

"Oh. Julian said he tried to order something for dinner. First it gave 
him a donair, then it spit out what looked like flour." 

O'Brien looked at the mess on the floor and made a face. "A donair. I 
hate those things. Eddington's lunches will be the death of me. But 
this..." He scanned the floor with a tricorder. "This is actually 
calcium carbonate. You could make bread out of it. My mother used to." 
He frowned. "What Nog needs to learn, sir, is that there comes a time 
when you don't just replace parts. I'll swap out the entire replicator 
and be out of your hair as soon as I can." 

"Thank you, Chief. Any chance of a Starfleet replicator?" 

"I'm afraid not, sir. We can't really afford a Starfleet replicator 
right now. Besides, even if we could it has a different footprint and 
takes a different power supply. I'd have to rewire the entire wall, 
install a stepdown transformer, and replace this chunk of panelling." 

"Hm. I guess there's no chance of having a larger shower stall put in 
either?" 

"Now that might be possible, sir," O'Brien replied. "The Cardassians 
have two options for shower size and we have extras. You've got one of 
the smaller stalls, don't you? I'll take a look after I'm done with 
this." 

He sat down and went through his inbox. A memo from Admiral Barron 
setting a meeting to discuss the rescheduling of the Ilarian peace 
talks, whoever the Ilarians were...a survey on the new uniform design 
(he'd have something to say about that)...a reminder of the Station 
Services Christmas party next month...a message from General Receiving 
of a parcel received from Felix Nadarov for Benjamin Sisko containing 
two holoprograms (ah, the birthday present, most likely)...a memo from 
Admiral Barron's assistant rescheduling the meeting about rescheduling 
the Ilarian peace talks...a message from Cadet Jake Sisko containing a 
joke so old it probably predated messaging and possibly the human 
race...a further memo from Admiral Barron himself rescheduling the 
rescheduling of the rescheduling meeting (damned bureaucrats)...a memo 
from Dukat, of all people, regarding annual physical examination 
requirements for personnel aboard the Dakor...He clicked the terminal 
off and stood as O'Brien tightened the last bolt on the replicator 
assembly. 

"There we go, sir. Any more problems, just let us know." 

"Thank you, Chief. You didn't have to come out here yourself, though." 

O'Brien smiled and shrugged. "I needed the break from paperwork, and to 
be honest I was just getting in my staff's way. I also owed Julian a 
birthday present. Not quite the same thing as a space station or a 500-
year-old Japanese cabinet, but still." 

"It'll probably be appreciated more." He frowned at a brown stuffed 
bear sitting on one of the top shelves as O'Brien went into the 
bathroom to check the shower. "What are we going to do with an antique 
like that? I suppose there's a museum on Earth that will want it." 

"They'll probably send out their own ship for it. Something that old 
and in that shape and especially from that part of the world..." He 
exited the bathroom. "I don't think there'll be any problem with the 
stall, sir. You'll lose some room in the spare closet." 

"That's fine." 

He nodded. "I'll schedule it for later this morning. It shouldn't take 
them more than an hour or so." He paused. "Captain, by the way, we were 
thinking of taking Julian out to Quark's for an early birthday party 
tonight. Would that be a problem?" 

"No, not at all." He thought for a second. "You and who?" 

"Oh, just the regular gang; me, Mike, Nog, Rom, Morn, you know. Morn 
won't shut up about it. I thought I'd check with you in case you had 
something planned. Anyway, I should get going. Good morning, sir." 

"Good morning, Chief, and thank you." 

Curiosity got the best of him as he attached his comm badge to his 
jacket. "Computer, who is the current Ferengi Grand Negus?" 

"The current Grand Negus is Ishka." 

He shook his head and chuckled as he left for his office. What next. 

******

He was reading recent correspondence between his son and him when his 
office door chimed. "Enter." 

Rom entered. "Captain, I have those, um, figures you asked for." 

He had no idea what the man was talking about, but he raised a hand to 
take the padd with an air of authority. "Certainly. I'm in the middle 
of something right now. I'll get back to you tomorrow." 

"Actually, Captain, the Prelor docks in two hours, and Gul Selos wanted 
an answer when he, uh, returned." 

"Ah, then I'll look at them now." 

What would he and Selos be doing that would need a Ferengi middleman? 
Trade, he supposed. O'Brien had said something about the station not 
being able to afford a Starfleet replicator. His tricorder had been 
Cardassian too. Sisko had noticed that Deep Space Nine seemed to be in 
excellent repair despite the station budget being one-tenth of what it 
had been in his original timeline. It was possible that he was trading 
with the Cardassians, and possibly with others, to supplement the 
station budget. 

He scanned the numbers. Medical services (annual physicals) rendered by 
Deep Space Nine, medical supplies from Cardassia Prime, terbilide from 
Derna, dilithium from Cardassia XI...17% goods and services tax... 

He looked up at the son of the Grand Negus. Goods and services tax my 
ass, he thought. 

"That's a rather significant tax rate." He scratched his cheek with a 
finger, wishing he had a beard to stroke. "To whom exactly does that 
go?" 

"Um, to the Cardassian Customs and Revenue Agency," Rom said, his voice 
somewhat unsteady. 

He raised an eyebrow. "Computer, what is the goods and services tax 
rate on Cardassia?" 

"The Cardassian Empire's goods and services tax rate is 3.5% and is 
payable on all items except food, medical services and supplies, and 
infant and child clothing." 

"Rom," he said, returning the padd, "Gul Selos would have caught that 
in a second. Don't make foolish mistakes like inflating the amount of 
well-known taxes or remitting them on exempt items. Adjust the numbers 
and get me the final figures before the Prelor docks." 

"Um, aye, sir." An abashed Rom bowed and left. 

Wonderful, Sisko thought, I'm a pirate. He wondered what Rom's title 
was. Chief of Acquisitions? He suddenly laughed; Rom was smarter than 
that. He inflated the tax knowing Sisko would catch it and his more 
subtle graft would get through. Obviously he wasn't a very good pirate. 

He returned to his last letter to his son. He had expressed his pride 
at his son's fourth-place finish at the end of the winter semester. Who 
wouldn't be proud, Sisko thought. First in history, first in 
xenosociology, second in biochemistry, third in astrometrics; Jake was 
doing very well at the Academy. If he kept up the pace he would be on 
the way to a solid career with Starfleet. His letter had also passed on 
information about some new virus Julian had discovered, a bit of gossip 
about Kira's pregnancy, a humorous story about Dukat (why would Jake 
care about him?), and an old family recipe for aubergine stew. The 
outgoing message showed that he had sent three holos with the original 
but he hadn't kept copies on his work terminal. The file names were 
unremarkable numerical gibberish. Probably something to do with Jake's 
xenosociology or history classes, he thought. 

"Infirmary to Captain Sisko." An unfamiliar Teutonic male voice broke 
in. 

"Sisko here." 

"Captain, Major Kira has just gone into labour. Julian wanted you to 
know that he won't be available for lunch." 

This must be Dr. Riis, he thought. "Wonderful news. Keep me informed." 

"Will do. Sivok out." 

Julian's Vulcan nurse calls him by his first name and speaks in 
colloquial English with a German accent? Good grief, every few minutes 
there's something new to know. He brought up Sivok's personnel record 
on his terminal. Vulcan - no, half-Vulcan, born in Hamburg, one mother 
a diplomat, the other a kindergarten teacher. He had bright red hair. 
His full name was Sivok Petersson, which was Scandinavian if Sisko 
remembered correctly. His wife's name was Agnetha Karlsson. She was a 
civilian and ran the station daycare. 

His door chimed. Would this morning -- hell, this timeline -- ever end? 
He clicked his terminal off and put on his competent Captain face. 
"Enter." 

Dax walked in. "Have you heard about Nerys?" 

"Sivok just commed me. Isn't she a bit early?" 

"A week or so, nothing unusual. Amazing, isn't it, that Bajoran women 
don't feel pain? I wish I could go through it for myself, but 
apparently some species just aren't compatible," she said with a sad 
sigh. "Which reminds me: we just got word that the Dakor is docking in 
about an hour. I take it that's what Rom was here about?" 

"No," he said, confused. The Dakor was..."Rom was here about the 
Prelor. Do you mean-" 

His door chimed again. "Enter." 

Rom scooted in with another padd. "Captain, I just heard that the Dakor 
is docking in an hour. I thought-" 

"Just give me the figures," he sighed. He pretended to study the padd. 
"No 17% goods and services tax this time?" he asked. Jadzia snickered. 

"No, sir." 

"No excessive price gouging? I let you have a little extra this morning 
with the Prelor, but the captain of the Dakor isn't going to be as 
accommodating. He'll beam you into space if you try those kind of 
shenanigans on him." 

"I know it." Rom looked over at Dax. 

"These look fine. Whatever you're skimming off is inconspicuous 
enough." He affixed his thumbprint. "Now, do you have the other padd?" 

"Right here." 

He looked through it, then thumbed it as well. "Good day, Mr. Rom." 

"Always a pleasure doing business, Captain." 

He shook his head as the Ferengi left. "The trick in dealing with 
Ferengi is not in figuring out how to prevent them from cheating you. 
You can't do that. The best you can do is to minimize your losses, and 
that's on a good day. I'm lucky if I catch one item out of twenty." 

Jadzia laughed. "They learn how to cheat, as you so aptly put it, at 
their mother's breast, and Rom learned from the best." 

"Someday I'll tell Leeta on him." 

She gave him a strange look. "What would his sister-in-law care about 
what he does?" 

Oh shit. "Well, the way Ferengi culture is changing, soon women will be 
running everything, including their extended families," he improvised. 

Fortunately she laughed. "Leeta's too busy trying to run Quark. Talking 
about Quark's, since it sounds like you're free for lunch, why don't 
you meet up with us? 1300 sound good?" 

"Sounds fine with me," he said. He'd like to know who this non-
compatible "us" was. 

******

"I'll have quinoa tabbouleh with pita and tabaldis sauce on the side, 
and tomato juice," he told the waiter. 

Jadzia gave him a knowing smile. "You know, Tobin's wife was a doctor, 
and he ended up doing the same thing." 

"Hm?" 

"Eating healthy even when she wasn't looking." 

Sisko frowned at her. "I'll have you know I used to have this all the 
time when I was in the Academy. Used to annoy the hell out of my 
roommate. He said it stunk up our quarters." 

"I'll bet it did," she said. "Tabaldis sauce?" 

"You're the one who ordered anchovies on your taspar eggs. And a black 
hole." 

Their meals were served. "I thought we were meeting-" he said vaguely 
as he started on his lunch. 

"He'll be late. So, what are you getting Julian for his birthday? I saw 
the incoming shipping list this morning." 

He swallowed a bite of tabbouleh. "If I tell you, old man, everyone on 
the station will know by 1800." 

"Ben, I promise. Did you get him that holoprogram we were talking 
about? The Vegas one with the singer?" 

"If you already know, why are you asking?" Vic Fontaine? In this 
timeline as well? He hadn't picked up the parcel to make sure yet. 

"Because it's the last thing Julian expects, that's why. He's been 
noodling around playing with the idea for ages. It's the only thing 
that's kept him from boredom over the past few years, with all the 
Cardassian physicals and routine work he's been doing. Well, not the 
only thing," she said with a sparkle in her eye, "but you see what I 
mean. You know, what we really need in this sector is a good war." She 
suddenly smiled, raised her hand, and waved. 

He looked behind him, but he couldn't see who she was waving at in the 
crush of bodies that had suddenly entered Quark's. "No, Dax, actually I 
don't think we do. I'd rather do without-" 

He froze as a chillingly familiar voice suddenly said, "Jadzia, my 
dear, you look lovely today," and Dax raised her hand and pressed her 
palm into the outstretched hand of a smiling Legate Senn Dukat. 

No. This is not happening, Sisko thought, as he tried desperately not 
to hyperventilate. This can't be. This just can't be. 

Dukat turned and grinned - grinned! - at him. "Ben, I've brought a gift 
for you and Jake from Ziyal. New holos." He held the padd out to him. 

'Ben'?!? "Thank you," he said, taking the padd automatically, before 
looking at the first holo: a smiling Ziyal holding a little girl in her 
arms. A pretty girl about three years of age with curly black hair, tan 
skin, Bajoran nose ridges, Jake's eyes, Jennifer's mouth... 

"So are you bringing them here for her birthday?" he heard Jadzia ask. 
He couldn't move. 

"Ziyal wants to come. I know Jake can't get away from the Academy, but 
I'm sure Ben and Julian would love to see Miali..." 

"Oh no..." Sisko barely reached a stall in Quark's fresher room before 
violently ejecting the contents of his stomach. "Gods no, Prophets no, 
anything but this, anything but this....no, no, no..." he moaned 
quietly to himself, shaking, collapsing into a stall... 

******

Chapter 6 

******

"He's awake, Doctor." 

Sisko opened his eyes to see a young Bajoran woman in a nurse's uniform 
hovering over him with a medical tricorder. "His cortisol and ACTH 
levels are only slightly higher than normal, but his epinephrine levels 
are off the chart," she said. 

A blond man with a bowl haircut came into view. "Hm. No obvious 
adrenopathy." He hit his comm badge. "Riis to Dr. Sisko. Your, um, 
patient is conscious." 

"Thank you." 

A moment later a door opened and Julian came into the room. "Thank you, 
Pauli, Jabara, I'll handle it from here. Perhaps you'd like to assist 
Dr. Magaran with Nerys?" The nurse handed him the tricorder and they 
left through the same door. 

Sisko tried to rise up on his elbows, but found himself too dizzy to 
lift his head off the pillows. "What happened?" 

"You've put me in the position of the shoemaker whose children go 
barefoot, that's what's happened," Julian said with an exasperated 
frown. "Your stress hormone levels are through the roof. Anybody else 
would have been in here days ago." He looked down at the tricorder and 
frowned. "Let me just run these tests on the main biosensors; these 
results-" He crossed to the head of the biobed and pressed buttons 
above Sisko's head. 

"I remember Jadzia - we were eating in Quark's, and Dukat came over..." 

"Mm? Were they discussing the engagement party again? She gets so anal-
retent- Ben! Calm down! Try to breathe normally!" 

He willed himself to relax. "My chest hurts." 

"That's from the release of epinephrine. Relax." Julian squeezed his 
hand. "Your body is releasing enormous amounts of adrenal hormones. 
This is normally stress-related but there is a possibility of this 
being an adrenal or neurological problem. Either way, we can treat it. 
I'm going to run some tests just to make sure. All right? Just close 
your eyes and lie back." 

He nodded. Dukat and Jadzia - okay, think of something else. Think of 
Jake being fourth in his class at Starfleet Academy. It's not so 
strange: Sir Philip Sidney was a military man. Think of Ishka being the 
Grand Negus of Ferenginar. It's not so strange: Indira Gandhi was the 
Prime Minister of India only twenty years after sati was banned on 
Earth. Think of - think of being married to Julian. It's not so 
strange: he seems like an okay guy in this timeline, and maybe you 
don't love him, but apparently your body doesn't know that, and parts 
of your mind don't seem to know it either, and -- oh damn. 

I thought I had been doing all right, he told himself. I thought I had 
been adjusting. I thought I was doing well. But no: I can't accept 
Dukat and Jadzia. I can't accept Jake being the father of Dukat's 
granddaughter. Dukat murdered Jadzia. Dukat is an egomaniacal bastard. 
Dukat murdered Jadzia. That's not a small change. I have to tell her. I 
can't tell her. Hell. 

"You check out fine," Julian eventually said. "Triglycerides are a 
little high so we'll keep an eye on that, but otherwise no 
abnormalities other than the hormone levels." He readied a hypospray 
and pressed it into Sisko's neck. "This will prevent the epinephrine 
rushes. It should also reduce the levels of ACTH and cortisol somewhat. 
Can you sit up now?" 

He pushed himself up. "Any idea what's causing this?" 

"I should be the one asking you. It was the meeting with the Prophets, 
wasn't it?" 

He nodded, falsely. 

"Ever since you were in there you've been distant, a bit detached." 
Julian took his hand. "Sometimes you just zone out. You don't seem to 
recognize people at times, and at others you appear to be suffering 
from both short and long-term memory loss. You also had a few 
nightmares last night." 

"I didn't notice." 

He shrugged. "Unless you awaken within a few minutes after the dream 
ends, you won't remember them. Although I'm not sure what would prompt 
you to have a romantic dream about the head of Starfleet Protocol." 

Sisko stared at him. "The head of..." 

"You were yelling his name out and telling him you loved him and how 
sorry you were about something." Julian batted his lashes. "I didn't 
know you cared that much about Admiral Cassidy." 

The room spun again. "I -" 

"Don't worry, Ben," Julian laughed. "I'm not jealous of a 84-year-old 
admiral! But it proves my point -- Ben, hold on, I'll get you another 
dose of the anoxynephrine." He rushed back to the replicator. 

He lay back on the bed again and covered his face with his hands. The 
hypospray barely registered as he realized the enormity of his offence 
last night: he had made love to his husband but in some part of his 
mind he had cheated on his wife. 

Sure, he chided himself: go to the other end of the quadrant, find 
Kasidy Yates, and tell her that. Tell her she's your wife. Tell her you 
love her. She doesn't know you from Adam. In this time stream you are 
nothing to her and she is nothing to you. She'd laugh in your face. 
She'd kick you in the nuts. She'd be right. She's not your wife. 

He looked up at the ceiling as his heartrate returned to normal. The 
Prophets were right, he admitted to himself; I'm not handling any of 
this very well at all. I need help. 

"I have to visit the Orb," he said weakly. 

"If you think that's necessary, then yes, we'll do that. But there's 
something else you're doing first, which is taking time off. I'm 
relieving you from duty for the next 18 hours." 

"What?" 

Julian frowned down at him. "You're not fit for duty as it is, and the 
anoxynephrine is slightly psychoactive so I'd have to relieve you 
anyway. At any rate, Dax owes you one. After all, it was your lunch 
with her that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I don't know 
what she said, but-" 

"It wasn't her fault," he protested. 

"-nevertheless, you're relieved from duty. I want you to go straight 
home. You should be fine, but I want you to check in with me in about 
an hour. All right?" 

He nodded as he raised himself to a sitting position, noticing that the 
dizziness was gone. 

"If you develop a bad headache or any further dizziness, comm me 
immediately. If you can't sleep, do something boring. Read the 
Prophecies." 

"How very respectful." 

He smirked. "Just repeating what you said last week when you were 
trying to interpret Zocal's final book." He thought for a second, then 
looked back at the delivery room door. "In fact, why don't I walk you 
back?" 

"I'll be fine," he said. "Stay with Nerys. I'll-" 

"Ben," Julian interrupted, "she's not going to want me in there if I'm 
worried about you." He helped him off the bed. "She'll know if I'm not 
at ease and I won't be of any use to her. Now come on, let's go." 

******

He lay ensconced in bed, wrapped up in flannel pyjamas and layers of 
blankets, a tray covered in padds beside him. He hadn't noticed until 
now that this bed was a good 30 centimetres longer than his old bed had 
been. Then again, Julian was a good 15 centimetres taller than he was. 
"I could at least go through some reports," he called to the front 
room. 

"No," the Voice of Final Authority responded. "There's Horran's and 
Zocal's Prophecies, a padd of crosswords-" 

He groaned. 

"-the last three years of Flavour magazine, and a few other things I 
found in the bedside table. You're not doing any work." Julian returned 
to the bedroom with a small tray on which two covered insulated cups 
were perched. He placed the tray on the side table. "Chamomile-ginger 
tea and beef broth, if you feel up to it. No solid food until tonight, 
and then just a little stewed fruit and dry toast." He leaned over and 
kissed Ben on the forehead. "I'll be home long before then. I love 
you." 

"You too," he replied, hoping Julian wouldn't notice the evasion. 
"Don't forget you're going out tonight with Miles." 

He stopped in the doorway. "Oh damn. I should cancel that." 

Ben shook his head. "They've been planning this for days. I'll comm you 
if I need anything." He didn't need to be mothered, for heaven's sake. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely. Now go." 

Alone, he flipped through the padds. Why would Julian leave him a 
crossword padd; didn't he know he hated the things? His dad was the 
puzzle freak in the family. Always bringing padds along on trips and 
bugging him for a seven-letter word for 'approval' or some such thing. 
Flavour magazine, on the other hand: he always liked that one. The July 
1, 2373 issue contained some interesting articles...maple sugar 
tarts...tamarind fries...cod cakes...ginger beef...tandoori masala 
spring lamb chops....his stomach rebelled. Maybe he'd pass on the food 
magazines for now, he thought as he took a quick sip of the herbal tea. 

He picked up the padd containing Horran's Prophecies. Horran had been a 
mystic at the temple at Lintara; his prophecies were simple and 
straightforward, perhaps deceptively so. The Third Prophecy read, "The 
sky will betray us: white men and black rain will flood the land." The 
vedeks saw this as a premonition of the arrival of the Cardassians, who 
had used chemical weapons in their first attacks on the main cities of 
Dakhur Province. Sisko preferred the Fourteenth Prophecy which read, 
"Her eyes will be as diamonds and her heart as iron; she will not allow 
them to lead the people to harm." He had always wondered if Horran had 
seen Opaka in that Orb experience. 

Another favourite of his was the final prophecy in the book, the 
Twenty-third. "Her body will carry the sweetest burden: the child of 
the Emissary and-" It was unfinished; the learned vedeks believed 
Horran had either died during composition or hadn't bothered to 
complete it for one reason or other. It had given him joy to think that 
Kasidy had been mentioned in the Prophecies. He scrolled through the 
padd to read it -- 

-- but it was complete. 

"Her body will carry the sweetest burden: the child of the Emissary and 
the Companion." 

He dropped the padd to the bedcovers and stared at the wall. He didn't 
hyperventilate -- there were too many drugs in his system for that 
still -- but he blinked a few times. 

He picked up the padd again and re-read the prophecy, noticing that it 
was no longer the final one. He scrolled through some of the remainder. 

"The Emissary will open up the skies." 

"One will return who will stand for the people." 

"A holy man will spill his blood to end the divisions." 

"The pagh of the Companion is as the jewels of the heart of the 
Emissary. The Companion will stand by the Emissary in life." 

"The infants will suffer. The parents will not grieve." 

"He will ascend to the air on golden wings. The people will rejoice. 
They will shower him with white. Bajor will be safe. One will kneel." 

"The men will dance. There will be much merriment. The women will bring 
chalices of spring wine. The Emissary and the Companion will join hands 
and smile on the children." 

"B'hala will awaken." 

"She will join the enemies with a burden of love." 

"The Emissary will free the Prophets from their captivity." 

"Two devils will be cast out of the flames. A girl will face them. Her 
flesh will be wanting, but her pagh will be victorious." 

"He will return." 

And the final prophecy: "If the Emissary chooses wrongly, Bajor will be 
dark for a thousand years. He must seek his pagh." 

What did they mean, he wondered. Some, such as the prophecy of B'hala 
and the freeing of the Prophets, seemed to portend events that he 
remembered from his timeline, but the others -- he couldn't make heads 
or tails of them. He put the padd away and lay back on the pillows. 
Perhaps "he will return" pertained to his current dilemma. 

The final prophecy concerned him most of all, though. Horran's 
prophecies tended to be more linear than those of other writers, which 
meant that he likely hadn't made the choice he referred to yet. Would 
he be forced to make the decision in the near future, or was it 
something that would happen in his old age? What was it about? 

He wrapped the blankets around his feet. The drug Julian had given him 
must have affected his internal temperature controls. 

That reminded him...he reached over and pressed his comm badge. "Sisko 
to Dax." 

"Ben, you're not supposed to be working." 

"I'm not. Could you ask somebody to stop by Receiving and pick up 
Julian's birthday present? I didn't get around to it and he's got me on 
bed rest." 

"Is that what he calls it?" 

He groaned. "Old man..." 

She laughed. "Relax, I'm alone in your office. I'll have someone drop 
it off in a few minutes. I'll send along those holos too. Are you 
feeling better?" 

"Much." He swallowed his pride. "I'm sorry about what happened. Would 
you apologize to - would you apologize for me?" He couldn't spit out 
the bastard's name no matter how much he tried. 

"I already did. Don't worry about it - he's highly sympathetic. Senn 
was never that much of a fan of Quark's cooking anyway. Dax out." 

That woman would be the death of him some day. Dating Dukat...engaged 
to Dukat...what was she thinking? 

He lay back, suddenly exhausted. As he drifted off to sleep, it 
suddenly hit him: Jake was a father. He was a grandfather. 

Hell. 

******

"How was the party?" He sat up in bed. "Lights, ten percent." 

"I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep." 

"I couldn't sleep," Ben said. "How was it?" 

Julian crawled under the blankets. "I'm starting to think that I'm the 
old man around this place. The party's still going on without me, but I 
was worried about you so I begged off early. How are you?" 

"Confused. Dizzy. I can see why you relieved me from duty. Jabara came 
by and gave me another hypo about an hour ago, so I was just lying here 
waiting for you to come home. She told me about Nerys." 

"I wanted to be the one to tell you," he said with a pout. "Did Jabara 
tell you that he was over four kilos? Nalas was crying, it was..." He 
sighed. "You were waiting for me? You should have commed me; I would 
have come home earlier." 

"No, it's just -- I contacted the monastery earlier, by the way. They 
can put us up tomorrow if we want to go." He sighed and stared up at 
the ceiling. 

"Come here." 

"Hm?" He looked over at Julian; he was holding his arms out. 

"Come here. You're still upset, aren't you?" 

Ben looked into Julian's beautiful eyes. 

He had always been the one to do the holding, the caring. He was the 
father, the husband, the captain, the son, the brother; the alpha male 
who kept a stiff upper lip and never once, not even in his own bed, 
allowed anyone to hold him, no matter how badly he needed it at times. 

Things were different here, and oh how he needed them to be different. 

He allowed Julian to pull him into his arms. "It's bad," he said 
against the younger man's shoulder. "It's so difficult right now." 

"I know, honey. Can you talk about it?" 

"I don't even know what to say. It's all so confusing - I don't even 
know the words-" 

"You don't need to. Just rest. Let me hold you." He felt lips press 
against his forehead. 

Enveloped in Julian's arms he didn't feel like the Emissary to the 
Prophets or a Starfleet captain. He didn't even feel like the all-
around badass he tried to pretend he was most of the time. He felt 
protected, as if somebody actually cared about him - just plain and 
simple Ben - enough to stop Starfleet and the Bajorans and this 
confusing, messed-up timeline and everybody and everything else from 
getting to him for just a few hours. 

Somebody did, he supposed. It was a nice feeling. 

******

"What's the name of this monastery again?" Julian asked over his cup of 
Tarkelian tea. 

"Kerasha. It's on Nerel Island, up near the polar regions. Just here." 
Ben pointed at a spot on the map he had unfurled on the Replimat table. 
"The Cardassians left it alone for the most part. There's not much up 
there and the climate isn't terribly inviting, at least not from their 
point of view. The area is a lot like the Alaskan Panhandle; right now 
they're in the middle of the rainy season. Opaka was telling me that 
she used to send vedeks who were causing too much trouble up to Kerasha 
for safe-keeping during the Occupation." 

Julian laughed. "You know, if Bajor ever does decide to join the 
Federation, she'll be president within a week. Well, if my aunt lets 
her." He gave Ben a sardonic look. "Which reminds me; I received a 
subspace from her this morning when you were packing. She and 'Uncle 
Ali' send us their love." 

"Uncle Ali." He didn't even know before now that Julian had an aunt. 

"Mmm. Can you believe it. If I had been him, I'd have just given her a 
commission instead of -- Good morning, Jadzia." 

Ben removed the map quickly before she could drop her tray onto it. 
"Happy birthday, Julian," she all but snarled. 

"Thank-" 

"So I understand the two of you are taking off to a monastery on Bajor 
for -- medical reasons?" she continued. 

"I'm afraid so," Julian replied. "I'm reasonably certain that Ben's 
adrenogenic crisis yesterday was connected to his experience with the 
Prophets. He needs to commune with the Orb of Time." 

She narrowed her gaze. "All right. You're dragging him off on yet 
another Bajoran mystical journey right when Nerys is recovering from 
delivering a baby - a 4.35 kilogram baby, I remind you - leaving me in 
charge of the station for at least how long?" 

"We don't know. Ben thinks it could take up to ten days." 

"Okay. Ten days, and you don't even have a cogent scientific reason for 
your decision." 

"I feel my reasons are perfectly scientifically cogent." 

Ben stared at the two of them. "I am here, you know." 

They ignored him as Julian spoke again. "Ben's been suffering from 
moderate to severe clinical stress ever since he returned from the 
wormhole. As you well know, I had to remove him from duty yesterday. 
Although I can guess what might have brought on the crisis," he said, 
giving her a cold stare, "my best guess is that the stress originated 
in Ben's meeting with the Prophets. During that meeting he was advised 
to commune with the Orb. It's a reasonable supposition-" 

"But not a certainty," Dax interrupted. 

Julian frowned at her over his teacup. "No, not a certainty, but it's a 
reasonable supposition, and the best one we have, that communing with 
the Orb will resolve the symptoms. Remember, we've seen this before 
with B'hala and with Tyree. In each case, clinical symptoms of stress 
remained until the task was completed even though in those cases Ben 
didn't know beforehand how to complete either task at the time." 

She swallowed a bite of egg. "I hate this, you know. It goes against 
every instinct of mine as a scientist." 

"Just because you don't understand how something works doesn't mean it 
doesn't work," Julian replied. 

"I know." She stared at the two of them. "It's just - couldn't they 
have chosen a better time than this? It was quieter around here a month 
ago." 

Ben shook his head. This timeline hadn't even existed a month ago -- or 
had it? He hated temporal paradoxes. Maybe this was all a big 
hallucination- 

"And again," Julian said, "just because you don't understand why 
something takes place at a specific time doesn't mean it's a random 
occurrence. There may be solid practical reasons why this is occurring 
right now." 

She sighed. "When are you leaving?" 

"In about an hour. Pauli has things under control here and Dr. Magaran 
Atini from Bajor has agreed to act as his locum until we get back. 
Piotr Shevchenko and - what is that other marriage counsellor's name?" 
He thought for a second, then looked at Ben. "What was -- Ezri Tigan, 
that's right." He turned back to Dax. "They're coming in to meet with 
Lieutenant Singh and Ensign Kaur in three days' time. I hope they're 
able to help-" 

Ezri? Ben got up to get another cup of tea. There was no damn way he 
was letting that woman get within a metre of Julian. That cute little 
doe-eyed counsellor act wasn't going to work- 

He stood at the replicator for a second asking himself what the hell he 
was thinking. A week ago you wouldn't have cared if Julian Bashir was 
sleeping with the Dolman of Elaas, and now you're jealous? He retrieved 
his tea and walked back to the table. 

"-also expecting a shipment of medical supplies from Cardassia. Make 
sure Michael does a level 9 biocontainment sweep of them before he 
allows any members of the medical team into the cargo area." 

He looked at Julian. He thought of Julian holding him tenderly last 
night as he slept. He thought of Julian accompanying him into the 
Temple, accepting whatever the Prophets told him without question. He 
thought of Julian marrying him instead of the Emperor of Cardassia. He 
thought of Julian naked, gorgeous, aroused because of him... 

Damn right he was jealous. That Ezri had better be off his station by 
the time they returned or he'd find a way to kick her off. 

"Have they chosen a name yet?" he heard Dax ask. 

"Not that I've heard. I went home early last night, though." 

She sighed. "Well, if I'm going to be running a space station for the 
next week or two, I suppose I had better check in with Ops. Nice robes, 
by the way, Ben." She stood up and returned her plates to the recycler 
before leaving. 

"She took that well," he said. 

"We're both still breathing," Julian agreed. "By the way, those are 
nice robes. Are those the ones Opaka gave you last year?" 

"Mmm." He had found them in a drawer and supposed they were suitable 
for travelling to a monastery. "We should get going. The head vedek is 
126 years old and doesn't like late visitors. If we leave now, we'll 
get there before evening meal." 

"But it only takes an hour - that's right, I always forget about time 
zones. Somehow I always expect it to be the same time everywhere." 

"I know how you feel. It's like a temporal anomaly - disconcerting." He 
put down his cup. "Shall we go?" 

******

Chapter 7 

****** 

He knelt in front of the plain wooden cabinet and tried to quell the 
churning in his stomach. He would finally know...and for some reason 
that frightened him. The Prophets had told him that he wouldn't be able 
to access memories of events that took place before he arrived on Deep 
Space Nine and he wouldn't be able to change history during his Orb 
experiences, but still the fear of learning just how his life had 
evolved over the previous seven years made his stomach muscles clench. 
For a moment he had the urge to run back to the cabin, pack, grab 
Julian, hop in the runabout, and fly the two of them back to Deep Space 
Nine. 

Enough. 

The Prophets had told him this was necessary if he wished to understand 
how Bajor, Cardassia, and he personally had gotten to this point. 
Without these experiences, he would continue to flail, unable to 
effectively handle either his job as station commander or his personal 
life. He was also tired of constantly playing catch-up, constantly 
having to guess at things. He knew he wouldn't learn everything about 
the last seven years from the Orb: in order to do that, he would have 
to spend seven years here. Still, anything he did learn would give him 
an advantage. 

He reached forward and opened the front doors of the Orb's cabinet. 

******
******
******

"Ben, I'm not sure about this station. I don't feel safe here. The 
place is a bombed-out mess." 

"It'll only be for a short time, Jenn. We can school Jake at home." 

"You mean I can school Jake at home." 

"A space station's a great place for a teenaged boy. He'll have lots of 
adventures." 

"In an old uridium processing facility, sure." 

"There's another boy the same age as him." 

"Ben, he's a Ferengi." 

"Jennifer, relax; everything is going to be fine." 

****** 

"Isn't he a little young for you, old man?" 

"He doesn't think so. Come on, show me to my quarters. Good grief, Ben, 
this place is a mess!" 

"Jennifer said the same thing. Prefect Kerad didn't leave a tidy 
occupation. Why didn't you just tell him that you were a man three 
months ago?" 

A snorted laugh. "You think that would have stopped him?" 

"Hm?" 

"Nothing. So how are Jennifer and Jake? What does she think of the 
station?" 

"They're fine, and she doesn't think much of it. I don't think she 
appreciates the posting. She seems determined to see the dark cloud 
behind every silver lining." 

"It's not the Academy. This is a pretty rough place, especially for a 
boy Jake's age." 

"True, but -- it's more than that. I just don't know what to do. She's 
not happy, and I don't know how to make her happy." 

"You can't. The only person who can make her happy is her." 

"...so what's it like being young and female again?" 

"Eh, same old same old." 

****** 

"Commander Sisko, what a pleasure. I assume you're here for something 
for your lovely wife? Although nothing could possibly improve her 
beauty, I've just received a shipment of Ktarian velvets that she 
might--" 

"Actually, Mr. Garak, I came to ask you why you're on Deep Space Nine." 

"I am but a plain and simple tailor trying to make my way in this 
sector." 

"On a Bajoran-owned station." 

"One must start somewhere, and unfortunately for me Cardassia holds 
little interest." 

"I understand you were exiled." 

"Well, these things do have a habit of happening in the fashion world. 
A spat about the new hemline length, a controversy over lapel widths, 
and pfft: you've been bundled onto on a ship with strict orders never 
to set foot on the planet surface again." 

"Mm. You were saying something about Ktarian velvet?" 

"Yes. The Bajorans are having some kind of religious festival next week 
-- aren't they always -- and I thought Mrs. Sisko would look marvellous 
in this colour. You'll notice the iridescence. I think it would 
complement her skin tones admirably. Incidentally, Commander, I've 
noticed that Starfleet sent a new chief medical officer on the last 
transport. He seems quite young; a definite improvement on old Dr. 
Lempor. Do you know if he has a wife? I have some Vulcan silks..." 

"Actually, Dr. Bashir is single." 

"Ah. Well, if you'll send Mrs. Sisko's measurements along I can have 
the dress completed by the end of the week." 

****** 

"I -- I can't explain it, Jenn. I was in the Ganges near the Denorios 
Belt and suddenly I was surrounded by aliens." 

"You don't remember the wormhole opening?" 

"Barely, but it was as if my mind completely opened up the moment the 
wormhole opened. Like it left my body." 

"The runabout disappeared for almost two hours. Kira had to send Chief 
O'Brien out in another runabout to tow the Ganges back to the station 
once it reappeared. We thought we had lost you." 

"It didn't seem like I was in there for two hours. It was all very 
strange. The aliens looked like the Deep Space Nine staff and like you 
and Dad, but they didn't act like any of you. They kept telling me that 
I was 'the Sisko' and that I had come home again. I've never been there 
before in my life." 

"What else did they say?" 

"That I was to look for the Companion, whatever that means, and that 
they would call me back if they had anything to communicate. It was all 
very confusing. They looked deadly serious but I had the feeling they 
were radiating intense joy. They were also very -- I don't know, 
confused, as if I should have known them. Major Kira seemed upset when 
I saw her in the Infirmary." 

"She left to speak with Kai Opaka. That was over two hours ago. She 
said something about Prophets? I have a bad feeling about this, 
Ben...oh, good heavens, here comes the Kai..." 

"Your Eminence, what brings you to Deep Space Nine with such speed? I 
hope--" 

"Commander, Mrs. Sisko, I've arrived here after hearing the greatest 
news of my life. Today is indeed a glorious day on Bajor - the first 
day of the Age of the Emissary." 

****** 

"Was anyone else able to open the wormhole?" 

"Nobody, but Lieutenant Dax says the station sensors are showing it's 
still there. Commander..." 

"Yes, Major?" 

"I don't know if you've had a chance to read the Bajoran Prophecies?" 

"The Kai has sent me copies of them. From what I've read, they're very 
vague, and they don't always translate that clearly into Standard." 

"Some Prophecies are vague. Others -- I don't know if you've read 
Horran's Prophecies. One reads, 'The Emissary will open the skies.'" 

"Which means?" 

"The Kai thinks it might mean that you're the only one who can enter 
the Celestial Temple, at least while alive." 

"You know, when they communicated with me, they wanted to know where 
the Companion was. What's this companion? Is it mentioned in the 
Prophecies?" 

A pause. "From what the vedeks say, Emissary, the Companion is a 
person. He or she appears to be your assistant at some point. Beyond 
that the Prophecies are vague enough that any number of interpretations 
could be made." 

"Major, I'd rather you called me Commander for now. It's all very 
confusing still. I'm not sure if I can accept this yet." 

****** 

"Any success with the wormhole tests, Dax?" 

"We've sent probes, unmanned runabouts, manned runabouts, and it's 
always the same thing. The only time we can trigger the wormhole to 
open is if you travel near the entrance alone." 

"How can that be?" 

"...are you sure you've never been in this area of space, Benjamin? As 
a child, perhaps?" 

"You mean the aliens might recognize me? I'll ask my father, but I'm 
pretty sure I didn't leave Earth until I joined Starfleet." 

"Strange." 

"I'd really like to know more about the wormhole itself. Is it stable, 
who are the aliens, that kind of thing. Is there any way we could rig 
up sensors on the runabouts that would operate automatically when I 
enter the wormhole?" 

"I've already arranged for that. The last time you went in we took 
readings; it looks like the wormhole leads to the Gamma Quadrant." 

"The Gamma - Any idea whether it's stable? Could I get to the other 
side?" 

"Not yet, but even if it is, I wouldn't try. I can't guarantee you'd be 
let back in. The readings show that the wormhole aliens are able to 
bring the runabout in and eject it. They might be able to prevent you 
from entering from the wrong end." 

"And I'd be trapped alone thousands of light-years from home." 

"Exactly." 

"Hm. Then again, I'm not even conscious when I'm in there." 

****** 

"Sisko to Kira. Report to my office." 

"....Sir? Commander? What's wrong?" 

"I can hear these voices in my head -- no, don't call the Infirmary, 
I'm not ill. I swear I can hear the wormhole aliens -- the Prophets 
calling me. They want me. I'm going to need your help....I - I 
can't..." 

"Are you certain? This hasn't happened before. When you went in the 
last time--" 

"I'm absolutely certain. They have something they need to communicate." 

"I'll arrange for a runabout." 

****** 

"This isn't working." 

"Jennifer--" 

"I'd like to say it's this Emissary thing, but we've been drifting 
apart since even before we came here. I miss Earth and, although I hate 
to say it, I think you have a destiny here. It's pretty clear I'm not 
this 'Companion' the Prophecies go on about. That's probably for the 
best; I'm not cut out for life on a space station, even if I were - how 
does it go?" 

"'The jewels of the heart of the Emissary'". 

"Doesn't even make grammatical sense." 

"Translations sometimes don't make sense. Neither does this -- 
Jennifer, I love you." 

"It's not enough, Ben. Even the counsellor said so. I'm Jake's mother 
and in some way you'll always love me. But can you honestly look me in 
the eye and say you're still in love with me?" 

"...." 

****** 

"She's left me, old man." 

"What? Ben, oh no. Are you-" 

"It's all right. I've been expecting this for a while, to be honest. Or 
at least I should have been. We haven't been close for some time." 

"Is it the Emissary thing? I know it's been bothering her." 

"You know, I don't know how much of it is that. She said not, but -- 
well, maybe I shouldn't be telling you this, but I've been sleeping on 
the sofa ever since we moved here. If my being the Emissary is 
upsetting her, it's only the straw that broke the camel's back. And it 
wasn't just her. I'm just as much at fault." 

"Ben, I'm sorry. Where has she gone? Back to Earth?" 

"For now. She and Jake are staying with my father for Christmas. It's 
all very civilized. I think we'll probably end up friends. Jake will be 
back in six months. He's going to spend three months a year on the 
station. Jennifer thinks he'd probably do better in a setting where 
there are more kids his age, but she can't deny that spending some time 
every year in a place like Deep Space Nine would broaden his horizons." 

"I see her point. I don't know if I would want a child on this station 
right now either, especially considering the stunt The Circle just 
pulled on Quark." 

"Yep." 

"Listen. Station Services is holding their first annual Christmas party 
in three nights' time. Why don't you come?" 

"Dax, I am not up for a singles' party." 

"It's not a singles' party. It's for staff whose families are far away. 
A lot of the Services staff have family on Earth, and apparently they 
miss them more this time of year. Crew from every division are coming 
and you'd be welcome. In fact the only unattached person I know who's 
coming is Julian, and that's only because his parents cancelled on him 
for Christmas." 

"They did? That's low. How's he treating you these days?" 

"Well, he's stopped humping my leg at every possible opportunity. Don't 
laugh; it was getting ridiculous. He's spending a lot of time 
researching that prionic disease he discovered. He's also eating lunch 
with Garak these days." 

"Garak? Each to his own, I suppose." 

"They discuss Shakespeare. Don't laugh." 

****** 

"Have you seen Julian?" 

"-fideles, laeti triumph--hm?" 

"Julian, Ben. Have you seen him?" 

"He was here about half an hour ago." 

"He got a comm and I thought he was in the infirmary, but he's not 
there. Dax to Bashir." 

"Mmmm?" 

"Julian, what's wrong?" 

"Jadzia...help." 

"Hm?" 

"That doesn't sound good. Ben, let's go." 

"Where is he?" 

"Computer, locate Dr. Bashir." 

"Dr. Bashir is in his quarters." 

"What do you think's happened?" 

"Level five, right?" 

"Maybe he's sick." 

"Dax, he's the station CMO. He'd be in the Infirmary." 

"Oh, right." 

"These are his quarters, right? Doctor? Let us in!" 

"Julian? What is it?" 

"Commander, Jadzia." 

"Julian, what happened? Why are you crying?" 

"Read it..." 

"It says...oh no. Julian, I'm so sorry. Ben, his parents have been in 
an accident." 

"How badly were they hurt?" 

"Ben...both of them." 

"...why did I listen to the bastard..." 

"Sisko to Ops. When does the next passenger transport leave for Earth?" 

Her voice was distant. "Ben, I'm packing a bag for him." 

"Commander, there's one leaving from Upper Pylon Two in five minutes." 

"...I should have gone home. I should have ignored the bastard..." 

"Hold it and save a seat for Dr. Bashir. He's had a death -- deaths in 
the family and needs to return to Earth on priority status. Bump 
somebody if you have to, Ensign. I don't care whom." 

".... and gone home anyway. She wouldn't be dead..." 

"Doctor, do you have any siblings? Someone who can meet you?" 

"I -- there's just my aunt Ruksha in Karachi. I'll call her from the 
transport." 

"Ops to Sisko. I've got him a seat on the transport, but there's an 
unhappy admiral who wants to speak to you about it." 

"Thanks, Harven. Good job. Hold it until he gets there." 

"Here you go, Julian. I've packed your dress uniform, a couple of other 
outfits, shoes, and everything else you should need for a few days. You 
can replicate anything I've forgotten. I'll walk you to the transport." 

"Thank you, Jadzia. Commander." 

"Call us if you need anything." 

******
******
******

He held the umbrella above Vedek Harash's head as they walked down the 
long narrow path. 

"I was in my own personal past, in my own body, but I couldn't see 
anything. I could hear voices and I could feel my body moving around, 
but that was all. It wasn't like the Orb experience I had a few years 
back, either; I couldn't interact with what was going on. The 
experiences felt more like short snippets being played from my memory. 
It was all very disconcerting." 

The elderly man poked at a rock with his walking stick. "Orb 
experiences are very individual, Emissary. Each has its own nuances. 
You should not assume that they will be the same as your first 
communion with an Orb." 

Distant thunder rolled through the valley as they picked their way 
along the river bank. 

"You say the Prophets ordered you to seek out this Orb and subject 
yourself to it?" 

"They said it would give me answers. They didn't tell me what the 
questions were, though." 

"Well," Harash said with a chuckle, "that is something our Prophets 
appear to have in common with some of your Earth gods, if I recall 
correctly. It sounds to me, if I may say so, that the problem is that 
your mind is not in a state to become fully connected to the Orb. Often 
stress and overwork prevent the mind from being able to make a full 
connection, and you have just come from Deep Space Nine. If I were you, 
I would go back to your cabin, enjoy a good meal, relax, and get a good 
night's sleep. Then return in the morning. I suggest that you also 
restrict yourself to one session per day. Spend the rest of the day in 
meditation and rest." 

They sat on a bench under a canopy and watched as the rainwater 
funnelled between two large moss-covered boulders to their left and 
poured into a pond below. A few minutes later, Sisko asked, "Why was 
the Orb of Time brought here? I thought it was originally from Hamissa 
province." 

"Its home monastery was there, but the main buildings that sheltered 
the Orb were destroyed during the Occupation. We are a sister 
institution, so when the Orb arrived on Bajor the Kai asked us to take 
care of it until another location could be found. Naturally we agreed. 
It is unlikely we will be able to keep it since we already have the Orb 
of Prophecy and Change, and to be honest one Orb is a great deal of 
work so we are hoping another home will be found soon." The vedek 
shifted his weight. "I should return to my chambers. I am afraid that 
at my age this damp is not conducive to sitting on a stone bench." 

Sisko stood, helping the aged cleric to his feet. "Thank you for your 
advice, Vedek Harash. I'll walk you back." 

******

They sat at the old wooden table in the tiny cabin. "You never told me 
you could make salad." 

Julian blushed. "Anybody can make salad, Ben. You just pick the 
vegetables, wash off the dirt and the bugs, cut it all up, and voila. 
Although I did have two prylars supervising me to make sure I wasn't 
somehow poisoning the Emissary." He speared a chunk of red vegetable. 
"Luckily, you didn't have to depend on me for the rest of dinner. Do 
you know, not a drop of our meal is replicated? Everything was grown 
either on the grounds of the monastery or at one of the sister 
monasteries on the southern continent. They can't grow harba root or 
Terran lentils here; apparently the climate isn't right." 

Ben swallowed a mouthful of soup. "My dad doesn't like to cook with 
replicated vegetable ingredients either, although he will use 
replicated meat, but not seafood. He prefers replicated salt for 
decorations - says he can achieve more consistent colours." 

"Has he written back?" 

"Hm?" He hadn't seen a letter from his father; he wondered why he'd be 
writing. 

"About coming out for New Year's?" 

"Not yet." He grasped for something to say. "I suspect he'd like the 
time off before the Mardi Gras rush." 

They finished their meal. "What was it like today?" Julian asked as he 
cleared the table. "That is, if you can tell me anything about it." 

"There isn't much to tell. It was actually pretty mundane -- I 
experienced, or rather heard, some selected memories of my first year 
on the station. Arriving on the station, entering the Celestial Temple, 
Jennifer leaving me, things like that. The first time I was called to 
the Temple. You learning of your parents' deaths. They were all very 
short and murky. I couldn't even see anything. Vedek Harash thinks I'm 
suffering from high stress levels and for some reason that's making it 
difficult for me to connect to the Orb." 

"I have no doubt that the good vedek's diagnosis is accurate. Did he 
provide you with a prescription?" 

"Just a good meal, relaxation, and sleep. And meditation during the 
afternoons." 

"Well, I've taken care of the first and the last is out of my control, 
but I think I might be able to do something about the other two." 
Julian took him by the hand and led him towards the sleeping mats in 
the corner of the cabin. "Lie down. I'll give you a back rub. That 
always puts you to sleep." 

He looked at Julian out of the corner of his eye as he shed his robes 
and lay down on his stomach. "No, um, what was that stuff?" 

"Urushiol oil?" He grinned. "No, this is just plain massage oil. 
Relax." 

He stretched out under Julian's expert hands. The man knew what he was 
doing: shoulders, flanks, buttocks, thighs - every muscle, every part, 
every limb was kneaded in its turn. He had never felt so relaxed or so 
cherished in his life. 

He didn't even feel himself drift off to sleep. 

******

Chapter 8

****** 

His second day with the Orb. He stared at it as if it were an enemy. 
What will you expose me to this morning? he wondered. He unlatched the 
door. 

******
******
******

"How is he?" he asked as he entered the Infirmary. 

A young Julian Bashir shook his head almost imperceptibly. "If he had 
been standing three centimetres further to the right, sir, I'd be 
filling out his death certificate. I've implanted an artificial heart 
and ascending aorta and repaired the worst of the subdermal burns, but 
he'll need further surgery for the dermal thoracic burns in the next 48 
hours. Most of the muscles and cartilage in his right pectoral area 
have been destroyed and will have to be reconstructed as well, and 
he'll eventually need respiratory therapy, cardiotherapy, and 
neurotherapy. I'll be surprised if he returns to full duty within six 
months. He's lucky to be alive." 

He looked down at the biobed. Li Nalas, the man who had saved his life, 
was resting comfortably for now in a sterile field, his oxygen 
requirements met by the electronic respirator. "I've contacted the 
Provisional Government. They've agreed to ask Major Kira to assume his 
duties on a temporary basis." 

"Doesn't seem fair to her, does it? Sending her away, dragging her 
back..." 

"No, but it isn't our call." He sighed. "It would be nice to have them 
both here permanently." 

"It would, sir. They both talk about how they aren't heroes, how 
they're just regular people," Bashir said. "But they are heroes. They 
just don't see it in themselves." 

They're not the only ones, Sisko thought, as he looked at the exhausted 
young man. "When's the last time you had a proper rest?" 

He shrugged noncommittally. "I haven't had much since Dr. Ramish 
returned to Bajor. Starfleet is finally sending me a proper locum, a 
man named Pauli Riis, but he won't be here for another nine days. Until 
then I'm on call 26 hours a day." 

There must be something he could do..."Why don't I get you something to 
eat?" 

"Thank you sir, but I'll grab something from the replicators in here." 

"No, I mean real food. Since Jennifer and Jake left I'm still cooking 
for three; I always have leftovers. I'll get you a bowl of stew. Stay 
there and I'll be back in a few minutes." 

Bashir blushed, then gave him a smile that could light the Infirmary by 
itself. "It's been a bit hectic. I suppose I've forgotten to eat." 

"That doesn't make you a very effective physician, does it? 

He smiled again. "No, sir." 

"I'll be right back." 

****** 

He met Kira at the airlock. "Major, it's good to have you back." 

"Commander, I hate to say it, but it's good to be back," she replied, 
her bag slung over her shoulder. "I didn't realize how much I would 
miss Deep Space Nine until I was at the monastery. I've had more things 
happen here in ten minutes than in an entire month down there. Although 
I did meet a few interesting people." 

"We missed you too." He wasn't surprised to find that seclusion and 
meditation hadn't agreed with her. "You had a message this morning from 
a Bareil Antos. Is he one of the 'few interesting people' you met?" 

She grinned. "Vedek Bareil is the head of the monastery, and yes, he is 
a very interesting person." They walked down the docking ring towards 
the turbolift. "How is the Navarch?" 

"As well as can be expected. Julian says he's progressing 
satisfactorily. It's difficult for him. The respiratory therapy and all 
the other therapies he has to go through every day are bad enough, but 
he's bored to tears as well. Most of the Bajorans on station are too 
intimidated to come within three metres of him, and the Starfleet 
personnel don't seem to have anything in common with him. Julian's a 
bit concerned." 

"Lucky for him he's in the Infirmary. Dr. Bashir'll talk his ear off." 

"Actually, since Julian's parents died he's changed, although he and Li 
get along better than I would have expected. Julian's teaching him to 
play backgammon." 

"I'd forgotten about the doctor's parents. Is there anything I could do 
to help either of them?" She pressed the turbolift button while smiling 
at two station residents who greeted her as they passed. 

"I think Julian just needs some time to grieve. As for Li, maybe you 
could talk to him as an equal instead of as a Hero of the Occupation. 
Julian thinks he'd appreciate being able to discuss matters with 
somebody who knows what the Occupation was like but who doesn't worship 
him." 

"I'll keep that in mind. Have there been any personnel changes I should 
know about?" she asked as they entered the turbolift. 

"Only that Starfleet has finally stopped playing musical security 
officers with me and appointed a permanent head of security, a 
Lieutenant-Commander Michael Eddington." 

"Human?" 

"Mm, from a place on Earth called Halifax, not all that far from New 
Orleans. He seems competent, but he's only been here three weeks so who 
knows how he'll turn out in the long run. Julian seems to like him, 
though. There have also been a few new appointments to Ship's Services 
and Sciences. Oh, and Harven's been promoted." 

"He's the Gamma duty officer, right? The one who bumped Admiral 
Nechayev when Dr. Bashir had to go home after his parents died?" 

"The very one. By the way, I've assigned you quarters next to Major 
Li's. When he's released from the Infirmary maybe you could spend some 
time with him. That won't be for a while, though." 

"I might just do that." She gave him a sidelong glance. "That is, if 
Julian approves." 

"It was his idea." 

She grinned. "Really..." 

"Hm?" 

****** 

Kira was staring at the batter. "So if he swings the bat and doesn't 
hit the ball, that's a strike." 

"That's right." 

"But if he doesn't swing the bat, it's a strike too." 

Sisko sighed. "Only if the ball passes through a certain area above 
home plate." 

"But then," Dax said, "it's also a strike if he swings the bat, hits 
the ball, and it lands outside the white lines." 

"Then what's an out?" she asked. 

"If he gets three strikes," Sisko said. 

"Or," Julian added, "if he swings the bat, hits the ball, and a member 
of the opposing team catches it before it hits the ground." 

"Or if he swings the bat, hits the ball, it hits the ground on or 
inside the lines, but a member of the opposing team catches it and 
touches the batter with the ball before he gets to whatever base he's 
running to," Sisko concluded. He tilted his bucket of popcorn so Julian 
could take a handful. 

"What happens if the guy throwing the ball hits him?" Kira asked. 

"Then he gets to walk to first base," Sisko answered. 

"What if the guy throwing the ball hits the bat, even if the batter 
doesn't swing?" 

They all looked at each other. 

"I like the game Michael showed me last week better," Dax said. "The 
players run around bumping into each other and then there's a big 
fight. It's a lot easier to follow. Apparently they still play it on 
Earth, right in this city." 

Kira frowned. "They fight? On the field?" 

"Well, it's actually played on ice, but yeah they do. Oh, and once in a 
while they throw a black thing into a net and then all pound each other 
on the back." 

"Are you sure that's not a Klingon game?" Julian asked. 

"Well, they do have live seafood. Michael said it was called octopus. 
The spectators throw them at the players." 

Kira shuddered. "That's disgusting." 

****** 

He reached the Promenade at a dead run. A rumpled Bashir looked up and 
shook his head. "I estimate time of death to be 0320 - forty minutes 
ago. The common carotid artery has been cleanly bisected." He stood. "A 
typical Circle murder. Bajorans only have the one carotid artery so 
loss of consciousness and death are almost instantaneous, and the 
artery tends to collapse at that spot so there isn't much bleeding." 

Eddington spoke. "Vedek Bareil appears to have been heading towards the 
Replimat when he was attacked, although we haven't located any 
witnesses yet. I've performed a DNA scan of the Vedek's clothing and 
remains and found recent traces of two individuals. One," he said as 
Nurse Lepara arrived with a steri-blanket, "appears to have grabbed the 
vedek from behind by the shoulder; we found traces of skin particles on 
his clothing. We're attempting to match the DNA with station residents 
right now. The other -- I've asked one of the nurses to notify Major 
Kira." He gave Sisko a significant look. 

"Ah." Damn damn damn. "Any luck on the murder weapon yet?" 

"Nothing, Commander - I'm sorry, Captain. We've shut down all recyclers 
and closed off station access. My deputies are searching for evidence 
but until we can identify the DNA it's not likely--" 

"Ops to Eddington." 

The security chief smiled faintly. "Find anything, Jadzia?" 

"I'm afraid we have. Does the name Seren Hyel ring a bell?" 

"Oh damn." Eddington's face fell. "You're sure?" 

"I'm absolutely sure, Mike." 

"Thanks, Jadz." He hit his comm badge again. "Eddington to all security 
personnel. Alert: our suspect is Corporal Seren Hyel. He is to be 
considered armed and dangerous. Use all necessary force to apprehend 
Mr. Seren." 

"Seren Hyel?" Sisko asked. "Isn't that..." 

"My senior deputy," Eddington finished, swearing under his breath. "How 
could he--" His lips became a thin line. "Doctor, I assume you'll want 
to move the remains to the Infirmary now." 

"I'd rather wait until Kira arrives." 

"You think she should see him like this?" he asked, surprised. "I'd 
think the Major might be a bit uncomfortable with this kind of thing." 

Before Sisko could say anything, Bashir spoke up. "Kira Nerys saw and 
possibly caused 'things' a thousand times worse than this when she was 
in the Resistance during the Occupation. She'll want to see exactly how 
he died so she knows his pagh escaped quickly." 

"Oh, I, uh, didn't realize that," Eddington said. "Captain, I'd like to 
join in the search for Mr. Seren. I have some ideas as to where he 
might be hiding. My scene of crime officers will complete the final 
procedures here." 

"Permission granted." Betrayed by his deputy -- no wonder the man was 
flustered. 

The security chief left, barking orders into his comm badge as he 
stepped into the turbolift; Sisko gave Bashir a look as they stood by 
the body waiting for Kira to arrive. 

"Jadz?" 

"Mike?" 

Bashir frowned. "I'd ask 'what does he have that I don't have', except 
that -- if that's what she wants, I don't think I want what he has. If 
that makes any sense, sir." 

"Not really," he replied, "but I think I see your point. Although 
you're not missing anything, Julian. You're fine the way you are." 

"Thank you, sir." They shared a quick smile before Kira Nerys arrived 
with Li Nalas. She was pale white and her face was as hard as Sisko had 
ever seen it, but not a tear dampened her eyes. Li raised an eyebrow at 
the two men before helping Kira to Bareil's side. 

"His pagh was released quickly?" Kira asked quietly as she knelt and 
swept aside the steri-blanket. 

"Almost instantly," Bashir replied, kneeling down beside her. "He would 
hardly have felt a thing." 

Her fingers touched his earring. "There isn't much blood." 

"There never is in this type of death. The heart stops within a few 
seconds." 

"Thank you, Julian. That was considerate of you." She stood up, said a 
brief prayer, and left with Li; Bashir covered the body again and 
arranged for transportation to the morgue. 

****** 

"I've just been advised that the Provisional Government has agreed to 
allow Li and Kira to remain here as joint liaison officers." 

Dax looked at Sisko over her coffee cup. "That's good news. Are they 
going to have the same rank?" 

"Officially Li will be the head liaison officer and Kira the assistant 
liaison officer, but that has more to do with Li's title as Navarch 
than with his duties on the station." He sighed. "Given the memo I just 
received from Admiral Barron, we'll need all the help we can get." 

"I heard about that. How much are they reducing our staffing by?" 

"Forty-five percent." Dax groaned; he shrugged. "They've given the Kai 
their word that they won't transfer me or any of my senior staff, and 
they've promised me a minimum number of key personnel, but I think 
we're going to have to bring in people from Bajor in some positions. 
Station services and security, especially." 

"I'm guessing this has something to do with the Andorian crisis?" 

"Apparently Starfleet considers the Romulans to be a greater threat 
than the Cardassians. They might have a point. Look at this." He pushed 
a padd across to her. "Some figures Intelligence has come up with. It 
appears that the Cardassian Central Command has been siphoning off 
enormous amounts of money from the state central treasury for decades 
without anybody being the wiser. Cardassia might not be able to afford 
an offensive." 

She read the first page and let out a low whistle. "This is incredible. 
You'd think the Obsidian Order would have been all over this like a 
targ on a bone. They knew what every Cardassian ate for lunch, Ben; how 
could they miss this?" 

"Well, that's the interesting thing, and this is between us: apparently 
they didn't, or at least not all of them did. I have it on good 
authority that one member of the Order did find out about it, but 
shortly afterwards he was framed by someone in the Central Command and 
charged with betraying the head of the Order." 

"And probably shot at sunrise the next morning. Cardassians don't 
believe in the Not Guilty plea, do they?" She smiled. "Talking about 
Cardassians, did you know that Julian has Garak reading Romeo and 
Juliet?" 

"Really? I didn't know the doctor liked Shakespeare that much. I've 
always been partial to The Merchant of Venice myself." He imagined 
Julian for a moment as Antonio. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dax roll her eyes. "Whatever, Ben." 

****** 

He walked into the Infirmary holding a bloody towel over his right 
palm. "Doctor, I wonder if you have a minute?" 

"Certainly, Capta--what did you do to your hand, sir?" The doctor 
grabbed his tricorder and ran it over the apparent injury site. 

"Jake and I were playing baseball in one of the holosuites. I don't 
know if you've seen baseball shoes. They have sharp cleats on the 
bottom. Jake ran over my hand sliding into second." 

"You'd think the safeties would have prevented this. Have you reported 
the accident to Chief O'Brien?" 

"The shoes weren't holographic." 

"Ah," the doctor said as he gently removed the towel, checked the 
bleeding, sanitized the wound and applied a local anaesthetic. "Has 
Jake worn them outside at all? I mean on a planet surface or around the 
station?" 

"I believe he has. Is that a problem?" 

"It might be, sir. Where has he worn them?" 

"Just on Earth and Bajor. Why?" 

The doctor's hands were so professional, so strong. So soft. 

Why did he think that? He must not be getting enough sleep or 
something. 

Bashir sealed the wound. "For all our medical and scientific advances, 
we haven't yet been able to remove pathogenic spores from most natural 
soils. Some of them can cause diseases in humans. I'll just review your 
history..." 

Their eyes met for a second. How beautiful they -- STOP THAT, he told 
himself. 

"...and if I find you're missing any relevant immunizations," he 
continued smoothly, "I'll comm you." 

"Um, thank you, Doctor." He got up to leave. 

Julian walked him to the door of the Infirmary. "If you have any 
residual pain or any restriction of motion, let me know right away. 
Generally these things don't cause any problems. Good evening, sir, and 
be careful." He returned to his office. 

Sisko watched him walk away and found his gaze dropping down the 
doctor's lean body to-- 

-and what the hell do you think you're doing, Ben? he chastised 
himself. Are you insane? The man is your subordinate. Remember Curzon's 
advice: never get involved with someone whose performance review you 
have to write. 

He shook his head, then marched himself back to his quarters where his 
son was waiting for him. Maybe he left his mind there. 

****** 

The familiar arrogant face came up on the main viewscreen yet again. 
"Gul Kerad." Sisko could feel the headache starting between his eyes. 

"Captain Sisko, I had wondered what had happened to Terok Nor - oh, 
forgive me, Deep Space Nine, since I left." 

"I'm afraid we're currently under quarantine, as you might have guessed 
from the code we're transmitting," Sisko replied, ignoring Li Nalas's 
grunt of anger behind him. "Forgive me, Kerad, but why are you here?" 

"Just thought I'd come by and see what was going on, Captain." The last 
word was said with all the sarcasm the dumpy little blob could muster. 
"Central Command heard about your little problem and was quite 
entertained." 

"I would suggest, then," he said in as even a tone as he could muster, 
"that due to the nature of the disease we're fighting, you leave the 
vicinity of the station as quickly as possible. You certainly wouldn't 
want a prionic pathogen to be 'accidentally' transported aboard the 
Mandor." 

Kerad snorted. "Why would we care? It's a Bajoran disease." 

"You should care because our Cardassian resident, Mr. Garak, is among 
those affected. Our CMO isn't sure he's going to make it. Apparently 
his suffering is quite unnerving." An overstatement, but if it would 
get rid of the bastard... 

The gul's eyes widened. "Ah. Well then." He looked around his bridge. 
"We'll advise Central Command that Cardassian vessels should avoid the 
Bajoran sector until the infection has been contained. Kerad out." The 
Mandor retreated, then went into warp. 

"Fat lot of good it'll do them, sir," Dr. Riis said from the back of 
Ops. 

Sisko turned to him, momentarily vexed that Julian hadn't come himself. 
"What have you heard?" 

"We've just received a message from Starfleet Medical. They think this 
is a mutation of a Cardassian pathogen they first saw about 43 years 
ago on Verras IV. The labs on Starbase 83 are working overtime to 
devise a treatment regimen that'll arrest the progress of the disease. 
One piece of good news is that it doesn't look like we need a 
quarantine after all." 

Dax walked up to them. "Why is that?" 

"Prions are also known as slow viruses," Riis explained. "It can take 
anywhere from six months up to 20 years for a prionic infection to 
cause clinical signs of disease in an individual. In this case, 
exposure likely took place nine to eighteen months ago. We're not sure 
how; I'm guessing it was through the water supply." 

"Sabotage," Sisko said. 

"Quite possibly, sir. Bajorans and Cardassians who were on the station 
during that time period seem to be uniformly affected; individuals who 
have arrived since are uniformly clear. We've also established that the 
infection can't be spread between individuals, even through sexual 
contact or pregnancy." 

Sisko frowned. "Wasn't Gul Kerad on the station during that time? Do 
you think he might have-" He looked over at Eddington. "Commander, is 
there a possibility that the Cardassians could have booby-trapped the 
replicators?" 

He stared back. "I haven't a clue. I thought replicators couldn't 
handle living tissue." 

The comm system came to life. "Bashir to Riis. Please report to the 
Infirmary stat." 

"Aye, sir." Riis took off; something in Julian's voice made Sisko 
follow him. 

"So how's it really going?" he asked Pauli quietly on the way. 

He shook his head. "Bad. Dr. Bashir's been able to slow the process 
down in most patients and the extra hands from the Challenger have us 
ahead of the game with respect to nursing care, but if Starfleet can't 
find a cure we're going to lose every patient." He stopped Sisko before 
they reached the Infirmary. "Julian is at the end of his tether, 
Captain. I know you people in Ops haven't had a chance to think this 
over yet, but you should realize: this could possibly affect every 
Bajoran and every Cardassian who was on the station during the time 
frame I discussed. Every one." 

"You don't mean..." 

Riis looked back into the Infirmary, then turned back to Sisko. "Every 
one. The Kai, the entire Vedek Assembly, every member of the 
Provisional Government..." He pressed his lips together. "He's 
overwhelmed, sir. Talk to him, please." They entered the Infirmary. 

He found Bashir in a back room closing the fastener on a long black 
bag. "Number 47," he said as he slammed the tray into the wall. "Three 
more and we'll have run out of-" He turned around. "Sorry, Captain, I 
thought you were Dr. Riis. Have you seen him?" 

He nodded towards the front of the Infirmary. "A patient came in 
bleeding. He's sealing the wound." 

"Ah. We're in the middle of an epidemic and people can't stop cutting 
themselves open. Very hygienic. Very useful. I should get back to my 
patients." He made to leave. 

"Doctor." 

He spun on his heels. "What? Is there something you want, Captain?" 

Sisko looked at the young man. He was acting very much like - and he 
held back a laugh. Bashir was acting very much like Sisko himself acted 
at times when a wandering admiral showed up in Ops. The alpha male 
protecting his domain. It made Julian seem much more appealing and much 
less like the young, insecure physician he had been only eighteen 
months earlier. He decided to back off. 

"There is, and it does concern this epidemic, but it can wait a few 
hours if you don't have the time now." 

Bashir held up a hand. "I'm sorry, sir. Of course. My office?" 

He nodded; they entered the cramped room and Bashir closed the door 
behind them. "I apologize, sir. It's just that-" He sat on the edge of 
his desk and fumed. "I don't know if you've heard that Major Kira has 
progressed to Level 3?" 

"Level 3? How bad is that?" 

"Supra-ganglionic involvement. Any damage at that level is easily 
treatable if a proper regimen can be found. The danger is that once 
Cardassian prionic infections reach Level 3 they generally progress at 
a faster rate. Patients at Level 3 can reach Level 10 -- medullar 
involvement, which is uniformly fatal -- within 96 hours." 

Sisko took a deep breath in. "Do you know what's holding up the cure? 
Haven't we had antiprionics for 200 years?" 

He shrugged. "They haven't told me. I have a feeling they don't know 
either. My gut feeling is that it's a designer mutation." He looked up. 
"I'm sorry; you had a question for me, Captain?" 

He looked into Julian's eyes and held back a hundred irrelevant, 
essential questions. Why did you become a doctor? Do you like Creole 
food? What really brought you to Deep Space Nine? When was the last 
time you had a full night's sleep? Would you mind if I held you while 
you slept? Why didn't you get along with your father? Do you want 
children? Would you apply for a transfer if I kissed you? 

"Should I be notifying members of the Bajoran government that their 
health is in danger?" he finally asked. 

"I suspect that those currently showing symptoms were exposed to the 
prion at least a dozen times, but I don't know for sure." Bashir 
crossed his arms. "It's probably prudent to contact everyone who was on 
Deep Space Nine from the time the Occupation ended to at least the date 
Li Nalas arrived on the station. He's clear and so are other Bajorans 
who arrived at about the same time. I'm confident the pathogen was gone 
by then." 

"Damn." He ran a hand over his head. "Could this have been spread 
through the replicators?" 

"I haven't a clue. I don't know a thing about how replicators work, and 
from my standpoint it doesn't matter. What matters is that I've got 342 
seriously ill patients, the vast majority of whom are my friends and 
colleagues, and I'm facing the possibility that I'll lose every one of 
them and I won't be able to do a damn thing about it." He looked up at 
Sisko. "I won't give up on them." 

"Nobody's asking you to." 

He nodded. "Thank you, sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back 
to Cargo Bay 4." 

Sisko watched him leave, then returned to Ops. He wasn't looking 
forward to his conversations with the Kai and the First Minister. 

****** 

He walked among the cases of contraband weapons Eddington had 
discovered in his routine search of the Pygorian ship. "I assume they 
were headed for the DMZ?" 

"From what I've been able to discover, sir," the commander replied. 
"Apparently a member of the insurgency made a deal with Quark to buy 
disrupters, pulse cannons, and phaser banks, among other items." He 
gestured at the larger crates stacked up against the wall. "Quark 
arranged with the Pygorians to deliver the first shipment of small 
arms, but he forgot about the security protocols we've had in place 
since the Circle uprising." 

Seems the moment we get rid of one problem another shows up, he 
thought. "Any idea where this Maquis gunrunner's gone?" 

"The deal also included the purchase of troop transports and small 
attack ships. I suspect she's gone with her people to accept delivery." 

He frowned. "I suggest you advise Mr. Quark that he is on this station 
at my discretion. There will be no more weapons trading on Deep Space 
Nine if he wishes to remain here." He didn't hold out much hope for his 
proscription: telling a Ferengi not to smuggle was like telling the 
wind not to blow. 

"I've advised him that Starfleet and the Bajoran government take a dim 
view of this sort of behaviour." 

"You may also wish to remind him that there are two sides to every 
airlock." 

Eddington gaped at him. "Sir-" 

He waved a hand. "I'm not suggesting you threaten him; I'm suggesting 
you warn him. The Maquis don't play by the same rules as Starfleet or 
even the Cardassians. They're likely to kill him if he shortchanges 
them or provides them with items of inferior quality. We both know he's 
likely to do both." 

"You have a point," Eddington said. "Quark's mindful of his own safety. 
It might be the only way to get through to him." 

It might at that, he thought. "This Maquis - what's her name?" 

"Sakonna." 

He stared at Eddington. "Vulcan?" 

"Apparently." 

He shook his head. "If and when this Sakonna shows up on the station, I 
want her charged. God knows what they were planning." 

****** 

"I'm releasing Major Li to full duty, sir," Bashir reported as he took 
a seat in Sisko's office. "We've completed the reprogramming of his 
immune system to accept the artificial heart and aorta. He's passed his 
latest cardiac function tests. Pulmonary function tests are at 75% of 
normal. I expect he'll recover the rest of his pulmonary function over 
the next few months, but right now there isn't any reason for him not 
to return to full-time duty." 

"Excellent work, doctor. Between this and the treatment regimen you 
devised for the epidemic, I've been very pleased with your work this 
past month." Sisko took a moment to examine his CMO. Dark circles under 
the eyes, dull skin...it had been a long five weeks for the entire 
medical team, but especially for Julian. "And how about you? How have 
you been coping?" 

He swallowed. "Me? Um, all right I suppose. I've, um, received copies 
of my parents' death certificates." 

"Something unexpected, I take it?" 

Bashir's face dropped. "Actually, sir...could I talk to you 
confidentially? I don't know what to do about this." He fidgeted for a 
moment. "I had to petition to receive the certificates from the Euro 
Police under the Federation Freedom of Information Act. It took them 
months, and now I know why. Apparently they're investigating my 
father." 

Sisko gave him a sharp look. "What? Why - but I thought it was an 
accident." 

"It was. They're investigating him for other criminal matters. 
Embezzlement, tax evasion, smuggling." He snorted a laugh. "It's funny; 
everyone assumes that my parents were industrialists or ambassadors or 
aristocrats and that I must have been terribly spoiled as a child. I 
suppose it's the accent -- you pick that up in a place like Harrow -- 
but trust me, my home life wasn't anything like that. In reality, sir, 
my father was a lot like Quark, only not as honest or...perhaps I 
shouldn't speak ill of the dead." 

"But if your father's dead, what are they hoping to find in the 
investigation?" 

Bashir stared out the viewport. "Father was involved in things that -- 
well, sir, let's just say that none of his ventures were legal, but 
some were more illegal than others. My parents always talked about how 
they scrimped and saved, but in reality they always had an enormous 
amount of latinum around when I was a child, and from what they spent 
it on I had a feeling they didn't declare most of it on their tax 
returns. In fact, the main reason I left home had to do with one of 
their extravagances. I would have been five years old. It must have set 
them back quite a few bricks." He looked down at his hands and began to 
fidget again. "By the time I turned fifteen I was so angry at the two 
of them for what they had done to me that I changed my first name. If I 
could have changed my last name I would have done that too. I realized 
that I'd have to stay as far away from them as possible if I wanted a 
normal life, so I transferred to a boarding school." 

Done to him? Sisko wondered. What could a parent do that could cost so 
much and make a child that angry years later? Oh God...he remembered a 
documentary he and Jennifer had seen one night on FNN back when they 
were on the Saratoga. Visions of forced psychosexual conditioning went 
through his head, and he found himself becoming very angry at Richard 
and Amsha Bashir. 

"The Euro Police have advised me that my parents' property has been 
seized pending the outcome of the investigation. I don't want their 
money, but there are things like family photos, my old school records, 
you know --" 

"Personal things," he said in a monotone. If Richard Bashir were alive 
he'd kill him. He might just dig him up and nail his body to the doors 
of the Tower of London for the hell of it. 

Bashir nodded. "I could never ask my parents for them, but now that 
they're gone I'd like to have some mementoes of my childhood. Despite 
everything they were still my parents; I still love them. It probably 
sounds spoiled to you considering the horrors that took place on Bajor, 
but I don't even have a proper holopicture of my mother." 

Sisko waved his hand. "Not at all. It's the kind of stuff we take for 
granted. Do you want me to see what I can do?" 

"If it's not too much trouble..." Bashir looked hopefully up at him. 

"I know somebody, well, somebody who knows someone. I'll get in touch 
with her." He sat forward in his chair, thinking of a way to bring up 
the delicate topic. "About this extravagance you mentioned, are you 
sure you might not benefit from counselling to deal with the effects? I 
can bring in somebody from outside if you want." 

The doctor shook his head perhaps a little too emphatically. "No, 
that's not necessary, Captain. I have to handle this on my own." 

"Not totally on your own, Julian," Sisko heard himself say. "If you 
ever need to talk about it, my door is always open." 

The doctor appeared unconvinced. "Thank you, sir." He rose from his 
seat and left. 

He stared at the door for a full minute before making the call. Damn. 
Hell and damnation. 

****** 

"Emissary, try to sit up." 

He opened his eyes and looked around the runabout. "Nalas..." 

"I beamed myself over from the Yang Tse once your runabout left the 
Celestial Temple. We were worried when you didn't respond to our 
hails." 

"How long was I in the Temple this time?" 

"Not very long, only thirty minutes, but you've been drifting out here 
for almost as long. Can you stand?" 

He pulled himself up with Li's help, leaning on the back of one of the 
chairs until his head cleared. "I'm not sure why they called me. They 
just wanted to reassure me. They said that the Companion was near and 
that all was proceeding according to plan." They both took their seats. 
"Since they don't seem to understand linear time very well, I guess 
they mean that the Companion is physically near." 

"I suppose congratulations are in order, then." 

He frowned. "Congratulations." 

"Absolutely," the Bajoran said with a smile. "You've read the 
Prophecies, Emissary. You and the Companion are meant to be very close, 
maybe even lovers. What's the phrase? 'The pagh of the Companion is as 
the jewels of the heart of the Emissary'?" 

He snorted. "It's probably a good thing I'm going to meet her or...I've 
been, well..." He darted his eyes around the front of the runabout. 
"Things have gotten a little strange." 

"By the way, I've just put the Yang Tse in tow. What do you mean 
strange?" 

"It's just - I don't know. It would be nice to meet someone who could 
care for me. Who would be able to care for me." 

"You're sure you haven't already?" Li murmured. 

"Hm?" 

"We should be docked already," he said more clearly. 

****** 

He peered at the face on the monitor. "Intelligence is certain of this, 
Admiral? It seems outlandish, given what we know of him." 

Barron shrugged. "Apparently it's common knowledge among members of the 
Obsidian Order. Nobody's quite sure as to why he was exiled; the common 
belief is that he wouldn't torture a child prisoner, but to be honest I 
doubt the Order had time for shenanigans like that on Bajor. I suspect 
the reason was more prosaic." 

"You'd think his father - Tain, is it? - would have just had him 
killed." Lapels my ass, Sisko thought. Like I ever believed that. 

"Would he have done that? Head of the Order or not, Garak is his son. 
Don't Cardassians have rather strict laws regarding the sanctity of the 
family?" 

"You said Garak's parents weren't married," Sisko said. "Illegitimate 
Cardassian children aren't covered by those laws. In fact, they don't 
even have the right to their own lives. Tain could kill him at any time 
without penalty." 

The admiral's face went pale. "Good heavens." He took a deep breath. 
"It does make you wonder why he let Garak live. You don't think he's a 
threat, then." 

"I don't know. He was useful to us in finding out who was behind The 
Circle. We might not have caught the connection between the Cardassian 
government and The Circle's leadership in time to prevent the coup if 
he hadn't made a comment about it to Mr. Eddington. But a threat? As an 
exile and as a non-person on Cardassia he's powerless, at least as 
regards the Obsidian Order, and I don't want to simply run him off the 
station if he could be of use to us. On the other hand, I have to 
wonder why Tain's let him live. He could be here as a plant." He paused 
for a second. "Admiral, I'd like to take some time to think about this, 
if you don't mind." 

"Let me know when you've decided. Barron out." 

****** 

"They're holding _who_ for ransom?" he asked as they ascended into Ops. 

Kira held up her hands. "They claim she's the daughter of a glinn who 
once worked on Terok Nor named Senn Dukat. I checked with Cardassia, 
but Central Command isn't being very helpful. They've promised they'll 
pass the message on but they won't tell me anything else." 

Sisko turned to Li Nalas. "Major, check the station records. We still 
have the old Cardassian personnel files saved somewhere, don't we?" 

"Probably. They didn't bother to wipe everything." He sat down at his 
terminal. "Give me a few minutes." 

"But why would the Maquis try to ransom a glinn's daughter?" Eddington 
asked from his terminal. "Is she from a wealthy family?" 

"That's what doesn't make sense," Kira said. "Most glinns are too young 
to have families. Are we sure she's not a glinn's sister or-" 

"Found him." Li called out. "Glinn Senn Dukat worked in the accounting 
department on Terok Nor for 25 years." 

Kira frowned as she walked over to look at Li's monitor. "A glinn for 
25 years? Hm. I don't recognize him. It says that he was convicted two 
years before the Occupation ended for 'crimes against the State'. I 
wonder what that means." 

"I'll bring up his conviction records." Li opened a new screen, then 
chuckled. "Apparently 'crimes against the State' include divorcing your 
wife to marry a Bajoran and diverting money from the station's 
entertainment budget to feed the Prefect's mistresses' children. The 
first might explain why he was never promoted past glinn."

Sisko sighed. "It sounds like this daughter may be the child of his 
Bajoran wife. If so, she's a Bajoran citizen, correct?" 

"Yes, and if she is the First Minister will expect us to do something 
about it," Kira said. "Captain, permission to take a team to - where 
did they say she was being held again?" She looked over at Eddington. 

"Dozaria, on the Breen border," he replied. An incoming comm button 
flashed. "We're getting a hail from a Senn Dukat." 

"Put him on screen," Sisko said. The face of an older yet dignified 
Cardassian came into view. "Glinn Dukat, I assume Central Command has 
advised you that the Maquis is holding your daughter for ransom?" 

The man nodded anxiously. "Just Mr. Dukat is fine - I'm sorry, I don't 
know your name-" 

"Captain Benjamin Sisko." 

"Sisko." He tried out a smile that didn't go anywhere, then he all but 
broke down. "Is it Ziyal? Did they say where she is? Is she safe? What 
about my wife? Is Naprem all right? I thought they were dead!" 

He held up a hand. "All we know, Mr. Dukat, is that a Maquis cell is 
claiming that they're holding a daughter of yours on the planet 
Dozaria. Do you know anything about this?" 

The man visibly pulled himself together, then nodded. "I sent my wife 
and daughter to that sector four and a half years ago. Events had made 
it necessary for them to leave Terok Nor - forgive me, Deep Space Nine 
- and, well, if you have any Bajorans on staff who remember Prefect 
Kerad you'll know why. I'd thought they'd be safe there." He looked 
down. "Shortly thereafter I was detained by the Central Command. They 
told me that Naprem and Ziyal had been killed in an accident. I've only 
recently regained my liberty, and now to hear that Ziyal might be 
alive-" He looked up at Sisko again. "I'm changing my plans, Captain, 
and travelling directly to Dozaria. I suppose the Gul I borrowed this 
transport from won't like it, but...thank you for the information. 
I'll-" 

"Mr. Dukat," Kira interrupted, "as a member of the Bajoran Militia I 
should advise you that I have a responsibility to ensure your 
daughter's safety. In fact, I was about to assemble a team to travel to 
Dozaria to rescue her." 

The Cardassian stared at her. "You'd do that?" 

"She's a Bajoran citizen. It's my duty." 

He nodded. "I'd appreciate your help. Thank you, um..." 

"Major Kira Nerys. I'll transmit co-ordinates to you once we're on our 
way." 

"Kira Nerys?" he repeated, dumbfounded. "Meru's daughter? Little Nerys? 
I remember her bringing in holos of you. You cut your hair." 

Kira stared at the viewscreen, equally dumbfounded. "You knew my 
mother?" 

"Only to speak with. I - forgive me. I'll meet up with your team in due 
course. Captain Sisko, I almost forgot; I'd appreciate it if you'd pass 
on a greeting to Mr. Garak for me. And again, thank you for the 
information. Dukat out." 

Kira glared at the viewscreen again, then shook her head. "Mr. 
Eddington, have the physician on duty meet us at Runabout Pad B in ten 
minutes." She strode briskly out of Ops. 

Sisko gave Li a look after the two officers had left. "What was that 
charge in Glinn Dukat's record?" 

"I believe it was, 'feeding the Prefect's mistresses' children', if I 
recall correctly." He bit his lower lip thoughtfully. 

****** 

He was walking down the hallway in the Habitat Ring when he spotted 
him. He was pacing back and forth nervously in front of someone's 
quarters -- Garak's, if Ben remembered correctly. He suddenly reached 
for the door chime but paused before pressing the button, then put his 
hand down again. 

"Doctor, are you well?" 

Julian jumped and spun around. "Yes, Captain, absolutely. Never 
better..." He looked back at Garak's door. "No." 

"If you're looking for Mr. Garak, he's still in his shop; I passed by 
there five minutes ago." He grinned. "Of course he could be following 
me and I'd never know it." 

The doctor tried a smile that didn't quite reach his warm hazel-brown 
eyes. "I don't know if I wanted to talk to him. It's just that - 
Captain, do you have a minute?" 

"Absolutely. I'm just on the way to my quarters; mind if we talk 
there?" Julian nodded; they walked down the corridor together. Ben 
watched the younger man's emotions play across his face. He had never 
seen a man so nervous in his life. "By the way, I've read your report 
on your, um, mission to visit Enabran Tain. That was a brave thing to 
do for a patient." 

"I suppose," Julian said as they entered the captain's quarters. "Of 
course at the time I didn't realize exactly who he was, and by the time 
I found out I was committed." He sighed. "Maybe I should be committed." 

"Please sit, Doctor." He gestured to the sofa before taking a seat 
himself in a nearby chair. Remember what his parents did to him, he 
told himself: he'll never see you as anything but his superior officer, 
and that's probably for the best. "Why do you say that?" 

Julian looked around at the walls of the living room for a full ten 
seconds before replying. "Captain, could you...be with somebody you 
didn't love or trust if it was important for them?" 

"Um...no, no I don't think I could," he replied, startled. "Is this 
about you and Mr. Garak?" 

"He -- after I removed the implant, he had problems adjusting to his 
own natural endorphin levels. He became violent and threw things around 
for a while, said he hated me and hated living on the station..." 

"That was in your report." 

"...but then later on -- I'm sorry, sir, I didn't put this in the 
report -- he came to me and apologized. He told me he didn't hate me at 
all, that he was just so tired of being lonely and of me not noticing 
him. He told me that in reality he loved me," 

Bastard. 

"that he had loved me from the first day we met," 

Absolute bastard. 

"and that he thought I was the most beautiful man he had ever seen," 

Hanging would be too good for him. 

"and that he wanted to take me to bed-" 

Drawing and quartering sounded about right. 

"-and make me his lover." 

And hanging the dismembered parts from the upper pylons. 

"So you were waiting for Mr. Garak today..." 

Julian looked down at his hands. His voice was so low as to be nearly 
indistinct. "I was going to say yes." 

"Doctor," Ben began, ignoring his sudden urge to put the Cardassian 
through a meat grinder, "I understand that as a physician your first 
instinct is to help, but just because somebody has feelings for you 
doesn't mean you have to return them, either emotionally or physically. 
You have to think about what's best for you. This is the wrong thing to 
do, especially if you're unable to have feelings of that kind for Mr. 
Garak." 

"It's not that easy." 

He took a different tack. "Julian, when you say 'It's not that easy', 
are you talking about your parents' actions when you were a child?" 

Julian gave Ben a look of utter despair. "You know." He stood up and 
started pacing around the living room. "I should have guessed you 
would. After all, the police sent my records through you." 

Records? What would - but perhaps it had been done at school. He hadn't 
really looked at the documents the Euro Police had sent, though. "Where 
did you have the-" 

Julian interrupted him. "You haven't told anyone, sir?" he blurted out. 
"You haven't turned me in?" 

He was nonplussed. "Turn you in? You didn't choose to go through it; 
you were five years old." He wondered why the man was so frantic. 
"Doctor, if it will make you feel more secure, I give you my word I 
won't mention this to anyone." 

He gave Ben a wild-eyed stare. "Sir, I can't ask you to do that." 

"You didn't ask me. I volunteered." 

He looked at him for another good minute, then finally said, "I don't 
know why you're doing this, sir, but thank you." He flopped back down 
on the sofa. 

"Where did you have the procedure?" Ben asked again. 

"A place called Adigeon Prime. They couldn't do it in the Federation, 
of course." 

Strange: he remembered the FNN documentary mentioning that the 
procedures had been secretly done in so-called "therapy centres" on 
Earth under ancient freedom of religion statutes. 

"The doctors and geneticists-" 

Geneticists? 

"-couldn't operate under Federation laws, and of course enhancements-" 

Enhancements? 

"-are illegal, but what am I supposed to do? I didn't ask for it to be 
done-" 

GENETIC ENHANCEMENTS?!? 

Ben reeled. He had thought that Julian had been -- no, he had assumed, 
and had given Julian Bashir his word based on that false assumption. He 
looked over at the young man, but he was staring at the carpet and 
hadn't noticed Ben's lapse. He forced himself to relax, to pull himself 
together. Shit. You gave your word: it was your fault you made that 
assumption, but you gave your word to Julian and you're going to keep 
it. Sisko men keep their word no matter what. 

And suddenly a tiny ray of hope burst forth in his soul. 

"-but if they hadn't done it, I'd be this clumsy, short, not very 
bright, rather ugly little man probably cleaning out an elephant cage 
in a zoo somewhere. I wouldn't be who I am today." 

But what would this have to do with -- of course. 

"You're concerned that Mr. Garak could find out." 

Julian looked up at him. "He could get me to tell him anything he 
wanted to, sir. I doubt they enhanced my ability to withstand an 
interrogation, even a gentle one, by a former member of the Obsidian 
Order." 

"Probably not," Ben said. "You're worried that if he found out he could 
use the information against you." Julian nodded wordlessly. "Then why 
are you even considering it?" 

"He's lonely." Julian sighed. "I'm lonely. I -- do you know what it 
feels like to have nobody who really cares whether you live or die? I 
don't mean colleagues or acquaintances, sir; I mean someone who loves 
you?" He stood and walked to the viewport. "I'm sure that if there were 
an accident, you'd have a lovely service here and send my body out in a 
torpedo tube, but a week later there'd be a new CMO and everything 
would go on as usual." 

No it wouldn't, Ben ached to tell him. He ached to hold him, to tell 
him how much he really was cherished, needed -- 

-- loved. 

There. He admitted it. But he wasn't going to burden Julian with that 
right now. The last thing the man needed was another emotion dump. 

"It appears to me," Ben said, picking his words carefully, "that you're 
overwhelmed. Your parents have died, you've found out your father is 
being investigated and this secret could come out, and suddenly out of 
the blue Mr. Garak almost dies, forces you to confront the head of the 
Obsidian Order, dumps all this emotional baggage on you, and then tells 
you that he loves you. That's a lot to deal with. It would be very easy 
to grasp at an emotional crutch right now, but would it be the right 
thing to do?" He moved to stand behind Julian. "I think you should 
return to your quarters and decide what you want. Not Mr. Garak, not 
anybody else. You." 

Julian turned around. "And what if I can't have what I want? What if I 
end up making a fool out of myself again?" 

Their eyes met. Oh Prophets. 

"You don't know if that's the case," Ben managed to say over the waves 
of wild irrational hope and joy that threatened to overwhelm him. "But 
until you can figure out what you want calmly and rationally without 
being influenced by anyone else, no matter who that person is, you 
don't know if you're going to be making the right decision for you." 

"You're right." He looked away. "You're right. I - I should go now." 

"Yes." 

He turned to leave. "Thank you, Captain." 

"Julian, before you go...when you asked me to get your records and 
photographs -- was that the only evidence?" 

He smiled mirthlessly. "The only evidence in the Federation outside my 
own body. The 'school records' that showed I was developmentally 
disabled -- well, borderline -- were actually from tests I took on 
Adigeon Prime. My parents kept copies. Everything else is in the hands 
of people who have far more to lose from this than even I do." 

"What could you lose? You didn't choose this." 

"Other than my commission, my medical license, and my Federation 
citizenship? Oh, not much. Even knowing of somebody who's been enhanced 
and not reporting it is a serious felony." He looked back. "I told you, 
Captain, you shouldn't have given me your word." 

Ben watched the doors close behind him. Yes, he would keep his word, 
and he would protect Julian. At that moment he didn't care if Julian 
had been genetically enhanced and he didn't much care if knowing that 
made him a felon: all he could think was, he had a chance. 

But he had to get rid of Garak. 

"Computer, send a message to Admiral Barron's office. Advise his 
assistant that I'd like to speak with the Admiral at his convenience." 

******
******
******

And there was his answer, he thought, as he watched the kranta fish 
squirm through the narrow stream. Normally they couldn't make it 
between the two ponds, but the rains had flooded the passage between 
the two and the little green fish were taking advantage of the 
opportunity. 

He hadn't paid much attention to Julian Bashir's private life in the 
old timeline. What had caused his parents to cancel his visit with them 
in this one? Maybe his life hadn't been as interesting to them without 
his adventures in the Gamma Quadrant to relate, or maybe Julian hadn't 
had a reason to go home against his parents' wishes. Maybe - well, who 
knows, he thought. But their deaths had changed Julian immensely, just 
as his separation from Jennifer had changed him. He hadn't wallowed for 
years in depression after the break-up as he had after her death. 
Instead, like the passage between the pond, he had opened up. He 
chuckled; look what had swum in. 

He suspected that everyone else had seen it long before either of them 
had noticed a thing. Bringing Julian home-cooked meals when he was 
looking after Li Nalas; gabbling about Julian this and Julian that to 
Kira when she returned from the monastery; he and Julian sitting next 
to each other at that baseball game in the holosuite, their knees 
brushing as Kira asked question after question; the two of them 
standing over Bareil's body, smiling at each other, their hands almost 
touching (what a horrible place to flirt, he thought with a shudder). 
In retrospect it seemed obvious, but at the time it had felt friendly - 
at least until that day in the Infirmary. If it hadn't been for 
Curzon's advice, he would have likely kissed Julian right then and 
there. And good advice it was, except that it didn't really apply when 
you fell in love. 

He wondered if Julian had known of the feelings Ben had held for him by 
that time. The look they had shared in his quarters that evening... 

"Hey." 

He looked up to find Julian sitting next to him. "Hey." 

"One of the acolytes was saying that the kranta are only able to breed 
when the ponds flow together. Apparently the pH levels of the ponds 
equalize out and the eggs are able to survive." Julian touched the 
water's surface with his toe; three fish swam up to investigate. 
"They're not afraid." 

"The vedeks are vegetarians. What do they have to fear?" They both 
smiled. 

Julian put his arm around Ben's shoulders. "So what happened today?" 

He shrugged. "Li Nalas saved my life. Bareil died. I fell in love with 
you. Just another day with the Orb of Time." 

"Any idea yet why they're putting you through this?" 

He watched one of the fish dart through the passage. "Yes and no. I am 
learning something out of it all, but I suspect the real lesson will 
come at the end. I'm not sure why the Prophets are picking these 
specific memories." 

That wasn't completely true, he thought. He suspected that the Prophets 
were in part showing him how dependent he must have been on them in the 
old timeline. They must have been behind his posting to Deep Space 
Nine, since he certainly hadn't been fit to command a space station on 
his own. Hell, from what he'd seen he hadn't been fit to command a 
replicator. Not only had Eddington been using the station to equip the 
Maquis without his knowledge for over a year; not only had the Dominion 
replaced Julian with a Founder for two whole months without anyone even 
noticing; not only did Dukat, an enemy combatant, repeatedly defeat 
station security and show up whenever and wherever he damned well 
pleased; but it now seemed that his station CMO had been conducting an 
affair with the son of the head of the Obsidian Order under his very 
nose. 

He remembered the night in question: he had seen Julian pacing in the 
Habitat Ring but, more concerned about Jake's latest science project, 
he hadn't paid much attention. If he had bothered to read between the 
lines of that 'mission' report he should have seen it. So Julian had 
probably slept with Garak in that timeline, out of loneliness, physical 
need, fear...terrible reasons, given the secret he had been harbouring 
and the possible danger to him had it been revealed. 

"You still there?" Julian asked. 

"Mm. Just thinking." He leaned against Julian. "Do you ever wonder how 
things would be different if you could just make one small change to 
the past?" 

"Me and a million science-fiction writers. I loved Marinder Gupta's 
books when I was in secondary school. Jake seemed to like them too." 

"Yes, but they always deal with big things like 'what if Rome hadn't 
fallen' or 'what if Colonel Green hadn't been assassinated.' Going back 
like this I wonder about the little things." 

Julian held him tighter. "Like if we hadn't fallen in love? It's 
possible, I suppose, but I'd still like to think we'd have found each 
other." 

"Me too," Sisko said, a touch of sadness in his voice. 

******

Chapter 9
 
******

His walk to reach the Orb of Time took him by a lovely shaded chapel 
cut into a rock facade. Open to the elements, it was ringed by 
evergreen bushes and tall, profuse flowering plants similar to Earth 
hollyhocks. This must be where the Orb of Prophecy and Change is kept, 
he thought. A much more fitting place for an Orb than the dingy 
storeroom in which the Orb he was consulting was currently being held. 
Then again, the monastery had been given less than a week in which to 
find a place to put it before he had shown up on their doorstep. They 
had barely had time to set up the appropriate force fields. 

He settled himself on the storeroom floor and opened the cabinet. 

******
******
******

One, two, three, four, five steps to the northwest corner. 

One, two, three, four, five steps back to the northeast corner. 

He supposed they really weren't 'northwest' and 'northeast' per se 
given that the room was located on a space station which revolved 
around the planet Bajor, but it was easier for him to think of them 
that way. It brought order to his mind. He liked order. 

He didn't like this at all. 

One, two, three, four, five steps to the northwest corner. 

One, two, three-- 

The door chimed. "Enter." 

Dax popped her head in the door. "Still up?" 

"Apparently so." He gestured to her. "Come in. Raktajino?" 

"Actually," she said as she sat in the big chair, "I wouldn't mind some 
of that Saurian brandy if you have any left. No news, I take it?" 

He shook his head as he opened the cabinet. "Nothing. We're not at the 
point where I feel justified in sending out a rescue party, but-" He 
poured the amber liquid into two glasses, reached for a cube of ice, 
then hesitated and turned around. "Curzon took ice in his brandy. I 
just realized that I've always assumed you prefer it that way. Do you?" 

"I'm not fussy, but if you're asking I prefer it neat. I've always 
thought ice in brandy was a blasphemy." 

He chuckled as he handed her the glass. "Don't tell him, but I think so 
too." His smile slipped as he looked out the viewport. 

She gave him a sympathetic look. "You're missing Curzon, aren't you." 

"I need somebody to talk to about this." He looked helplessly at her. 
"It's just -- he's my subordinate, he's twelve years my junior, he's - 
there are things I can't even talk about, even with you, and every 
instinct of mine as a Starfleet officer is telling me to walk away from 
this, but I don't care. I know Curzon said never to get involved with a 
subordinate, and now I see why." 

"He meant as a fling. Curzon wasn't very good with love from what I 
remember." She smiled. "One thing I do remember is you pacing back and 
forth in his front room for two hours telling him why you shouldn't get 
involved with Jennifer." 

He scowled. "That was different." 

"How?" 

"Because I was never forced to order Jennifer into a situation where 
she could get killed. I never had to wait like this for her." 

"No, but you did bring Jennifer and Jake onto the Saratoga. If they 
hadn't been in the fresher room when the attack started..." 

He sighed. "You don't have to remind me about that. It's not the same." 

"You're right," she replied. "Jennifer didn't go through the Medical 
Academy. She didn't have two years of training in hand-to-hand combat." 

"Are you trying to make this difficult for me?" 

"I'm trying to make it easy for you. The point I'm trying to make is 
that life can be dangerous no matter which path you take." She leaned 
forward. "Ben, I know you have a lot of doubts. But you had a lot of 
doubts with Jennifer and 95% of them were groundless. Tell me this. 
You're 40 years old. How many long-term relationships have you been 
in?" 

"Ever?" He looked at her sheepishly. "Two." 

"Exactly. I've heard you talk yourself out of relationships time and 
again before they even start. I don't know why, since you're not like 
that in any other area of your life." She finished her brandy. "Most of 
my hosts had regrets when they died. None of them ever regretted being 
in love, but a few of them regretted not pursuing a relationship with 
someone they cared about. I don't remember any of them expressing any 
great pride at having followed regulations to the letter." 

He looked down into his glass. "I suppose you're right." 

"Ops to Captain Sisko." 

"Yes, Major?" He sat up. 

"Mr. Eddington's just checked in. The Lena's suffered minor damage but 
should be back at the station in approximately six hours. He reports no 
casualties." 

He let out the breath he had been holding. "Understood. Sisko out." 

****** 

What a morning, he thought sourly over his fifth cup of coffee. 

He glared across his desk at his new intelligence officer. She was a 
short, thin, plain Andorian woman, somewhat closed off as was the norm 
for her people. "I'd like your opinion of what's going on right now on 
Cardassia." 

She returned his gaze placidly. "For the past three months there have 
been rumours about a possible coup being planned by the Detapa Council 
against the Central Command. However, shortly before transmissions from 
the Empire went dark twenty-four hours ago, Signal Intelligence picked 
up a number of broadcasts on frequencies known to be used by the 
Central Command's own intelligence service. From the transmissions 
SigInt was able to intercept, it appears as if Command may have staged 
a pre-emptive coup against the Council itself." 

"That's not good. Officially I suppose we don't care who wins, but 
unofficially...." He waved a hand. 

"Officially and unofficially, sir, any amount of instability is bad for 
the Federation. Whichever faction wins won't have enough strength to 
completely defeat the loser." She pursed her lips. "We can look forward 
to coup after coup, probably with the help of the Obsidian Order which 
will as usual act in its own best interests. The instability could lead 
to a sector-wide civil war that could eventually involve Bajor and even 
the non-aligned planets." 

What a mess, he thought. "Could the Order take control of the 
government on its own?" 

"The Order isn't strong enough to control Cardassia on its own and 
hasn't been since the retirement of Enabran Tain. Unfortunately, Tain 
can't return to the Order, at least not in his previous role." 

He glared out the viewport in the general direction of Cardassia. It 
seemed that whatever government took power would bode no good for the 
Federation. "Can nothing be done?" 

"Not in the short term. Right now the population is certain of itself. 
They feel they are invincible. In six months to a year they'll likely 
tire of the uncertainty and instability that the constant upheavals 
will bring to them. We may be able to effect beneficial change at that 
time." 

He gave her a sharp look. "Are you talking about breaking the Prime 
Directive? Because-" 

"We can break the Prime Directive or we can allow a war to begin that 
could cause the deaths of a billion sentient beings, including possibly 
ourselves. I believe the former is preferable," she said bluntly. 
"However, it could be argued that providing information gathered by a 
Cardassian to a Cardassian wouldn't be considered a violation of the 
Prime Directive. Were Enabran Tain to know of the corruption that took 
place inside the Central Command and the Empire's subsequent 
bankruptcy, I believe he could be encouraged to return to power. He is 
the Empire's best hope." 

"Tain? That old reprobate?" 

"As I said, he can't return to the Order in his previous role, but he's 
one of the few men powerful enough to bring stability to the Empire. He 
has an army of loyal agents behind him. Central Command fears him. The 
Detapa Council owes him a great deal. He actually does care more about 
the state than about lining his own pockets or bolstering his own ego. 
The general populace doesn't for the most part know who he is, but they 
do recognize his family name. The Tains ruled over Kilana province for 
over 5,000 years. Even if his link to the Obsidian Order were to become 
known, the average Cardassian wouldn't feel the same loathing as we in 
the Federation would for any analogous organization, were one to exist 
here." 

He drummed his fingers on his desk. "I'm not sure if messing around in 
Cardassian politics is a good idea, even if it were possible," he said. 
"Let me think about it. I have another job for you first. You've no 
doubt noticed the Cardassian tailor on station, Elim Garak." 

"Enabran Tain's son." 

"Yes. He's been an asset to the Federation, and for reasons I don't 
want to go into I don't want him thrown to the wolves. Unfortunately, 
he has become a disruptive force on the station in some ways." 

"May I ask in which ways?" 

He squirmed slightly in his chair. "His attitude towards Dr. Bashir has 
made it difficult for the doctor. He is somewhat, shall we say, ardent 
in his attentions and it's gotten a bit out of hand. Yesterday Julian 
returned to his quarters after a 17-hour shift only to find his front 
room filled halfway to the ceiling with jevonia blossoms." 

Thras stared, then covered her mouth with her fist. "Oh, my." She 
finally broke out in laughter. "You know, Captain, if my bondspouses 
had done things like that I wouldn't have divorced them -- but I 
suppose Mr. Garak's actions weren't terribly appropriate under the 
circumstances." 

"The doctor had to return to the Infirmary so he could sleep. Three 
days earlier Garak showed up at his quarters at 2000 with a nine-course 
Cardassian meal. Julian asked me to talk to him, but of course that was 
about as useful as talking to the wall. Garak just got all closed off 
and evasive." 

"Would you like me to speak with him?" she asked, smiling faintly. "I 
have some experience with Obsidian Order agents, how they think. 
Perhaps I can get through to him." 

"If you think it would help, by all means. I suspect, though, that 
he'll eventually have to leave the station." And the sooner the better, 
he thought. 

"It might. And in respect of removing him from the station...allow me 
to conduct some research in that matter, sir. I think we may be able to 
reach two objectives with one operation." 

****** 

"Why do we need to bring all this? Why not just replicate the drugs 
when we get to the hospital?" he asked as he helped Julian carry the 
last cases of medicines into the runabout. 

"Actually, we can't, sir," Julian replied, all business. "The 
hospital's replicators aren't sophisticated enough to produce 
antiprionics." 

Ben realized he should ask himself why he had volunteered to go with 
Julian to Derna when anybody could have gone with him. Hell, Julian 
could have gone alone, but Ben had concocted a story about wanting to 
visit a prylar who ministered to the miners. Nobody had second-guessed 
him, at least not openly, although he thought he had seen a twinkle in 
Jadzia's eye. 

"But why so many?" he asked as they took off from the runabout pad. "I 
count almost 25 kilos of hyposprays alone." 

"That's the problem with Cardassian prionic encephalitis," he replied. 
"The amount of drugs required for each patient is enormous. Each 
patient has to receive six rounds of five different antiprionics daily 
for 21 days plus antivirals and antibiotics to kill off opportunistic 
infections..." 

Julian described the drugs that would be needed to save the lives of 
the terbilide miners, his long, elegant fingers aiding him in making 
points. 

"...although it was originally a Cardassian pathogen, it's easily able 
to infect Bajorans because of the similarities in the species' immune 
systems. It attaches itself to nerve endings, then migrates to ganglia 
and..." 

The doctor was so animated when he spoke about medicine. So dedicated 
to duty. He wondered if Julian sometimes discounted his own good looks 
as nothing but his geneticists' dedication to their duty. 

"...I'm hoping Dr. Marrin and her staff can get them back on their feet 
within 28 days. It's not an easy road at this point, but with adequate 
physiotherapy and..." 

His eyes sparkled when he talked about how he hoped the miners would 
recover. Ben wondered how brightly they would sparkle in the throes- 

An alarm beeped on the navigational console. Sisko, you idiot, he 
chided himself: how brightly would they sparkle after being splattered 
across half a square kilometre of lunar landscape? He carefully steered 
the Yukon into the colony's hospital landing bay. "I'd like to spend 
some time with Prylar Sarra," he said to Julian, bringing himself back 
to reality. "How long do you think you'll be?" 

Julian thought for a moment. "I estimate about two hours? I'll comm you 
when I'm done." 

** 

They met ninety minutes later. "Dr. Marrin thinks she'll be able to 
save them all. One of the patients was touch-and-go but he's responding 
well." 

"I'm glad to hear it. Are there any concerns of this spreading beyond 
the system?" 

"I'm afraid it's already done that," Julian said as he took his seat in 
the runabout. "The pathogen's endemic in the sector. Since the disease 
is transmissible to certain Federation races, I'm going to make a 
funding proposal to Starfleet Medical for research into an 
immunization. It'll likely get greenlighted faster that way." He 
sighed. "Not really fair, is it?" 

"No, but given the biowarfare emergency in the Andorian sectors you can 
see their logic." He plotted their course - off Derna, then through the 
Denorios belt, past the wormhole, then a swing around Bajor and finally 
the station - fed the co-ordinates into the navigational console, then 
turned to his companion. "I was impressed with your dedication to the 
mission today. You were very determined." 

The doctor smiled wryly. "Thank you, sir, but the phrase my nurses use 
is 'bull-headed with a one-track mind'. They get annoyed at me because 
I lose track of time and forget to go back to my quarters. My new night 
nurse, Lepara, has been complaining about finding me asleep at my desk 
at 0300 hours." 

"That kind of dedication saves lives. I'm not going to complain about 
it." He made a slight course correction as they passed through the 
Belt. "How are you doing otherwise? Have you been able to work out that 
matter we discussed last month?" 

He flushed. "For the most part, yes. He hasn't given up; I'm not sure 
if he ever will. It helps that he's found somebody else to eat lunch 
with. At least he doesn't underestimate me now." 

"He's a fool if he ever did. What about the rest of what we talked 
about?" 

"I, um, I don't know. I know what I want, but..." His blush grew even 
deeper. "After Jadzia..." 

Ben decided to take a chance. Reaching over, he covered Julian's hand 
with his own. "In my opinion Dax was a fool too." 

The younger man looked up; their eyes met; Ben's heart sang. He is 
interested. I was right. Oh yes. 

Julian's hand turned, gave his an answering squeeze. "So I'm not making 
an idiot of myself?" he said softly. 

He gave Julian what he hoped was a confident smile. "Maybe we both are. 
I'm willing to take that chance. Come over for dinner tonight. 2030 
hours?" He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

"All right." He smiled - gods, that wonderful shy smile of his. "I 
suppose we're breaking every fraternization law on the books." 

"I can't see that it matters. We're both felons already." They shared 
another smile. On an impulse he reached out and caressed Julian's cheek 
softly. They leaned towards each other slowly, tentatively, their lips 
almost touching... 

Suddenly the navigational panel came alive with a blare of buzzes and 
beeps. "What the-" he heard Julian say. 

He turned to the console. "We're being pulled off course. Attempting to 
compensate; propulsion is offline." He hailed the station. "Yukon to 
Ops: we've-" and the wormhole opened, and the joy of the Prophets 
entered his mind. 

** 

"Hand me the hypospray with the thin blue stripe." 

"This one?" Kira's voice. 

He opened his eyes. Julian, looking worried and agitated, was kneeling 
over him holding the hypo to his neck while a confused Major Kira 
assisted him. 

"Emissary, are you all right?" Kira asked. 

He slowly pushed himself up from the runabout cot to a sitting 
position. "Kira, I, um -- I'm better than I usually am." His voice was 
harsh. 

"I was able to stabilize your vitals when you were in the trance," 
Julian said. "I hate to think what must happen when you're in there 
alone. Your heartrate dipped to 35 at one point." 

Kira handed him a glass of water. "Did the Prophets have anything to 
say, Emissary?" 

He took a drink. "I was chasing a man for what seemed like hours," he 
said, trying to concentrate. "I couldn't see his face, just his back. I 
think he was Cardassian. We were running in circles through the streets 
of the most beautiful city I've ever seen. It seemed as if we were 
getting nowhere. Suddenly an older man gave him a pair of wings, and he 
and the older man turned to gold. Then they both became eagles and flew 
away. The strange part was, I had made their wings." He finished the 
water. "How did you get here, Major?" 

"When we saw the Temple open we assumed you had left Dr. Bashir on 
Derna and were alone on the runabout. I took the Ganges and beamed over 
once you emerged." She stared at Julian, who was still visibly 
trembling. "Doctor, are you all right?" 

Julian stared at her like a wounded deer. "Yes, Major, certainly I'm 
fine, absolutely..." He swallowed convulsively. "No. I - I need to talk 
to somebody about this. One of them, one of the aliens, the Prophets, I 
saw him. He looked just like me. He spoke to me. He knew my birth 
name." 

"You spoke with a Prophet-" She paled. "Julian, I think Li should call 
Bajor about this." She stood, then turned back. "Your birth name?" 

"My given name. I changed it when I was fifteen. He knew it. He called 
me 'the Jules of the heart of the Emissary.'" He looked up at her. "How 
did he know my birth name was Jules?" 

She blinked and took a step backwards. "Blessed Prophets. I'll, um, get 
us back to the station." 

** 

He looked at the chronometer. 2215 hours. It was clear that for 
whatever reason, Julian hadn't kept their date that evening. 

He smiled to himself as he recycled the cold entrée. A date. I finally 
had the guts to ask him out. Didn't turn out as I had planned, but then 
again after what had happened- 

The door chimed. "Come." 

A subdued Julian Bashir walked in. "I'm sorry I'm late. I've just 
spent-" and he took in the half-recycled dinner. "How late am I? I 
wasn't paying attention to the time." 

"Almost two hours." 

"Oh hell; you must be furious." He flushed red. 

He touched Julian's arm. "It's all right. Where have you been? Sit 
down." He guided Julian to the sofa. "Would you like a drink?" 

"No. Yes." He swallowed. "Oh, damn, I don't know. I've just spent three 
hours being lectured to by the Kai." 

"What? The Kai? She messaged you?" 

He looked up at Ben. "No, she came to the station to talk to me in 
person. Kira or Li must have called her." He sighed. "I'm not on call; 
I suppose I could use that drink."

"Saurian brandy, coming up." He opened the cabinet and pulled out two 
glasses. "Why would she come all the way here to-" and he turned to 
Julian, bottle in hand. "Horran's Prophecies." His mouth went dry. The 
Companion. Why hadn't he thought of- 

"That's what she said. She mentioned the twenty-seventh prophecy a 
number of times, but there were others." Julian accepted the glass from 
Ben and moved over to give him room to sit beside him. "I don't know 
what this all means. She grabbed my ear, held on to it for two minutes 
while she talked to me, told me I had a strong pagh -- I didn't even 
know I _had_ a pagh -- and talked to me on and on about things. About 
you."

Ben looked at Julian sympathetically. "It's not fun being in somebody 
else's holy books, is it?" 

"No. I guess you already know about that." 

Ben sat, quietly fuming. If Opaka had screwed this up for him, he would 
never forgive her. He put down his glass and took Julian's free hand in 
his. "Can I give you some advice? Put it in the back of your mind and 
lock it away. Don't let it rule your life." 

"How am I supposed to 'lock it away' when I-" He gazed into Ben's eyes. 

"You just have to tell yourself that you're on this station because of 
Starfleet, not for the benefit of another planet's religion. That's 
what I tell myself. Sometimes the Prophets call me, but most of the 
time I'm here because I have a job to do and because I want to be 
here." He squeezed Julian's hand and moved a little closer. "Julian, 
tell me -- not lieutenant to captain but Julian to Ben -- why are you 
here now? In this room. Because Opaka sent you?" 

Julian's eyes grew soft. "No. I'm here because I want to be here with 
you. I don't care what Opaka thinks. I care what you think. You. Ben." 
He blushed at the unusual familiarity. "I need to know that you've 
thought this through, that you're ready for this." 

"I have. In fact," he admitted, "I've thought it over so much I've 
almost talked myself out of it a few times. In fact, the first time I 
consciously thought about you as more than a colleague it scared the 
hell out of me." 

"When was that?" 

"When I ripped my hand up in the holosuite." 

"Good grief." He smiled. "For me - well, I had feelings before that 
horrible night when I was about to give myself to Garak. I was so 
stupid -- how could I have ever considered..." He shook his head. "But 
when I looked into your eyes that night I realized you felt something 
for me as well, and it didn't involve a need to control me or dominate 
me. Do you have any idea of how much I wanted to make love to you at 
that moment?" They moved closer. 

"Do you have any idea of how wrong that would have been?" 

"Would it be so very wrong tonight?" Julian murmured. 

This time their kiss wasn't interrupted. 

****** 

"The Maquis have taken up defensive positions in the Badlands and along 
the corridor between the Dorvan and Ichara systems." Admiral Barron 
pointed out the main formations on the viewscreen. "Cardassian assets 
have taken a number of hits from these positions, but all the Maquis 
efforts have done is to strengthen the Central Command government's 
resolve. They've started to build up forces around Castara, just 
outside the DMZ area." 

"Do you think they're going to remilitarize the area?" Sisko asked. 

"That's the most likely possibility. It's what I would do in Kerad's 
position. The Maquis are no longer restricting their attacks to 
military targets, so the Command has a legitimate reason to 
remilitarize. That does mean, though, that Bajor and Deep Space Nine 
are now imperilled by both the Maquis and Cardassia." He clicked the 
pointer; the schematics of a ship came up on the viewscreen. "You'll 
remember the Defiant, the ship we discussed back when you were at the 
Academy." 

He frowned. "I remember saying it was overpowered and would tear itself 
apart during its shakedown cruise." 

"They've gone back to the drawing board at Antares and redesigned it." 
He zoomed in on the bridge of the schematics. "The new Defiant is 
better balanced. They've also added a double layer of ablative armour 
hull plating and extra phaser banks as well as double the number of 
photon torpedo bays." 

He studied the drawing. "A tough little thing." 

"Almost a mini-warship. But the neat thing is here." He zoomed back out 
and pointed to the aft end of the ship. "It carries a cloaking device. 
We've had a few come into our possession in the Andoria sector. Can't 
use them there; the Romulans can penetrate their own cloaks. I think 
you'll find it useful." 

****** 

"Good afternoon, Captain. Mind if I join you?" 

"Not at all, Major. Please take a seat." 

Li Nalas sat at the small table in the upper area of Quark's. "You're 
not expecting a guest?" 

"No," Sisko replied absentmindedly. "It's just that with the replicator 
in my office being down I thought I might have lunch here for a change. 
Any news on when repairs to the Replimat will be completed?" 

He shook his head. "There was a lot of damage. Thank the Prophets the 
explosion happened at 0330 and not during a main meal hour." 

"Still, nine serious injuries. Eddington says the bomb was likely of 
Maquis origin." 

They looked down into the main area of Quark's where security officers 
were erecting screening devices around the entrances. "Do you think 
that'll do any good?" Li asked. 

"They won't stop a bomber, but they might discourage one. I think, 
though, that last night's excitement was meant as a warning. If they 
had really meant to cause damage they would have set it off during the 
day." 

"A warning about what?" 

Sisko shrugged. "I don't know. That's what worries me. It seems the 
Maquis are causing as much damage to Federation targets as to 
Cardassian ones these days." 

"I've transferred crews away from the ore processing area renovation 
project," Li said. "The new reception complex will be delayed by a week 
or so." 

"Can't be helped. Have you seen the specs on the Defiant?" 

"I have. Beautiful ship. Why are they giving it to us?" 

"No idea." 

Sisko watched Ziyal Dukat take a seat beside Kira Nerys. "Kira's taking 
a real interest in that young girl." 

"She says Ziyal's a joy to have around. You'd think spending four years 
in a Breen work camp would take the blush off the rose, but she's the 
sweetest young girl you'd want to know. I only wish there were more 
young people her age around here for her to meet." 

"When does she go back home?" 

"Next week. Must be difficult. Her father adores her, but..." 

The Ferengi waiter approached them and they ordered. "By the way," Li 
said, "have you noticed that the Bajoran bookshop is bringing in 
romance novels from Earth now? The dabo girls love them." 

"How interesting," he said in the flattest monotone he could muster. 

"Mm-hmm. Apparently there's a 48-volume series called, 'The Captain and 
the CMO.' Very popular." 

He fixed Li with a skunk eye. "And they're selling these on my 
station?" he asked sourly. 

"Mm, and on every planet, station, ship and starbase in the Federation, 
apparently. The bookseller says it's the most popular romance series of 
the century. Apparently it's an archetype. Although I don't believe any 
of the books feature a captain who walks around all day long with a 
silly grin plastered on his face-" 

"Major." 

"-or a CMO who walks into doorjambs while daydreaming about his 
captain-" 

"Major." 

"or a captain and CMO who get caught by deputies necking in a turbolift 
at 2530-" 

"Corporal." 

"Now, Captain, you know you don't have the power to demote me. And they 
are very, um, interesting novels, or so I've been told." 

He sighed. "I take your point, Major. I'll talk to Julian." 

Li looked back down into Quark's as their meal was delivered. "Thras 
seems to be spending a lot of time these days with Garak." 

He watched the couple talk animatedly. Strange, he thought, how Thras's 
antennae always pointed towards Garak when she spoke with him. She 
didn't do that to anybody else. Was that a sign of distrust? "They have 
a lot in common," he said to Li. "They both are or were intelligence 
officers, they're both the only members of their species on the 
station, and both their homeworlds are in unstable regions. They make a 
cute couple." 

"Mm-hmm." Li looked up at Sisko, raised his brows, then tucked into his 
hasperat. 

****** 

He answered the terminal. "Dad!" he cried. "How are you?" 

Joseph Sisko smiled. "Son. The doctors say I'm doing much better. We're 
under a tropical storm warning here." A flash behind the elder Sisko 
confirmed his words. "Looks like a bad one. Judith's downstairs closing 
everything up, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to call you, see 
how everything's going." 

"You heard from Jake." He had just received a letter from his son with 
the news. 

"From Jennifer, actually. She and Marcus Bertram came to visit me night 
before last. I suppose she wanted to break the news to me herself. 
Decent thing to do, but she's always been a decent person to me." 

"What did you think about this Marcus Bertram? If he's going to be 
Jake's stepfather, I'd like to meet him, but with the situation here I 
can't get away." 

"I heard. Do you think you'll be safe?" 

He gave his father a confident look. "We'll be fine. I don't know if 
Jake should come out this summer, though. About Marcus Bertram?" 

Joseph shrugged. "He seems like a good enough sort. Teaches structural 
engineering at some university in Europe. Smart man." He nodded sagely. 
"Tastes his food before salting it. Jake likes him a lot, and if you 
want my opinion I'd say you should trust Jake. He's growing up to be a 
good judge of character." He paused for a second. "He's thinking about 
Starfleet, you know." 

"He told me. Funny, he doesn't think much of Deep Space Nine, but he 
was really impressed with the starships he travelled on." He laughed. 
"How's Judith handling being a grandmother?" 

"Fine. She dyed her hair red. But listen, Ben, how are you doing? I 
worry about you alone out there. Seems Jennifer's gotten on with her 
life but you haven't." 

"I wanted to talk to you about that, Dad. I've, um, met somebody." 

His father beamed. "Really? What's her name? What's she like? Where did 
you meet her? On that space station?" 

"Actually, his name is Julian Bashir, and he's the station's chief 
medical officer." 

His eyes widened. "Oh. You're seeing..." 

"Yes, father, I am." 

"....My God." 

"Do you have a problem with this? Because..." 

"No, son, not at all. It's just that - your mother would have been very 
surprised to find out you were dating a doctor." He paused. "Her father 
was a doctor, you know, and his mother before him. In fact I think 
she'd be darn pleased. How serious is this relationship, son?" 

"I think it's serious." He looked at his father. "You're sure you don't 
have any problems with this otherwise?" 

Joseph snorted. "Benjamin, do you by any vague stretch of the 
imagination remember a young man named Henri Boudreaux who used to hang 
around here?" 

His face suddenly became rather warm. "Um, well-" 

"Because I certainly remember -- oh, it must have been in about 11th 
grade. You and Henri had gone down to the basement supposedly to study 
for an exam. About an hour later I went downstairs to get something 
from the pantry. Now unless that exam was on human tonsillar 
structures-" 

"Okay, Dad, I get it. I didn't know you knew." 

"Well I did, and I didn't much care then, and I don't care now as long 
as you're happy." Another flash of lightning illuminated the room 
behind him. 

"I am. We both are. I'll send you a letter so your subspace bill 
doesn't break the bank." 

His father suddenly became serious. "Have you spoken with Jake about 
this?" 

"I just did. He's not taking it very well. He's, um, a little shocked, 
upset. Jennifer tried to talk to him too, but he just locked himself in 
his room." 

"Do you want me to talk to him? I remember when my mother told me about 
my father." He raised his brows. "A person has to re-adjust himself 
after learning something unexpected about a parent, even a good thing." 

Ben nodded at what couldn't be said on a Starfleet frequency. The big 
family secret was that Joseph Sisko's biological father was a Starfleet 
admiral who had been arrested on charges of treason just after Joseph 
was conceived. Michael Sisko had stepped up and married Joseph's mother 
before his birth, taking on the responsibility for a child he didn't 
father. His actions had saved both Joseph and his eventual children 
from becoming pariahs in the Federation, but the revelation had still 
come as a shock to his father. 

A red light blinked at the bottom of the screen. "Looks like my time's 
up. Benjamin, I love you. Say hello to this - Julian, is it? - for me." 

"I will. I love you too, Dad. Thanks in advance for talking to Jake. 
We'll write." 

****** 

"Should we announce ourselves?" 

Thras shook her head. "He knows we've entered the system. In fact, sir, 
he probably knew we were on our way to Arawath before we left the 
station, although he probably doesn't know why." 

Sisko nodded. "If he knew why he wouldn't need us to tell him." 

"Precisely." An alarm beeped. "That's the first level of planetary 
security, sir. Most colonies have two more, which means that Arawath 
will likely have four. Tain's a careful man." 

He nervously touched the padds lined up in front of him. They had 
planned every detail, had taken every possibility into consideration. 
It was unlikely Tain would have them shot out of the sky: even given 
the current instability on Prime, he couldn't get away with killing two 
Starfleet officers who appeared to be making a simple courtesy call. He 
could, however, refuse to see them, or refuse to believe their 
evidence. Considering the stakes they were playing for... 

The comm system came to life after the third beep. "Arawath traffic 
control to unknown vessel, identify yourself." 

Thras opened the channel. "This is the Zambezi carrying Captain 
Benjamin Sisko for Director Enabran Tain." 

"Stand by." 

Thirty seconds later the surface hailed them again. "Permission 
granted. You're expected. Landing co-ordinates being transmitted." 

"Thank you. Zambezi out." The Andorian entered the numbers into helm 
and steered the runabout into a clearing below. They exited, Sisko 
carrying all but one of the padds. 

As they arrived at the house, a grey-haired woman opened the front door 
and observed them. "I don't know what you think you're doing here," she 
said to Sisko as he crossed the threshold. "He won't do anything for 
you." 

"We're actually here to do something for him, Mila," Thras said to her. 

"Do I know you?" the woman said sharply. 

"Not yet, ma'am," Thras replied. 

"Then don't use my name." She turned and pointed towards the back. 
"He's in the library." Shaking her head, she left the hallway. 

They shared a look before proceeding down the hall towards Tain's lair. 
He scanned the room as they entered: rich, dark, masculine furniture in 
the Cardassian style, all curves and smooth surfaces. 

"I don't know why you bothered," Tain said from his seat in the corner 
of the office. "As Mila said, I'm not going to help you." 

"And as my lieutenant told her, we're here to help you, Director," he 
said to Tain. "Or, more specifically, we're here to help Cardassia." 

The Cardassian snorted a laugh. "That'll be the day." He gestured to 
two chairs. "Sit down. I don't like to look up at people. It puts a 
crick in my back." As they took their seats, he crossed his arms and 
gave Sisko a sardonic look. "So, Captain, what makes you think you can 
be the saviour of Cardassia as well as the Emissary of the Prophets?" 

"I think we're in agreement, Director, that the coups can't go on any 
longer. Three in five months is excessive. They're causing instability 
throughout this sector and in adjoining sectors, including in my neck 
of the woods." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tain said with majestic insincerity. "But I 
don't see how I can be of help. The reasons behind the coups are 
multifarious - poverty, anger, weak government..." 

"But don't you think that the bankruptcy of the treasury is one of the 
main reasons?" he replied. "After all, a state that can't afford a 
proper defence can't protect itself against insurrection. And from our 
estimates the Cardassian government is very close to bankruptcy." 

Tain glared at him. "That's impossible! I saw the budgets that came out 
during the Occupation! Cardassia earned millions of bricks of latinum 
every year from Bajor." He laughed and shook his head. "You're wrong." 

"Am I?" He pushed a padd at Tain. "Starfleet has unearthed an 
unofficial budget from the Occupation that shows a rather different 
story." 

"Captain Sisko, I've seen those budgets. The Order realized that the 
Central Command was padding its numbers. In fact I've seen the official 
final budget, the first corrected budget, and both subsequent corrected 
budgets. I've seen all four." 

He smiled sweetly. "Five." 

Tain's gaze flickered. "Five." 

"Five. Feel free to read it, Director. I think you'll find it most 
illuminating." He sat back in his chair as Tain scanned through the 
padd. 

The Cardassian frowned as he read the numbers. "This - this is 
ridiculous! If it were true - I can't believe this! We would have found 
it out! It would have been treason! One of my men-" He stared at Sisko. 

"Actually, Director, one of your agents did find out about it. He was 
working with one of the Prefect's accountants, but unfortunately hours 
before he was to present the evidence to you a Gul in Central Command 
learned that he had cracked the case and framed both of them. He made 
it look as if your, um, agent had betrayed you." 

Tain's voice cracked. "One of my - agents." He stared out the window 
for a moment. "I trust you have evidence?" 

Sisko nodded. "Lieutenant Thras has been researching the matter; I'll 
ask her to fill you in." He handed her two of the padds. 

The Andorian held up the larger of the padds and handed it to Tain. 
"This compares the information in the official budget for the 
Occupation, the data in the fifth budget, and numbers I was able to 
extrapolate from the Bajoran State Archives. In almost every instance 
the figures from the State Archives match those found in the fifth 
budget. This," she said, holding up the smaller one, "contains 
information our intelligence service was able to obtain from the 
Central Command computer system. You'll see that the details also 
support our conclusions." 

"Hmph." Tain looked down at them. "As for this frame, I assume you have 
evidence of that as well?" 

She nodded. "Gul Kerad was the apparent perpetrator. As Prefect, he had 
the most to lose from Garak's discovery." Sisko handed the fourth padd 
to Tain. "Kerad's accountant Glinn Dukat was able to trace the payments 
for the frame before he was arrested. As you see, they went through 
many hands in the Central Command." 

Tain shook his head again. "Captain, I have to tell you, this is 
shocking news. There's just one problem." He looked up at him. "I'm not 
sure if I believe a word of it." 

They had been expecting this. "You're not," he said, remaining calm. 

"You have a very good reason to want Elim off the station. You also 
have a very good reason not to want him hurt. Bashir is his friend and 
doesn't want him harmed." He rubbed his chin with a hand. "Your data 
are persuasive, but I see no reason why they could not have been 
fabricated from whole cloth, as it were. Give me a reason to believe 
them." 

"You have the ability to cross-check the information contained in the 
first three padds." He pointed nervously to the items. 

He nodded. "Yes, I suppose I do, and if those data are correct the 
inference is that the data on the fourth would be as well. I don't buy 
it. You want him off Deep Space Nine and you want him off safely." Tain 
gave Sisko a shrewd look. "You'd forge documents to that effect. No, 
Captain, I don't think-" 

"They're not fake," Thras interrupted. "Director, please, listen to 
me." 

Sisko glared at her. "Lieutenant! You will-" 

"Captain. Let me speak with Director Tain." Her eyes were pleading. 
"Alone, sir. Please." Her skin was flushed dark teal with supposed 
embarrassment. "Please." 

"Mr. Thras, this is-" he bellowed. 

"Please, sir." 

He glowered and darted his eyes around Tain's office, not daring to 
meet the man's eyes. He had to make it seem ignominious to be upstaged 
by a junior officer in front of the former head of the Obsidian Order. 
"Very well," he grunted. "I'll wait outside." He stood and left. 

He sat in the hallway for twenty-five minutes admiring the holoimages 
of Tain's ancestors displayed on the walls. Amazing, he thought, how 
many of them looked like Garak. There was one from about five hundred 
years back that could have been his twin. Haughty and imperious, he was 
dressed in enough braid to make the Commander-in-Chief envious. Hell, 
he'd have made a 19th century Chilean general feel inadequate. Tastes 
had certainly changed since the times of the true Empire. Perhaps... 
but only time would tell if the vision the Prophets had given him would 
be fulfilled. 

The door opened and Thras emerged. "We're to find our own way out, 
sir." He glared at her ferociously for form's sake and followed her out 
to the runabout. He was surprised to see Tain's housekeeper standing at 
the door of the Zambezi. 

"You think he'll agree to it?" she said to Thras. 

She tilted her head. "I don't know, ma'am." 

"If he does and if Elim comes home," the woman replied knowingly, "you 
can call me anything you like." She turned around and returned to the 
house. 

They boarded the runabout. Thras arranged for departure permission; 
once they left orbit, Sisko turned to her. "Did he take the padd?" 

"Yes, sir. I think he was intrigued by my suggestion. It had never 
entered his mind." She smiled. "He's certainly of high enough 
hereditary rank to pull it off." 

Sisko changed course to return the runabout to Deep Space Nine. "What 
would his equivalent rank be in the Federation?" 

"It depends on the culture, sir," she said, her eyes on the console. 
"On Andoria, he'd be a silash. On Earth, it's a bit more complicated 
because your society was so fractured. Mr. Eddington said that in his 
culture he'd be the equivalent of a governor-general. The computer 
suggested a ma-ha-ra-ja." She contorted her mouth around the unfamiliar 
word. "Whatever that is." 

"A minor prince. Were you able to convince him that I wasn't lying 
about Garak?" 

She raised her brows. "I think so. In addition to what we discussed, I 
told him that although you wanted him off the station, there were 
others who didn't but who still believed the information was 
authentic." 

Sisko glanced over at her. "Why would he-" and he suddenly understood. 
"You convinced him that you were in love with Garak." 

"Yes, sir." She kept her eyes fixed on the navigational console. Her 
antennae drooped. 

He nodded approval. "Good idea, Lieutenant. If he thinks you don't want 
him to leave but you're willing to plead for his return, it bolsters 
the credibility of the data. I suppose that's why they give you two 
years of acting lessons in the Intelligence stream." 

"I suppose so, sir," she replied, her gaze never wavering. 

****** 

They dozed, starlight dappling their bodies as they lay in each other's 
arms on the sweat-soaked sheets. 

"Mm?" 

"Ssh. Go back to sleep." 

Julian perched his head on Ben's shoulder and looked down at him. "I 
should get back to my quarters. It wouldn't be proper for the CMO to be 
seen sneaking out of the Captain's quarters at 0540." 

Ben glanced at the chrono. "And leaving at 0204 would appear much more 
seemly." 

"Fewer people around," he replied, propping himself up on an elbow. 
"That's my greatest fear - becoming the subject of even more gossip. 
No, that's not true. My biggest fear would be calling you something 
inappropriate in the middle of a briefing. Like honey or baby." 

Ben said nothing. 

"What is it?" 

"My biggest fear. Ordering you into a situation where you could be 
killed. Sometimes I wonder if this is a good idea." 

"Would it really be easier if we weren't seeing each other?" 

He sighed. "No. I'd still feel the same way. I did when you and 
Eddington went on that mission to Ichara IV." 

"Exactly. It's that meddlesome troublemaker right there," Julian said, 
touching a finger to Ben's chest. "Blame him. Seriously, if you have to 
send me into something like that, just do it." 

"It isn't that easy," he began. 

"It isn't supposed to be for anybody under your command. Remember, I'm 
a lot stronger than anybody realizes. I don't need to be coddled, and I 
won't stand for it. If this is going to be a problem..." 

He reached up and took Julian's hand in his. "I'll work to make sure it 
isn't." He suddenly rolled them both over, pinning the younger man on 
his back. "But first I have something else to work on." 

Julian laughed. "You're insatiable." 

"You're damned right, and don't you love it." 

****** 

Smears of dried blood covered the sunny yellow walls and bright 
pictures of birds and plants. He tried to breathe through his mouth. 

Julian was running a medical tricorder over the dismembered head, 
shoulder and arm of a Cardassian girl who couldn't have been more than 
seven years old. She had yellow ribbons in her hair. Her facial 
features were contorted into a horrible rictus. 

"She was conscious when this was done to her," the doctor said. He 
shook his head, pressed his lips together and went on to the next set 
of remains, a leg and part of a pelvis that had once belonged to a boy. 
Nurse Sivok gently placed the girl's body (or what was left of it) in 
an opaque steri-bag, sealed it, and carried it to the growing pile in 
the corner of the room. 

Sisko walked around the room. Eighteen hours ago the building had been 
a primary school in a Cardassian colony in neutral territory near the 
DMZ. They had been able to get one distress call out; the Defiant had 
been the nearest ship, but it hadn't been close enough. The Maquis had 
taken terrible revenge for whatever horrors they blamed the Cardassians 
for. The colonists had been massacred to a person. Some of the children 
-- Sisko bit his lip and looked out the window. 

"Dax to Sisko." 

"Yes." 

"Captain, a Galor-class warship has entered orbit. They've hailed us 
and asked us to remove our people from the surface. They're planning to 
sterilize the colony." 

He grimaced. It was probably for the best given the possibility of 
disease, but still, to destroy evidence...then again, the Cardassian 
justice system didn't require evidence, and it was their colony. He 
tapped his comm badge again. "Sisko to all planetside personnel, 
prepare to return to the Defiant immediately." 

"Sir," Dax said as he, Eddington, and Bashir beamed onto the bridge, 
"Gul Pardal wishes to speak to you." 

"On screen." He took his seat. 

The well-worn face of a tired Cardassian career officer looked down on 
him. "Captain Sisko, what were your people doing down there? You really 
didn't think you'd find any survivors? The Maquis are animals; you know 
that. The risk of disease-" 

Sisko frowned at the screen. "We were processing the crime scene, Gul 
Pardal. If any of the perpetrators were once Starfleet officers, our 
Judge Advocate General's Office will require evidence." 

The Gul stared at him, then gave a brief nod that said volumes. They 
were both army men; both understood the difference between a legitimate 
military target and this obscenity. "Are your people off the surface?" 

"The last teams were just beamed up," Kira confirmed. 

"You have your evidence?" the Cardassian asked. 

Sisko turned to Bashir and Eddington. "As much as possible under the 
circumstances," Eddington replied. 

"I have 38 preliminary results from the primary school," Bashir said. 
"I'd like more, but if that's all I can get..." He shrugged. 

He turned back to the viewscreen. "We're finished here." 

The Cardassian nodded again. "We'll commence sterilization immediately. 
Pardal out." The screen went black. 

Eddington spoke. "Too bad they showed up. I could have spent another 
twenty hours down th-" He choked suddenly. Sisko looked over, saw the 
sickened look on Eddington's face, followed his gaze; he was staring 
into Julian's palm. 

The doctor was holding a little blood-stained yellow ribbon tied in a 
bow, a few fine black hairs caught in it. 

****** 

"Michael, I understand how he feels-" 

"Ya always thinks ya does, doesn't ya? 'Oh, I've been a father ten 
times and I know exactly how he must feel.' Well, ya doesn't know! Ya 
never been a human father! Ya doesn't know a right flamin' ting! Ya 
mighta been in eight minds but ya hasn't been in his!" 

He stopped and backed up. Eddington must be furious for his accent to 
come out so strongly. That or drunk, or both. 

"Jadzia," the voice continued, "I tries to tells ya, he doesn't trust 
ya and he ain't ever gonna." 

"If I could just talk to him." 

"He ain't gonna listen! And ta tell ya the truth sometimes I don't 
blame him!" 

"Mike!" 

"Ya knows everyting, dontcha. Sometimes I feel like a right stunned 
puppy aroond here. Ya knows how everyting's supposeta be..." 

He tiptoed down the hallway towards the turbolift, hoping he hadn't 
been heard. 

He pushed the up button and was soon joined by Li Nalas, who peered 
down the hallway towards the shouting voices. "I don't give them long," 
Li said quietly. 

"I keep wondering if there's something in the water around here." 

Li chuckled. "I was saying the same thing to Nerys yesterday. 
Everybody's either falling in love or out of it, and not quietly for 
the most part." 

"The O'Briens seem pretty stable," he said. 

"They're probably too busy laughing at the rest of us." 

They entered the turbolift. Sisko looked at Li. "You and Nerys? I 
didn't know..." 

He shrugged. "We've been seeing each other for a while now. We didn't 
think we needed to fuel the rumour mill -- forgive me, Captain, I'm 
sure you understand." 

"Don't I," he said with a laugh. 

The Bajoran leaned against the wall. "Sometimes, though, I wonder what 
she sees in me. I'm twenty-three years older than her, I'm not the most 
handsome or the most exciting man on the station; I'm just - me. 
Sometimes I think I'll wake up and it'll all have been a dream." 

"Don't I understand that too," he said as they entered Ops. 

Li gave him a strange look. 

****** 

O'Brien snorted a laugh and shook his head. "Can you bloody believe 
it." 

They were watching the procession on the ultra-wide vidscreen Quark had 
installed for the occasion. Enabran Tain -- now Emperor Enabran Tain I 
-- was sitting on an enormous jewel-encrusted platinum throne 
surrounded by sixteen legates. The remaining might of the Cardassian 
army and civil service paraded before him. Tain's throne and the broad 
platform on which it sat was strewn with white jevonia blossoms thrown 
at him by the millions of delighted subjects who had been gathering in 
the main plaza over the past three days. 

"Amazing, isn't it?" Kira said. "How long do you think it'll last?" 

"Let's hope it lasts longer than the last five governments," Sisko 
replied. "Although that wouldn't be difficult, I suppose." 

"Hey!" Keiko O'Brien shouted, pointing to the viewscreen. "Isn't that 
Garak on the right?" 

They all stared: Quark grabbed the remote control and zoomed in. 

"Sweet Prophets," Li Nalas finally said. "And Ziyal's dad beside him." 

Kira turned to Sisko. "When did Garak leave the station?" 

He shook his head. "Nobody told me-" 

Suddenly a deafening roar came from the viewscreen. Quark zoomed out: a 
crowd of thousands of civilians had yet again surrounded the throne. 
Tain was holding the hand of a dignified grey-haired woman wearing an 
elaborate fur-edged golden robe similar to the Emperor's. Sisko 
recognized her as Mila, the woman whom he had thought was his 
housekeeper. She knelt as Tain picked up an elaborate platinum 
headdress and placed it on her head, then raised her up and showed her 
to the crowd, which roared its approval and showered her with thousands 
of jevonia blossoms. 

"Who's that?" Quark asked. 

Sisko shrugged. "He wasn't married before." 

"Well, he is now, if he just did what I think he did." Jadzia asked. 

Thras smiled. "Looks like it, doesn't it. Can you see if there are 
subtitles, Quark?" 

"If you want." The Ferengi clicked the button. 

They read the words at the bottom of the screen. 

EMPEROR ENABRAN TAIN I AND HIS EMPRESS, MILA GARAK TAIN 

"Jesus fuck," O'Brien muttered. 

Keiko glared at him. "Miles, watch your tongue." 

Sisko stared open-mouthed at the screen. Mila was - he turned to Thras, 
who was also staring at the viewscreen, apparently as shocked as he 
was. Sure you are. 

"You don't think-" Kira started, when the crowd roared again. 

Tain suddenly led Garak to the front of the platform. He knelt as Mila 
had done, then Tain placed a heavy platinum and gold chain around his 
neck. He stood, the Emperor embraced him, and they stood hand-in-hand 
to receive the plaudits of the populace. A legate draped a golden robe 
around his shoulders as the crowds cheered. 

The subtitle read: 

THE HEIR TO THE THRONE, SUBEMPEROR ELIM GARAK TAIN 

Quark's mouth dropped open. "Blessed Exchequer. Maybe he'll pay his bar 
bill now." 

O'Brien turned to the bar. "Glenmorangie 15 years. A double. Neat." 
Keiko frowned. 

"Make it two," Jadzia said. "Ben, do you want a drink?" 

He shook his head. "I'm going to the Infirmary." His eyes met Thras's 
for a split second as he rose from his seat. 

We did it, he thought. We convinced Tain to take the bait. Now we'll 
see if he keeps his promise to leave Bajor alone, or if he lives long 
enough to keep it. The intelligence reports- 

He entered the Infirmary only to catch Julian watching the news on the 
monitor in his office with two of his nurses. The nurses smiled at him 
and left as he approached. 

"I wonder how long it'll last," Julian said, as he closed the office 
door and opaqued the windows. He nodded at the monitor. "They say 
there's over a million of them in the main plaza right now." 

He put his hand on Julian's shoulder. "When did Garak leave the 
station?" 

"Late last night." He looked down at Ben. "He came to see me. He asked 
me to go with him." 

"What did you tell him?" 

"That I love you and I wouldn't leave you." 

He pressed his forehead into Julian's cheek. He couldn't deny that if 
this succeeded it would be the best thing for Cardassia, the best thing 
for Bajor, and the fulfillment of the vision the Prophets had given 
him. He also couldn't deny that he had done it in part for this man. "I 
love you too." 

****** 

"Nothing." 

He scowled as he paced the bridge of the Defiant. "Next grid section," 
he barked out to the helmsman. 

They had been looking for the bastard for three hours. 

"Scanning." 

Three hours and fifteen minutes ago, a Maquis raider had come out of 
warp six hundred metres outside the Habitat Ring. They had been crude, 
vicious, lightning fast -- too fast to raise shields or to return fire. 
The secretary to the Vedek Assembly had said she could see the bite out 
of the Ring from her office window. Forty-seven cabins had been 
destroyed in a second. Only the fact that the attack had taken place on 
single persons' quarters during station daytime had limited the numbers 
of casualties. 

Two of the cabins had belonged to Li Nalas and Kira Nerys. Thank the 
Prophets they had been on duty, but seven other station residents 
hadn't been so lucky. One had been the Infirmary night nurse, Lepara 
Mari. 

The helmsman turned to him. "Nothing, sir." 

"Next grid section." 

Dax spoke up. "Captain, may I have a word with you?" 

He narrowed his eyes. "Not now, Commander," he snapped. 

She put her hand on his arm. "Ben, yes. Now." 

He glared at her, but saw nothing but compassion and concern in her 
face. He sagged as they walked towards the small office behind the 
bridge. 

As the doors closed behind them she said, "This is going nowhere, Ben. 
They could be five sectors away by now. This Maquis-" 

"He was a Starfleet officer, Jadzia!" He paced back and forth. "I 
taught tactics with him. He was here two years ago on a conference. He 
knew he was targeting living space." He rubbed his forehead. "What - 
what would make a man do this?" 

She perched on the edge of his desk. "What's his name?" 

"Chakotay. I know why he joined the Maquis; he grew up in the DMZ. 
Dorvan system, I think he said. That doesn't justify-" He threw his 
hand in the air and stared out the viewport. 

She was right: he could be five sectors away by now, or more. He 
sighed. "Let's go home." 

****** 

He was eating (if not enjoying) a very late dinner in the Replimat when 
he heard them faintly from around the corner. 

"Nerys, we could have died. Mari was sleeping. Solis went home to pick 
up a hair comb. Life is uncertain. I'm 57 years old, and after spending 
all that time in a prison camp I probably won't live anywhere near as 
long as you will. I want to pass something on before it's too late." 

"I know, but - I'm just not sure. I don't want to make a mistake. What 
if we make a mistake?" 

Sisko wondered if he should move to another seat where he couldn't hear 
them. Then again, it was more interesting than anything else he'd heard 
that week. 

"This isn't a mistake. I know I'm not the most handsome man around. I'm 
not Shakaar Edon. I'm not Benjamin Sisko." 

He almost choked on his soup. He'd have to talk to Julian; Li Nalas 
obviously needed an eye examination. 

"And thank the Prophets you're not," she replied. "Because I don't love 
either of them. I love you. I'm just not sure I'm ready for this." 

"Then how about this?" A pause. 

"Nalas...oh my...are you-" 

"I fell in love with you the first day you visited me, and I love you 
more every day we're together. Nerys, will you do me the honour of 
giving me your name?" 

A long silence, interrupted by sounds of kissing. Obviously Li's 
proposal had been accepted. 

He finished his meal and returned the dishes to the recycler, a faint 
smile on his face. Maybe some day - 

A voice broke into his reverie. "Sir, do you have a moment?" 

He turned. "Certainly, Lieutenant." They chose a table in the centre of 
the room. 

Thras looked around to make sure they were alone, then handed him a 
thick paper rectangle. "We've received envelopes from Cardassia, sir. 
One addressed to each of us." Her voice was low. 

He frowned. "You've tested them?" 

"They're clean, sir." 

He unstuck the flap and removed a thick piece of folded paper. Most of 
the text was in Kardasi, but the first line...He looked up at Thras. 

"Certificate of Sacrosanctity in Perpetuity? What does that mean?" 

"It means, sir, that for all intents and purposes we're untouchable." 

He stared at her. "And precisely what does that mean?" He looked back 
down at the paper. It must have cost Tain three strips of latinum per 
sheet. "Are we not allowed to travel to Cardassia, or..." 

She shook her head. "Not untouchable in the ancient Human sense, sir. 
Untouchable in the sense that we can't be harmed. Any Cardassian, 
including the head of state or his heir, who kills a sacrosanct 
individual forfeits his life and all his personal property, including 
any titles he holds, to the legal heir of the sacrosanct individual. In 
your case, if Garak were to have you killed, as things stand right now 
your son Jake would immediately be declared Tain's lawful heir." 

His mouth dropped open. "What?!?" He looked back down. "You have got to 
be kidding me." 

"I'm serious. Tain may have been concerned that Garak was planning to 
have you killed during the state visit to DS9 next week. He owes you a 
great deal. What better way to guarantee your safety than to tie it in 
with Garak's ambition?" 

"You're sure this certificate applies to Garak, though?" he asked. 

"Absolutely," she replied, "and in perpetuity. And if you want my 
opinion, sir, he'll obey it. He loves his mother enough that he won't 
go against her will. This is as much Mila's doing as it is Tain's, and 
Garak won't cross his mother." 

He shook his head. "Unbelievable." He suddenly became concerned. "How 
can I be sure he won't threaten Jake?" 

"I've already notified Intelligence Central. They've got somebody 
watching him and his mother, and they've also got somebody on your 
father as well. I don't know if there's anybody else you'd like 
covered..." 

"No...thank you, Thras. You think of everything. I don't know if it's 
necessary, but -- thank you." He'd better call Jennifer and Dad so they 
didn't think they were being stalked. 

"Just until the state visit is over, sir. I doubt anything will happen 
after that." She looked towards the back of the Replimat. "Do you think 
Li and Kira will choose to marry in the reception room?" 

He stared at her. "Do you know everything that goes on around here?" 

"I try to. It helps me do my job better." 

He threw his head back and laughed. 

****** 

Admiral Barron was circling him furiously, his face a contortion in 
purple and red. "What the GODDAMNED HELL do you think you're doing 
around here, Sisko? Treating this station like your own personal 
medieval fiefdom?" 

He shifted uneasily from foot to foot under Barron's enraged barrage. 
"I, um-" 

Veins were sticking out of the Admiral's forehead. "I should have you 
busted down to Ensign for this. I should assign you to Waste Extraction 
for the remainder of your tour of duty. I should-" He stopped his 
pacing to jab a finger into Sisko's chest. "Fraternization!?! Cavorting 
around with a junior officer? What kind of example for the Federation 
do you think you're setting in this sector?" 

"Well-" 

"Have you been reading romance novels, Sisko? Did you think that a 
Captain's pip somehow gave you some special license to go off and lure 
your chief medical officer into bed? The man is a junior lieutenant and 
twenty-nine years old! What made you think you had the right like some 
- droit de seigneur - to go off and schtumpf-" and a dot of spittle 
sprang out and hit Sisko in the face, "-Dr. Bashir just because you 
suddenly became a Captain? He's young, he's naive, he's-" 

A voice came from the doorway. "His fiancé." 

Barron spun on his heels. 

"His fiancé, sir," Julian repeated brightly, his silver racquetball 
suit gleaming in the lights of Sisko's quarters. The door closed behind 
him as he dropped his sports bag onto the sofa. "I'm sorry I missed the 
beginning of this conversation. You do realize, Admiral, that the 
fraternization rules are null and void in this case?" 

Sisko gave him a puzzled look, but Barron interrupted before he could 
say anything. "You'll excuse me, Dr. Bashir, but exactly how is that?" 

"It's right in the Starfleet Handbook to Personal Relationships, sir. 
Good afternoon, honey." He gave Sisko a kiss on the cheek, ignoring 
Barron's darkening face, then turned to the Admiral. "Section 23, 
Subsection 3, Chapter 48, paragraph 8e of the Handbook specifically 
states that partners who are in a relationship that is designed to end 
in marriage are specifically exempt from the fraternization rules as 
long as the relationship has been officially noted by an applicable 
registrar, marriage officiant, senior Starfleet officer, or other 
similar responsible individual, subject to local laws and regulations." 
He took Sisko's arm in his. 

"And yours has." Barron looked skeptical. "I mean, before this moment 
in time." 

The doctor smiled sweetly. "Actually yes it has, sir, by the Kai of 
Bajor. I'm sure you'll agree she is a responsible individual. Of course 
she is also a marriage officiant in her capacity as a member of the 
clergy and an applicable registrar as head of state of the planet which 
owns this station. You're free to check with her office if you'd like. 
In fact, she's offered to marry us herself. She suggested the next 
Gratitude Festival, but Ben and I were hoping for something closer to 
Valentine's Day." Julian turned to Sisko and batted his lashes. 

He bit his cheek to prevent himself from laughing. How did Julian come 
up with this crap so quickly, he wondered, and how was he going to get 
the Kai to go along with it if Barron did call her? He satisfied 
himself with patting Julian's hand. 

The admiral deflated. "Ah. Well, I see." He looked up at Sisko. "Why 
didn't you tell me this yourself, Ben?" 

He shrugged his shoulders and cultivated an air of innocence. "You 
really didn't give me the chance, Admiral." 

Barron had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I suppose I didn't." He 
looked up at the two men, then reluctantly held out his hand to each of 
them in turn. "I suppose congratulations are in order," he said 
somewhat petulantly. 

"Thank you, sir." 

"Thank you, Admiral." 

Barron turned to Sisko. "I'll see you at 1800 for the briefing I 
mentioned in my message." He turned and left. 

Ben stared at Julian after the door closed. "Now what am I supposed to 
tell the Kai?" 

"What do you mean?" Julian gave him a puzzled look as he reached back 
and unzipped the top of his suit. "I'm just going to hop in the shower. 
I have to be on duty in half an hour." He shrugged his right shoulder 
and arm out of the tight outfit. 

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'? You just told Admiral Barron that 
we were engaged and that the Kai would back us up. I have to call her 
and let her know." 

Julian stopped, turned back, and gave Ben a quizzical look. "No you 
don't." 

"Baby..." Ben ran a hand down the young man's back. He really did have 
the most magnificent rear end in the quadrant... 

Julian sighed. "Don't you remember what she said when she talked to you 
that day? You remember, the morning after we went into the wormhole? 
About ten months ago?" 

"Well, yes. She said that you were the Companion, and that there were 
various prophecies about you and our relationship, and that I shouldn't 
be afraid to be close to you, but-" 

Julian looked concerned. "She didn't tell you she wanted us to be 
married?" 

"Wha--what?" The room suddenly spun. "She - she wants us -" 

"Ben, in her mind we're in a relationship that's designed to end in 
marriage, just like the Handbook says. She was all but ready to order 
an, I don't know what you'd call it - Eminence's dress? - from Garak 
when I spoke with her the night we were in the wormhole. In fact," he 
said with a smile, removing Ben's hand from his ass, "she really wanted 
us to get married at this year's Gratitude Festival." He kissed Ben's 
fingers. 

"This year's?" He thought back. "But that was-" 
 
"I explained to her that I couldn't possibly talk you into marrying me 
in five weeks, especially considering we hadn't even been on a date 
yet." He turned Ben's hand over and kissed the palm. "Next year's 
Festival is a different matter. Actually, now that I think of it, the 
Festival does fall right around Valentine's Day next year." 

"It does?" 

"Mm-hmm. Ben, I do love you, and I'd like to spend the rest of my life 
with you. Maybe the Kai's right." He looked down into his eyes. "Marry 
me." 

He swallowed. "This is sudden, Julian. I-" 

"Would you like a more formal proposal?" He went down on both knees. 
"Benjamin, will you marry me?" 

Ben looked down and grinned. "It'd be more formal if you weren't 
plastered with sweat and wearing three-quarters of a racquetball suit." 

Julian smiled up at him. "Marry me anyway." 

******
******
******

"Opaka ordered you to propose to me?" he asked Julian that night after 
he returned from his visit with the Orb and his meditation exercises. 

"Ordered?" He looked up from the medical journal he was reading and 
rolled his eyes. "Ordered, asked, nagged, begged, messaged constantly -
- didn't you ever wonder how I got up the nerve? It never ended! How 
could I not? It was like she was on this mission to ensure that her 
interpretation of the prophecies was fulfilled!" 

Ben wondered if Julian had told him this before. 

Julian ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not saying that I didn't very 
much want to marry you, but -- she was worse than Grandmother Suleyma 
was when I was dating Palis. Then again, Grandmother Suleyma didn't 
completely approve of Palis, even at the beginning." 

"Why was your grandmother so pushy then?" 

"She was dying and she wanted to see me settled down. Only she found 
out after I had proposed that Palis was a ballerina. Running around 
half-naked on stage...well, that was immodest." He chuckled. "She made 
me break it off, and to be honest I didn't mind. Dad minded. By that 
time Palis had booked an enormous European cathedral for our wedding, 
spent thousands of credits on a dress that filled half a room -- I 
didn't feel like a fiancé, I felt like an accessory. Grandmother had 
been right about her from the start." 

"Do you feel that way sometimes about me?" Ben asked, suddenly 
concerned. "I mean, with-" and he gestured around them. 

Julian shook his head. "Never. Well, the odd vedek treats me that way, 
but most of the Bajorans don't even know who I am." He reached over and 
squeezed Ben's hand. "The most important thing is, you don't treat me 
that way. You treat me like an equal and you respect me as a 
professional and as a man. I don't feel like the groom on the wedding 
cake." He suddenly started laughing. "Oh God, the wedding. Do you 
remember?" He doubled up on the sofa. 

"Oh yeah," Ben said hollowly, laughing in response. He hadn't gotten 
that far yet in his travels through the past. That reminded him, 
though, of something he had noticed that afternoon... "Julian," he 
started. 

The man was still giggling. "And the worst part was-" 

He rolled his eyes. "Julian, this is important. I need to ask you 
something." 

"Okay, hun. It's just - the look in your eyes - Okay, okay, what is 
it?" 

"What do you know about Andorian antenna movements?" 

Julian looked at him like he had grown his own antennae. "Benjamin 
Sisko, what are you talking about?" 

He lowered his brows. "When Andorians move their antennae in certain 
ways, does it mean something?" 

"I'm sure it does, but I don't know what." 

"Isn't it something you'd learn in medical school?" he asked. 

"Not really," Julian replied. "We mainly deal with the pathological, 
the abnormal. What you're asking is more the realm of normal 
psychology, or even sociology. I can research it for you. Is there 
anything you're especially interested in?" 

He thought for a moment. "Yes. What does it mean when an Andorian 
points his antenna towards you, when he points them away from you, when 
they droop, and when he plasters them to his head?" 

"Well," Julian replied, "I can answer the last. It means that he, or 
she in this case, is furious beyond all belief." 

He thought back to Thras and Miles O'Brien. "Ah." 

******

Chapter 10

******

The day dawned unusually warm and sunny. "Walk you to the Orb?" 

"I'd like that." 

They strolled hand-in-hand down the stone path, quietly watching a 
flock of birds swimming in the ponds. "I hope they don't eat fish," Ben 
said, sentimentally thinking about the kranta. 

"Their beaks are too small," Julian pointed out. "They might eat  
seeds." 

They turned a corner and headed for the storeroom only to be confronted 
with the sounds of a couple enthusiastically making love no more than a 
few metres away. They stared at each other and froze. 

"What the hell," Julian mouthed. "Where are they?" 

They looked around frantically. Ben suddenly pointed to a rock right 
beside the storeroom. He tiptoed up; all he could tell through the 
ferns was that he had been right, and that one of the partners was most 
definitely male. 

He tiptoed back. "How am I supposed to-" he began to mouth, when old 
Vedek Harash glided up with a twinkle in his eye. 

"GOOD MORNING, EMISSARY," he boomed. 

The sounds coming from behind the rock instantly stopped. 

"Good morning, Vedek Harash," Ben replied in kind, as Julian bit his 
lower lip in an attempt not to laugh. "Beautiful morning, isn't it? 

"Yes, Emissary; the birds and the bees are out in full force." 

"I couldn't agree more. It's a rousing morning, the kind of morning 
that makes you want to be up and at 'em. Keeps a man from going soft. 
Isn't that right, Julian?" 

"Mmmfrffft." 

They looked over at the rock; the space behind it appeared to be 
deserted. "It seems as if our acolytes have abandoned their morning 
calisthenics," the vedek said. "Perhaps I should speak to our young 
people about the difference between indoor and outdoor exercises, 
especially in public places. Although I'm not sure why anybody over the 
age of five would have to be told." He shook his head. "Good morning, 
gentlemen. I hope your day with the Orb brings you enlightenment, 
Emissary." 

******
******
******

It was all very un-Cardassian, all very Human. Nobody seemed to mind, 
though. 

He and his staff stood in the sixth row of the reviewing stand as the 
casket was borne down the main street on a carriage drawn by a single 
black riding hound. The only sounds came from the carriage wheels and 
from the wind whipping the flags that lined the street. Military men, 
scientists, civil servants, ordinary civilians stood by the millions in 
plazas, along roads, and on the roofs of buildings, their heads bowed 
in memory of the man who had seemed to finally bring stability to their 
people. Would that it would continue. 

Enabran Tain I had been Emperor of Cardassia for 146 days. His body, 
worn out by the cares of office and battered by a weakened heart, had 
finally given out eleven days ago. At least that was the official 
story, for nobody quite trusted Emperor Elim Garak Tain I yet. 

Rumours flew around Cardassia Prime. Had Tain been smothered in his 
sleep? Had he been poisoned? Had his heart medication been diluted? 
Concentrated? The Great Gul knew that was almost as bad. Had it really 
been natural? Had he ended his own life in order to ease his pain? 

Sisko had heard them all since he had arrived on Prime thirty hours 
earlier. So had his people. To his left, the newly promoted Lieutenant-
Commander Thras watched the newly acceded Emperor Garak walk behind his 
father's casket. To his right, the newly engaged Li Nalas shifted from 
foot to foot in the bitter winter wind. Five rows ahead of them, wedged 
in between Federation President Jaresh-Inyo and Marial Minda, the 
Drahon of Simar, the newly embarrassed Julian Bashir stood 
incongruously, fidgeting faintly in his dress blues as the body passed 
by. 

There was, of course, no question why Garak had insisted that Julian 
stand in the front row of dignitaries. It was the same reason why 
Julian had merited a penthouse suite in a top-of-the-line hotel while 
the rest of them had been given accommodations in a shabby rooming 
house in a working-class neighbourhood. If Cardassian mourning customs 
allowed for public banquets, he was certain he, Li and Thras would be 
at the back of the room and Julian would be at the head table. 

Certificate of Sacrosanctity or not, Sisko was still testing his food 
and drink for poison. 

****** 

"What's it look like out there?" He brushed invisible lint off his 
shoulder. 

Judith peered out the one-way glass. "A crush of people. Your wedding 
to Jennifer wasn't this big. Must be 300 out there." 

"460, actually. I didn't want it to be this big, but there's a 
religious festival on the station and with the Kai performing the 
ceremony..." 

She snorted. "There are two Cardassian military officers in the front 
row. One is this arrogant twerp who's sprawled out all over the front 
bench in the centre, taking up about three spaces, making eyes at 
Nerys. The one next to him is very handsome, very dignified, and looks 
annoyed as hell. He's also got a very pretty girl sitting next to him. 
She's making eyes at Jake." 

"That would be Legates Damar and Dukat. The girl is Dukat's daughter. 
You don't see another Cardassian out there? Stocky guy in yellow robes 
and an enormous black wig?" 

"You mean the Emperor? Why would he be here?" She turned and gave him a 
funny look. "Do you know him?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Do we know him? Judy, you have no idea. Garak used 
to live on the station. He has a thing for Julian." 

"A thing." She raised an eyebrow. 

"A big thing. You know the return of the DMZ?" 

"The main story in all the galactic newsvids for the past 36 hours? 
I've heard of it, yes." 

"You know how they said that he did it to improve Cardassia's ties with 
the Federation? Well, that was only half the story. We got a letter 
from Garak yesterday. Judy, he did it to impress Julian." 

Her eyes grew enormous. "What?" 

"He wants him to move to Cardassia and marry him. He thought giving the 
Federation the DMZ would convince him to leave me. He wants Julian to 
have his children." 

"Children? But he's a-" She stopped and crossed her arms. "Ben, you won 
out over an emperor?!? Exactly what have you got cooking, brother?" 

"Judith! I - you-" 

She started to giggle. "Ben, what've you got under-" 

They suddenly stopped and stood up straight as the door leading to the 
hallway pushed open. Julian entered, followed by his tall, imposing 
aunt Ruksha Khadry. "We're here," Julian said rather unnecessarily, 
tugging at the collar of his dress uniform. 

Ben held out his hands. "I missed you-" 

Aunt Ruksha cleared her throat and glared at his arms, then back at 
him. 

Ben pressed his lips together and reclasped his hands behind his back. 
"Yes, well. Are you nervous?" 

Julian extracted his lower lip from between his teeth. "No, no, not at 
all. Everything's just fine." He blinked a few times. "Yes." 

Judith looked through the glass again. "That lady in gold you wanted me 
to look for just showed up. She's talking to a few of the - vedeks, you 
called them?" 

"That would be the Kai," Ben said. "I suppose it's close to time. Judy, 
would you escort Mrs. Khadry to the reception room? Perhaps the two of 
you could take your seats beside Legate Damar in the front row. He 
appears to have misidentified himself as the guest of honour." 

Aunt Ruksha craned her neck to look at the crowd. She frowned and shook 
her head. "Such manners in that one." She gave Ben a quick glare, then 
bent over and kissed Julian on the cheek. "Blessings upon you, dear. 
Your mother would be so proud." She followed Judith out to the main 
room. Judith rolled her eyes at Ben as the door closed behind them. 

"She's protective of you," Ben said as he wrapped his arms around 
Julian's waist. "Does she not approve of me, or..." 

"She approves very highly of you; she's just old-fashioned. People who 
are dating don't touch in her culture, or at least not in public." 

"That's why you moved back to your old quarters before she arrived." 

Julian shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a coward." 

They looked out the glass; Legate Damar was sitting meekly, looking 
like a scared rabbit under the fierce gaze of Aunt Ruksha. 

"That's not cowardice, that's common sense," Ben said. "And you're not 
a coward. I wouldn't be here if you were. And it did give me four days 
to spend with Jake." A gong rang out three times. "That sounds like our 
cue." He looked up at Julian. "Ready?" 

"Ready. I love you." 

"I love you." They kissed, then opened the door in the one-way glass 
and stepped out into the room. 

** 

"I wish you a profitable future together. Although I've never seen 
anything quite like this ceremony. You didn't even charge for 
admission. It was just so..." 

"-romantic!" his companion finished, dabbing at her eyes with a 
handkerchief. "Maybe some day I'll-" and she burst into sobs, only to 
be consoled on his shoulder. 

"Thank you, Quark, Leeta," Ben said, not daring to meet his husband's 
gaze. 

"Yes, thank you," Julian added. "Perhaps you will." 

They had finally gotten to the end of the reception line, past the 
vedeks and admirals and guls and dohmans and harathas and grand neguses 
and Prophets knew who and what else, down to the people they actually 
knew. Although how Leeta or anyone else could consider half an hour of 
the Kai reciting monotone phrases in ancient Bajoran with her palms on 
their foreheads while they knelt in front of her romantic... 

He scanned the crowd for his family. "Do you see Jake anywhere? I had 
hoped to talk to him for a while longer, but-" 

"He's over there," Julian said. "In the corner with Ziyal." 

"Good grief." The two young people were off giggling and flirting. "He 
won't even know I exist for the rest of the day." 

He took Ben's hand. "The day? Try the year. That's a full-on crush. 
Don't you remember being sixteen?" 

"I feel sixteen right about now." They shared a fond look. 

"So where are you going for the honeymoon?" Dax asked from behind them 
as she and Leeta handed them gold cups of spring wine. 

"It's a beautiful cabin." Ben took a sip. "Thank you, ladies." 

"Yes, thank you." Julian nodded. "Lovely secluded area, very romantic. 
We're thinking of buying it." 

Dax frowned at them. "You don't trust us." 

"We don't trust anyone. The walls have ears." 

Her face cleared. "You have a point there." Suddenly the background 
music segued into a mini-fanfare. 

Julian looked over at the band. "Were you expecting-" he began, but 
suddenly the Kai's voice rang out over the audience. 

"Honoured gentlebeings," she said from her position on the bandstand. 
"I would like to once again thank you for honouring Bajor and Deep 
Space Nine with your presence at the marriage of the Emissary and the 
Companion. The ceremony you have just witnessed dates from the time of 
Horran, a mystic who in his Thirtieth Prophecy foretold the event we 
are celebrating today. However, as you all know, the Emissary and the 
Companion are human, and as such they of course have their own 
traditions regarding marriage. In fact, one of the Bajorans who works 
on the station mentioned to my assistant last month that many of the 
Terran literary works available on Deep Space Nine deal extensively 
with this specific subject." 

Shit shit shit. He knew he should have stopped the Bajoran bookseller 
from bringing in those damn romance novels. He and Julian exchanged 
panicked looks as Jadzia stifled a snort of laughter behind them. 

"What's she doing?" Julian whispered. 

"I don't know," he whispered back. "As long as it doesn't have anything 
to do with bedsheets or ripped bodices-" 

"One of the most time-honoured traditions in many Human cultures is the 
first dance of the married couple," the Kai said. "The newlyweds take 
the floor and dance for the guests as a show of their public commitment 
to each other." 

"How romantic!" Leeta exclaimed behind them. 

Ben swallowed. "Hell. Do you even know how to dance?" he whispered. 

"I can waltz," Julian replied. "They taught us at Harrow. How about 
you?" 

"I had to learn for the Academy Christmas Ball one year." He leaned 
back. "Dax, go tell the band to play a waltz." 

She nodded and ran off. He thought he caught an evil glint in her eyes, 
but dismissed it as his imagination. 

The Kai continued. "I would ask the grooms to share this lovely Earth 
tradition with us now." 

They quickly handed their wine glasses to Leeta and self-consciously 
stepped to the middle of the room. 

"I think you have to lead," Julian whispered. 

"You're taller." 

"You're the Emissary." 

"Good point." He put one arm around Julian's waist just as the music 
started up - oh hell. He guided his husband around the floor as the 
music swelled. 

"Um...why are some of the Starfleet officers laughing, Ben?" Julian 
whispered a few moments later. 

"You don't recognize the song?" He steered them past a group of 
portable chairs, imagining one of them shoved up Dax's- 

"No, I don't," Julian replied. They danced a little closer, their 
cheeks touching. "The Bajorans are joining in laughing now." 

"They probably think it's part of the tradition. Either that or we're 
really bad dancers." 

"Hold on: I remember, from the holosuite." He chuckled. "Well, it is a 
waltz; you have to admit that." 

"Yep." 

And so they danced their first (and likely last) dance together as 
husbands in the reception room to the strains of the lilting waltz 
Jadzia had chosen for them. In the background, Ben could soon hear a 
few of the guests singing along: 

     'Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,
     I don't care if I never get back.
     Let me root, root, root for the home team,
     If they don't win, it's a shame.
     For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out,
     At the old ball game.' 

"Stop laughing, Julian." 

He felt the smile against his cheek. "It's just so - romantic!" 

****** 

"So how was your honeymoon?" Dax asked him after the morning briefing. 

"Excellent, Commander," he replied with a smile. "How were your shifts 
cleaning out access tubes?" 

"Worth it. Did Julian receive that letter from Admiral Hassan yet?" She 
rose from her chair and crossed to the replicator. "Do you want 
anything?" 

"He did and no. What was that all about anyway? Why is the head of the 
Second Fleet writing Julian?" 

She ordered a raktajino. "It's-" She shook her head as she took a seat. 
"I should start from the beginning. After you and Julian left for 
Bajor, I noticed his aunt talking to Jake and Ziyal. She was explaining 
to them how important it was that the son of a highly respected 
Starfleet officer and the daughter of a prominent Imperial Army officer 
behave with the utmost of decorum in a public setting." 

"A highly respected Starfleet officer." He must have made quite an 
impression on- 

"I believe she was referring to Julian." 

His face fell. "Oh." 

"Anyway," she continued with a grin, "Damar got the idea in his head 
that he was going to ask Kira to dance. He was smarmy about it too." 

"Why did Garak send him anyway?" 

"He's young, he needs seasoning. Who knows. At any rate, Nerys said no, 
he insisted, Nalas came up and tried to stop him, when suddenly out of 
nowhere Mrs. Khadry came up and turned him around. She didn't even do 
anything. She just turned him around, stared down at him and said in 
this low voice, 'Legate Damar, you are not acting like a gentleman and 
you will leave Li Nalas's fiancée alone. Now.'" 

He stared at her. "That's it?" 

She threw a hand in the air. "You didn't see her. He literally shrunk 
in his boots. He turned to Legate Dukat for support and he said as 
calmly as could be, 'She's right, Damar.' He slunk out of there like a 
wounded sehlat. A few minutes later Mrs. Khadry was surrounded by a fan 
club of admirals and vedeks. I overheard Admiral Hassan asking if he 
could, and these were his words, court her. She told him he had to ask 
her nephew for permission first." She gave him a puzzled look. "Why 
does she need Julian's permission to date someone? I thought she was a 
widow." 

"Don't ask me. She's very traditional." He shook his head. "I'm glad 
we've given the sector its entertainment for the year. Getting on to 
more serious matters, do you give credence to these reports?" He tapped 
the padd on his desk. 

"I'd like to think they were true. Without a DMZ there's no need for a 
Maquis, but you know as well as I do that once people have power, guns, 
and money, they don't like to give them up." 

"Exactly." He sighed. "Most of the Maquis were freedom fighters, but a 
significant percentage were mercenaries or just cowboys looking for a 
good fight. Those are the ones I'm worried about. The question is 
whether they'll keep fighting and if they do, whom they'll target." He 
stared at the padd. "I doubt Bajor's in any direct danger and I hope 
they'll leave us alone. Cardassia can take care of itself. But if they 
go after a neutral party, one that doesn't discriminate between the 
Maquis and the Federation or Bajor..." 

"...we could have a war on our hands," she finished. 

"The Ilarians, the Simarans, the Kelara, and the Higari are all within 
10 light-years of Bajor. If the Maquis invade any of their territories 
they may very well assume either the Federation or Bajor is behind it 
and retaliate." He frowned. "I contacted Starfleet Diplomatic this 
morning. They suggested that we hold a conference on Deep Space Nine to 
let the neutral states know where we stand with respect to the Maquis." 

She thought about it for a moment. "That's not a bad idea. When is this 
conference going to take place?" 

He held the padd out to her. "Whenever you get around to planning it." 

"Me?" she said. "You want me to plan a major diplomatic -- Is this some 
kind of payback?" 

"Not at all," he replied. "Curzon was an expert at this type of thing. 
I merely thought you'd appreciate using some of your organizational and 
diplomatic skills. Besides," he said with a wide grin, "I think you'll 
do a crackerjack job." 

She glared back. "Hilarious, Ben." 

****** 

"It's unfortunate, Captain, that the Ilarians are missing out on this. 
Deep Space Nine puts on a good spread." 

He smiled at the Kelara delegate whose main interest seemed to be how 
highly he could pile his plate with food. "We were hoping to speak with 
representatives of all the non-aligned planets surrounding Bajor. We're 
concerned that the breakup of the Maquis could affect relations between 
the Federation, Bajor, and your governments." 

I'ora nodded. "As you say. Do you really think it possible that one of 
these -- mercenaries, as you call them -- could attack Kela? It seems 
strange that they would bother. After all, what do we have that Bajor 
and Cardassia do not?" He tasted a sticky rectangular sandwich. "This 
is delicious, Captain. I would greatly appreciate if you could provide 
me with the replicator codes for it, if it's not too much trouble." 

"I'd be pleased to. As to your question, you have dilithium, duranium, 
and yttrium ores, but more importantly you don't have a planetary 
defence grid comparable to that of Bajor or Cardassia. What's more, 
your planet has been at peace for so long that it's very wealthy. A 
raider intent on stealing artwork or antiquities to sell on the black 
market could enrich himself in one fell swoop." 

"Antiquities? The first minister would be very concerned to hear that. 
He was an archaeologist before he went into politics." He chewed on a 
bite of the hors d'oeuvre. "That may be the best angle to take with 
him. He was suspicious of this conference, but if you think our 
planet's ancient treasures are at stake...Ah. Your lovely Commander Dax 
is waiting to speak to you." He bowed, then returned to the buffet. 

Sisko shook his head as he walked up to Jadzia. "Your conference 
appears to be a success. The delegates seem to be very impressed, 
especially with the presentation." 

"Let's hope the Ilarians hear about it second-hand at least. They're 
the ones I was most worried about. Have you heard from them?" 

"Not a word. Can't say that I'm surprised, though; they seem to be 
looking for an excuse to declare war." 

"Let's hope it's not with us." She suddenly broke out into a grin. "One 
of the Higari delegates has got Michael trapped in a corner. Should we 
rescue him or just enjoy the show?" 

"Old man." He turned to see Eddington being -- toyed with, he decided 
was the correct phrase -- by a tall, dark felinoid female. He didn't 
seem too upset about it, so Sisko shrugged and turned back to Dax. "Be 
nice, Commander. Mingle. And when you have a moment, download the 
replicator codes for the donairs and pass them on to Ambassador I'ora." 

She returned his look of disgust. "Aye, sir." 

He picked up an edible hors d'oeuvre and walked over to the Cardassian 
delegate. "So we meet again, Mr. Dukat. Or should I say Legate Dukat?" 

"Captain Sisko!" The tall Cardassian raised his glass to him. "It's 
good to see you again. Ziyal and I enjoyed your wedding, although I do 
have to apologize to Major Kira for young Damar's unfortunate faux pas. 
I believe he enjoyed your hospitality, or at least your spring wine, a 
bit too much. How is married life treating you? Well, I hope?" 

Sisko chuckled. "I heard about that, and yes, very well. How is Ziyal? 
Will we be seeing her on the station soon?" 

"I think a break from Cardassia would do her good, if Major Kira will 
have her again. It's not easy for her. She may be legitimate, but 
still..." He shook his head, then led Sisko aside. "Your conference is 
proceeding well. The Emperor will be pleased to hear that peace is 
progressing. He's been speaking of something he's read about recently 
called the 'domino theory'. He feels that any threat to Bajor or to 
Deep Space Nine could easily become a threat to Cardassia." 

He wondered who in hell was supplying Garak with ancient Earth 
political science texts. "It's a possibility, I guess..." 

Dukat looked around, then leaned in. "That's why he's ordered me to 
meet secretly with the First Minister to discuss the possibility of a 
mutual defence pact." 

"Mutual defence?" he whispered, shocked. "I don't think Shakaar will go 
for that in a million years." 

"Neither do I, to be honest, but my orders are to make an attempt to 
meet with him to discuss it. Deep Space Nine seems the logical place. 
If I could have your permission..." 

He thought for a moment, then sighed. "Very well. Let me know where and 
when and I'll have the area secured. If you can get him to meet with 
you, that is." 

****** 

He walked around the bantaca spire, studying its reflection in the 
water. 

"Where is this place supposed to be?" he heard Jake ask. "On Bajor?" 

"Somewhere on Bajor," Julian replied. "Other than that nobody's sure; 
it's been lost for 20,000 years. The Prophets called your father into 
the wormhole last week. They want him to find it." 

"The Temple, Julian," Sisko corrected. 

"Sorry." He and Jake shared a look. "Anyway, Ben contacted Cardassia 
and got them to send back an icon painting they'd been holding onto. 
This is a holographic reproduction of it. The city was called B'hala." 
They stepped out of Sisko's way as he circled the waterfall. 

"Why don't you guys..." He waved his hand. He needed to think alone. He 
had seen this place in so many dreams, in so many visits with the 
Prophets, even in an experience with the Orb of Contemplation last 
year. He had chased Garak through this city before Tain had given him 
wings. He had seen the dead seeping through the ground in this city. He 
had even seen Ziyal in this city. 

"Come on, Jake." Julian said. "Maybe we could rent another holosuite. 
Quark's brought in the 1955 World Series, if you're interested. I've 
also got this new spy novel." Jake left the suite; Julian lingered at 
the door. "You're sure you're okay, hun?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Comm me if you need me." The door closed. 

Sisko turned back to the bantaca spire. Perhaps those symbols were co-
ordinates... 

****** 

Julian's eyes fluttered open; his hands flew down to his flat abdomen. 
He looked up into Ben's face. "Were they able to save it?" 

He shook his head. "It was too late." 

He threw his head back onto the biobed. "Damn." His lips were an angry 
thin line. He peered over to the other end of the Infirmary. "They're 
still working on Keiko?" 

"Dr. Riis says she's lost a lot of blood. So did you." He glared at  
Julian. "What kind of stunt was that anyway?" 

He shifted on the biobed, unable to suppress a grimace of pain. "It 
wasn't a stunt. It was the only chance the fetus had. Men carry babies 
all the time these days, although not usually in such drastic 
circumstances." He frowned. "Damn." 

Ben clasped Julian's hand. 'Dedicated' was the understatement of the 
century. If he wasn't letting his patients throw him across the room or 
blow him up, he was trying to carry their children for them. 

"Perhaps if I had just-" 

"Julian," Ben interrupted, "you did everything you could. In fact, I 
don't think most doctors would have gone as far as you tried." He saw 
Pauli Riis roll his eyes as he entered the room. "Did you even give 
yourself a painkiller?" 

He ignored the question. "I had to do something," Julian said. "I 
couldn't just sit there and let the fetus die. I'm-" His head dropped 
back on the biobed. 

"Dr. Riis?" 

The blond doctor rushed towards them, peering at the biobed sensors. 
"His vitals are stable. I'll check his pulmonary function..." He ran a 
medical tricorder over Julian's chest. "He's fine; he's simply 
exhausted. Operating on oneself without anaesthetic and losing three 
units of blood in the process will tend to do that." The look on Riis's 
face told him that Sisko wasn't the only one ready to give Julian an 
earful. "May I comm you when he's awake again, Captain? It might be a 
few hours." 

"I'd appreciate that." He looked behind Riis. "How's Professor 
O'Brien?" 

"I've had to put her in stasis to control the hemorrhaging. If we can't 
stop it..." He shook his head. "I have to speak with the Chief. If 
you'll excuse me, sir." 

You magnificent mad genius, Ben thought as he squeezed Julian's hand, 
kissed his forehead again, and left the Infirmary. Despite the gravity 
of the situation he couldn't resist a faint smile as he walked towards 
the lift to Ops. He imagined Julian walking around their quarters naked 
as he usually did at night with a big swollen belly. 

As he entered the lift he wondered what a child of theirs would look 
like. Probably a lot like Jake, he realized. Well, a little lighter-
skinned perhaps, and maybe the eyes would be a bit greener. Julian's 
paternal grandmother was Irish, so the baby might have red hair like 
Kira. Or maybe she'd have black hair and brown eyes, dark skin, a 
little snub nose, and broad shoulders...or maybe it'd be a little boy 
with enormous eyes, long legs, a mop of curly dark brown hair and a 
sweet shy smile... 

He looked up to find himself standing in the lift in Ops, door open, 
Dax smirking at him from her place at the docking console. 

He tugged on his uniform jacket, picked up the shreds of his dignity, 
and walked purposefully to his office. That woman could read his mind 
at times, he thought. 

****** 

"What is that?" Julian said from over his shoulder. 

He smoothed the paper blueprints onto the table. "A Bajoran lightship." 

"A lightship," he repeated. "Isn't that what they found on Cardassia a 
few months ago? In that ancient crash site?" 

"That's exactly what it is. Apparently, the Bajorans used them to 
travel around the region." He looked up at his husband. "And I'm going 
to build one." 

Julian's face went pale. "You're not planning - Ben, are you sure these 
things were airworthy?" 

"Absolutely." He pointed at the blueprints. "Look here. It doesn't 
require a propulsion system, so a small generator is all it needs for 
air recycling and food production. We could even pare that down if we 
brought an adequate supply of food and water." 

"We." 

"Well, yeah. I thought we could-" Ben noticed the look on Julian's 
face. "Doesn't appeal to you?" 

"Not really." He sat down and studied the blueprints. "But you know, 
this would be a great project for you and Jake. Seriously." 

He thought for a second. "He does seem kind of bored, doesn't he?" 

"Exactly. He probably feels like a third wheel around here. This could 
be a chance for you to put him first for a while. He needs it, and to 
be honest so do you. He'll only be young once." 

"You've got a point." If anybody knew about fathers who didn't put 
their kids' best interests first... 

Jake chose that moment to return to their quarters. "Hi, Dad, Julian." 
He walked towards the table. "What's that?" 

"Hi, son. Where have you been?" 

The young man blushed. "Oh, um, just around. I was talking to Nog, and, 
uh, looking around the Promenade, you know." He grinned. 

"Not getting into any trouble, I trust?" Ben said. 

"Absolutely not!" he said. "I was just...looking for something to do, 
that's all." 

Ben smiled. "I think I've found something that might interest you." 

****** 

"Hew-mans and Bajorans make no sense at times," Quark muttered from 
behind the bar. "Giving presents; where is the profit in it?" 

Sisko hid his smile behind his coffee cup. 

"If it were meant to create return business, that might make sense. 
Sometimes you give customers a bonus in order to build loyalty and 
increase profits in the long run. But this? Giving things away to 
people just because you like them?" 

"Social cohesion, Quark. It allows individuals to connect." 

The Ferengi snorted. "That's what Leeta says. If you ask me it's a good 
way to go bankrupt, and I am not meeting the Blessed Exchequer with an 
empty treasury." He wiped the counter. "Every month it's another event. 
Birthday gifts. Wedding gifts. Baby showers. Quickening gifts." He made 
a face at Sisko. "Females. They're behind it all, you know." 

The klaxon suddenly interrupted their conversation; Sisko jumped off 
the stool and rushed to Ops. "Report," he called out. 

"Sensors are picking up eight Ilarian warships dropping out of warp 
600,000 kilometres from Bajor," Li Nalas called out. "They're hailing 
us." 

"Shields up. On screen." 

A large sauroid face appeared on the viewscreen. "This is Captain 
Meerk'keer of the Fleet Carrier Iskandis. I bear a message from our 
President." 

Sisko drew himself to his full height. "This is Captain Benjamin Sisko, 
representing the United Federation-" 

"The President's message is this," the Ilarian continued. "Fourteen 
hours ago, a ship containing members of your species attacked Ilaria, 
causing over 100 deaths. One of those deaths was of a female." The 
reptilian eyes showed rage. "Transmitted herewith is a list of demands. 
If these demands are not agreed to in whole within 48 hours, a state of 
war will exist between the Ilarian Confederacy, the United Federation 
of Planets, and Bajor. We await your reply." The screen went dark. 

He sighed. It had been such a quiet morning, too. "Colonel Li, advise 
the Bajoran government of this development. Provide them with copies of 
Captain Meerk'keer's message and of the demands. Commander Dax, forward 
the message and the demands to Starfleet Command and have the Defiant 
readied for departure. There'll be a staff meeting in the conference 
room in ten minutes. Mr. Eddington, report to Ops immediately." He bent 
over one of the consoles as the demands were translated and displayed 
on the screen. 

"The Planetary Government will never go for any of this," Major Kira 
said as she read the demands over Sisko's shoulder. "They're asking for 
more than our entire gross domestic product. And asking for the First 
Minister and the Federation President to be handed over for their 
justice system to - dispose of? That's impossible." 

"That's the point. They want war." He looked up to see his security 
chief hurrying in. "Mr. Eddington, you were right. The Ilarians have 
come calling. I'll need a short presentation of their tactical 
capabilities ready for our meeting at 1230 hours." 

Eddington nodded. "I have one prepared. What kind of fleet have they 
brought?" 

"Eight warships. They picked their time, too. Dax, is there a Galaxy-
class starship within 48 hours of here?" 

She checked the lists. "Nothing that I can see. The closest is the 
Enterprise, and they're at least four days away at maximum warp. I've 
put out an emergency hail to them." 

"Why are females so valuable?" Kira asked. "Are the Ilarians just 
extremely chivalrous, or..." 

Eddington spoke. "There's only one female born for every 1,000 males. 
Their society is massively polyandrous." He smiled faintly. "The women 
are four times the size of the men." 

Sisko sighed and rubbed his forehead. Of course Eddington would notice 
that. The man was addicted to women who could break every bone in his- 

"Captain!" Li interrupted. "Long-range sensors are picking up nineteen 
Cardassian Galor-class warships." 

Sisko glared at him. "What the - report!" 

"Four are taking up position just outside Bajoran airspace. The other 
fifteen are manoeuvring...going into warp..." He looked up at Sisko. 
"They're heading towards Ilaria." A subspace comm alert beeped. "I'm 
picking up a general hail from the lead ship." 

"On screen." 

The face of a well-seasoned Cardassian army officer was displayed on 
the viewscreen. "Attention Ilarian vessels. This is Gul Hathak of the 
Emperor Minok. You will stand down and return to Ilaria or face 
immediate consequences." 

Sisko and Li exchanged glances. "See if you can pick up the Ilarian 
response." 

Li nodded. "I've got them on split screen." 

"-in violation of Ilarian law," Meerk'keer was saying. "In addition, 
the ship destroyed seventeen buildings and killed 113 individuals, 
including a female. The penalty for the murder of a female on Ilaria is 
death by torture. As the individuals directly responsible for the death 
are not available, we demand that representatives of their respective 
species be provided to our Justice Ministry for appropriate disposal." 

Gul Hathak's voice was full of sarcasm. "And this has nothing to do 
with Ilaria's main uridium mine closing eleven months ago." 

Meerk'keer glared at the screen. "The death of a female must be 
avenged. The ship was manned by humans and Bajorans. They must pay." 

"Captain Meerk'keer, let me tell you something about paying." Hathak 
sat forward in his seat. "For over 40 years, Bajor paid Cardassia, and 
unwillingly, thousands of bricks of latinum every year for a 
'protection pact' which didn't protect it at all. Well, now it's time 
for Cardassia to pay Bajor back, at least in part. If your ships aren't 
out of Bajoran space within thirty minutes and back in Ilarian space 
within six hours, we're going to blast you to atoms. What's more, as we 
speak, fifteen Galor-class warships are on their way to Ilaria. One act 
of hostility by your men against Bajor, Deep Space Nine, a Federation 
or Bajoran vessel, or ourselves and every warship, every expedition 
ship, every transport ship in your system will be destroyed and a state 
of war will exist between the Ilarian Confederacy and the Cardassian 
Empire. Do I make myself clear?" 

The sauroid visibly paled. "You wouldn't. Cardassia has never stood by 
Bajor; why would it do so now?" 

Hathak gave the screen a cool stare. "Times change, Captain Meerk'keer. 
For one thing, no matter how much we dislike each other, right now we 
dislike you more. Get out, Captain. Now." The screen went blank. 

They all stared at the darkened screen for a good ten seconds until a 
comm alert suddenly beeped. 

"Captain, First Minister Shakaar wishes to speak with you," Li said. 

"I'm sure he does. Put it through to my office." At the top of the 
stairs he turned. "We may need to evacuate the station. Pull up the 
relevant procedures and begin preparations." 

Kira looked up at him. "We may not have time." 

"I know. I just-" 

"Captain!" Eddington interrupted. "The Ilarian ships are leaving 
Bajoran space...turning..." He looked up at Sisko. "They've gone into 
warp and are returning to Ilaria." 

The captain let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Put 
Shakaar through." He entered his office. 

****** 

"Captain, Legate Dukat has opened a subspace channel. He wishes to 
speak with you on an urgent personal matter." 

He looked up from his towering pile of reports. What the hell now. "Put 
him through, Commander." 

The channel opened. "Captain Sisko, I need to speak to you about my 
daughter Ziyal." Dukat seemed anxious, even afraid. 

Ziyal? "How can we be of assistance, Dukat? Is she hurt? Should I call 
Major Kira or-" 

"She's fine - that is, I hope she's fine - but I'm afraid this concerns 
you as well. Ziyal is on her way to Earth to rendezvous with your son. 
I can't locate her and I was hoping you could stop her before she 
arrives." 

"What?!?" he thundered. "With Jake?" 

"Apparently they met at your wedding and again recently on Deep Space 
Nine." Dukat frowned. "She appears to have conceived a rather intense 
romantic attachment to him." 

He opened his mouth and closed it again. "But - but I thought they were 
just friends. I didn't see them together except -- she was always 
chaperoned-" Sisko felt a hard lump suddenly form in his stomach. "Oh 
no. Please tell me that's all she's conceived." 

The two men stared at each other in a moment of silent shared horror. 

"I've told that boy I don't know how many times-" 

"Ziyal has been ordered to comport herself as befits a lady-" 

"-to be careful and to think before he gets into trouble." 

"-and not to fly away and do something that she would regret." 

Sisko held up his hands. "We're jumping to conclusions." 

"Yes. We require more facts." 

"I'll have Commander Dax scan the passenger manifests from Cardassia, 
and I'll, um, I'll see if Julian knows whether this could be a 
concern." He was going to take a baseball bat to that boy. What had he 
been thinking? 

Dukat nodded. "It's not easy, Captain, trying to raise a daughter 
alone. Sometimes I just want to-" He pulled himself together. "She left 
approximately eight hours ago and may be travelling under her mother's 
surname of Tora. She's still a minor under Imperial law if that means 
anything with respect to Federation policy. I'm on my way to Deep Space 
Nine as we speak. Please keep me informed if you hear anything. Dukat 
out." The viewscreen went dark. 

He stood up and strode out to Ops, a vein in his temple throbbing. 
"Dax, I've just been advised by Legate Dukat that his daughter Ziyal, 
who is a minor under Cardassian law, left home eight hours ago without 
his knowledge or approval and booked passage for Earth. He'd like us to 
track her down and have her held so he can bring her back. She may be 
travelling under the Bajoran surname Tora." 

"Why is she going to Earth?" she asked as she brought up the manifests 
for the largest passenger carriers between Cardassia and the station. 

Sisko shook his head. "She's gone to visit Jake. For what reason I 
don't know for certain, but I think we can all guess." 

"He must have made quite an impres-" Dax swallowed her words and stared 
at him. "Uh-oh." 

"I'm praying the only thing going on here is a little infatuation," he 
replied. He glared at Kira Nerys, who was doing her best to look 
inconspicuous. "Major, exactly how well did you and the Colonel 
chaperone Miss Dukat?" 

She paled. "Well, we had our duties, and Ziyal said she wanted some 
time to stroll along the Promenade - you know, take in the sights, do 
some shopping, view the Denorios Belt..." 

"View the Denorios Belt," he repeated slowly, giving her a withering 
glare before returning to Dax. "I'll be in the Infirmary ascertaining 
the answers to certain medical questions. Advise me if the Legate opens 
a channel again." 

As he made his way to the Infirmary he wondered what he was going to do 
if worse came to worst. He supposed it wasn't his call; it was Ziyal's 
body, not his. Perhaps he shouldn't assume, he told himself. Maybe it 
was innocent and he and Dukat were needlessly - sure, Ben: girls sneak 
away to meet boys all the time just to hold hands. And he was the Grand 
Negus of Ferenginar. 

"Hi, hun. How are-" Julian put down the medical tricorder he was 
calibrating. "What's the problem?" 

Sisko began to pace. "What are the odds that a half-Cardassian, half-
Bajoran female and a human male could conceive without any special 
treatments?" 

Julian thought for a moment. "You know, that's an interesting question. 
Humans aren't compatible with Bajorans or Cardassians without ovarian 
treatments, but because of the chromosomal alignment pattern we're 
perfectly compatible with most halflings. The odds are pretty good as 
long as neither of them-" He stopped, turned to Sisko, and stared. "Oh 
shit." 

"You didn't give either of them suppressor shots?" 

"I can tell you that neither of them were my patients at any time 
during their visits." 

Sisko stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. "This is by far the 
dumbest thing Jake has ever done. I'm going to kill him." 

"Ben." Julian clasped his arm. "You don't even know if there's anything 
to worry about. What does Ziyal say about this?" 

"I haven't a clue what Ziyal says about this. She's disappeared. I 
don't know if she left a note for Dukat or what, but apparently she's 
on the way to Earth to visit Jake." 

"But you don't even know if they were lovers," Julian pointed out. "She 
could just have a crush on the boy." 

Ben looked at him. "She was sneaking away from Nalas and Nerys using 
the excuse that she wanted to view - the Denorios Belt." 

"The Denorios Belt?" Julian snickered. "That's a new name for it." 

"Julian..." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I know this is a serious matter, but really, 
Ben." He bit back a chuckle. "I'm sorry. You're right, it's probably 
something to worry about. Have you talked to Jennifer yet?" 

He looked over at the chrono. "It's the middle of the night in France. 
This can wait until morning." He stared out at the Promenade. "Damn." 

Julian sighed. "You know, she might just be lovestruck. It can't be 
easy for her being half-Bajoran on Cardassia. Jake's probably the only 
young male who's ever looked at her as anything other than the fast 
track to first officer aboard the Dakor." 

"I hope that's just it. I don't-" 

"Ops to Sisko." 

He hit his badge. "Yes, Commander?" 

"I've found her. She's on a civilian passenger transport that's due to 
stop at Higar in about an hour. She's travelling under the name Arot 
Takud." 

"Arot Takud?" Ben echoed. 

"Tora Dukat backwards," Julian whispered. 

Dax continued. "The Higari won't let a Cardassian warship enter their 
airspace because the Empire hasn't signed the new treaty yet, but 
they'll let us bring in a runabout to pick up Ziyal if we want." 

"Very well. Major, are you there?" 

"Yes, Captain." 

"Kira, I want you to bring Ziyal back to Deep Space Nine. Take Julian 
with you in case she requires medical assistance. Sisko out." 

"I'll prepare a medkit." Julian turned to his instruments. 

Sisko rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Baby, I need you to find out for 
me. I don't care if it's ethical or not. I just - this is the worst 
thing that could ever-" 

Julian looked around, then went back to Ben and took his hands. "No, 
hun, it's not. It'll be all right and I'll be here to help you through 
it. Remember, no matter how bad the news is, Jake is alive and healthy. 
There are hundreds of thousands of families on Bajor who don't have 
their children to be angry at any more. Remember that, okay?" He kissed 
Ben's forehead. 

He sighed. "You're right." Of course Julian was right: he knew what it 
was to lose people he loved. Ben had lost his mother, but Julian had 
lost both his parents, four uncles, two aunts, and a baby brother. 

** 

"I trusted them." Dukat's voice was acidic. 

Sisko frowned at his reflection in the viewport. "We trusted two mature 
adults to look after a 18-year-old girl. The problem is that on Bajor 
an 18-year-old is considered an adult, so they didn't take my orders 
seriously." 

"And they didn't see the need to chaperone her strictly." 

"I told them that Cardassian girls matured at a slower rate than 
Bajorans or Humans. I thought they listened. I thought they understood. 
Then again, I thought my son had a modicum of sense. I thought he would 
think with his brain, not his..." He waved a hand. 

Dukat looked out into Ops. "All the recriminations in the world will 
not change the facts of the matter. If this is nothing but a simple 
infatuation, no harm has been done. I'll return with her to Cardassia 
Prime and find some way to keep her more closely at home. On the other 
hand, if it is a more serious matter, we'll go on from there." He 
peered at Sisko. "I can't say this is something I'm looking forward to 
with unmitigated joy." 

"Nor am I." He wondered if Dukat would even give her a choice -- but 
no, this was a man who left an loveless marriage when his Bajoran 
mistress became pregnant. Such a man wouldn't force his daughter into 
something she wasn't ready for, would he? Sisko returned his gaze. "I 
would hope that if a decision has to be made you would take Jake's 
input into consideration." 

"Of course, but it's her decision to make, not mine." 

He sighed in relief. "I agree." 

They both stared out the viewport, unwilling to discuss the matter 
further at the moment. 

The door chimed. "Enter." 

Dukat took in the exhausted, redolent man who walked through the door. 
"Doctor, you smell terrible." 

"I'm afraid a small runabout isn't the best place for a teenaged girl 
who is quite, um, nauseated," Julian said with a shrug. 

"Damn." Ben slumped in his chair. "Damn damn damn." 

"Ziyal's in the Infirmary right now," Julian continued. "She's resting. 
I don't think she should be moved until tomorrow at the very earliest." 

Dukat gave Julian a puzzled look. "Did I miss something?" 

"Human or part-human pregnancies tend to produce hormones that cause 
nausea and vomiting in the women who carry them. The vomiting can be 
quite severe in non-human mothers, especially in the fourth to eighth 
weeks." 

Dukat's eyes snapped shut, then opened. "May I see her?" 

"Of course," the doctor replied. As Dukat stood to leave, Julian 
touched his arm. "I did mean it about not leaving tonight, sir. She's 
far too weak. I've got her on intravenous fluids and nutrients right 
now. Let her rest until morning at the very earliest." The Cardassian 
nodded, then left. 

He would kill Jake. No, that was wrong: he loved Jake. He wouldn't kill 
him. What was he thinking? He looked up into Julian's face. "What do I 
do?" 

"I don't know." He sat down carefully. "I, um, did a quick external DNA 
scan. She gave me permission." 

"And?" 

"Well, Grandpa..." He reached over and squeezed Ben's hand. "Feel any 
older than you did this morning?" 

"Decades." He sighed and called for a subspace channel to Earth, then 
looked back up. "Promise me something. If you ever catch me acting like 
an old man, you tell me." 

Julian smiled. "Deal." 

******
******
******

But what was the deal with Dukat? 

Ben stared at the ceiling in the dark, unable to sleep, and pondered 
the question. Why was Dukat a thoroughly decent man in this timeline? 
How could closing the wormhole have prevented him from becoming the 
power-mad swaggering egomaniac he had been? 

After his session with the Orb that morning, he had powered up the 
runabout and accessed the station databanks from the ship's comm 
terminal. He learned that Dukat's life in this timeline had been 
radically different than that in the old timeline. He hadn't married 
the same woman, hadn't had the same family - in fact, he and his first 
wife had separated three weeks after their wedding. Another major 
change was that his father hadn't been executed by the Obsidian Order. 
Procal Dukat had retired from the military eighteen years ago and was 
currently working as a judge in the criminal courts. Was that why Dukat 
turned out so differently? If he didn't have to fight for his life and 
his career...or was there some other reason? And why did his past 
change in the first place? 

Could a being from the Gamma Quadrant have somehow influenced Procal 
Dukat to commit a crime or caused him to be arrested? He wondered - and 
then he remembered. In the old timeline, it had been Elim Garak who had 
ordered the execution. Was the original change to Garak and not Dukat? 

He shifted and looked out the side window of the cabin towards a small 
star cluster rising above the horizon. He soon realized it was moving 
too fast for a star cluster: it was Deep Space Nine, its midday lights 
blazing in the Kerasha night as it revolved around Bajor. 

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. 

******

Chapter 11

*******

Ben peered out the partially frosted-over front window the next 
morning. "It's snowing." 

"It started about 0530," Julian replied. "I got up to use the fresher 
and it was just starting. I was wondering why we didn't see the Vedek 
at dinner." 

The snow was falling in big fluffy clumps, Ben noticed; he suspected 
there'd be 40 centimetres or more by evening. "Do you have anything 
planned today?" 

"I thought I'd stop by the orphanage again and see if they needed any 
more help. The nurses and attendants are top-notch but there hasn't 
been a doctor here in over six months." 

He nodded absentmindedly. "I'm going to visit the runabout before I go 
to the Orb this morning and replicate some thermal underwear." Julian 
snorted; he turned around. "What?" 

"Check your drawer," he replied, gesturing towards the chest of drawers 
in the corner. "I packed a set for you. If there's anything I've 
learned in the past four years, it's that you don't take cold well." 

"Thank you." It was true; he simply wasn't used to snow or cold 
weather. He crossed to the chest of drawers and pulled out the thermal 
underwear Julian had brought with them. "I should still get-" but a 
pair of wool socks were sitting right beside the underwear. "You think 
of everything." 

Julian smiled as he poured them each a cup of tea. "Just call me 
Thras." 

"I'd rather not, if you don't mind." He pulled out a fresh pair of 
boxers as well. "That reminds me: did you have a chance to look up that 
information about Andorian antenna movements?" 

"I did, and I downloaded it all to a padd. Now where-" He looked around 
the cabin, then knelt down beside his satchel and rummaged around. He 
finally extricated a padd, read the first page, and looked up. "Here it 
is. I'll leave it on the table if you want to read it later on." 

On his way to the Orb, carrying his teacup in one hand and a blanket 
(to sit on, Julian had said when he handed it to him) in the other, he 
tried to remember if it snowed like this in London. He hoped Julian 
brought a pair of long underwear for himself. It was bitterly cold, 
almost three degrees below freezing. 

Strange, he thought: Julian probably knew more about him than he did 
about himself at that point. 

He sat on the blanket and unlocked the case. 

******
******
******

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir." 

"Do you?" Dukat asked from his chair beside Sisko's. "Your life is 
going to change completely. You'll have responsibilities, duties." 

Jake swallowed and shifted slightly on the sofa. 

"You'll have to support the child eventually, create a sense of duty in 
the child, discipline it, teach it everything it needs to know - there 
are all kinds of responsibilities you probably haven't even thought 
of." 

"That's right," Ben added. "From the day that child is born its needs 
come before yours. In fact, its wants will have to come before your 
needs most of the time. It's very important that you understand-" 

He stopped as the door to their quarters opened and Julian walked in. 
Dark circles ringed his eyes; streaks of dried blood clung to his 
uniform and trailed up his neck to his chin; his shoulders drooped with 
exhaustion. 

"You see how tired Julian looks?" Ben said, inspired. "That's how tired 
you're going to be all the time when-" 

"Are you two still - for the love of God, can't you leave the boy 
alone?!" he exclaimed. He gave Ben and Dukat a filthy glare, then 
stalked into the bedroom. 

"Jake," Dukat said after a thoughtful glance at the bedroom door, "have 
you ever had sem'hal stew? Ziyal was going to make some for dinner, and 
I'm sure there'll be enough for three. I know you like yamok sauce." 

The young man nodded, eager both to see Ziyal and to avoid whatever 
fight was brewing. "I'd like that." He looked at Ben. "If it's okay 
with you, Dad." 

"Go ahead." He stood and waved his hand. 

"He'll return at 2200," Dukat said as the two of them headed out the 
door. 

With a sense of trepidation, Ben entered the bedroom. 

Julian glared at him as he unclasped his comm badge and placed it on 
the bedside table. "You know, you and Dukat are going to go too far 
with this." 

He frowned back. "Jake needs to be scared straight." 

"If Jake not being straight was the problem, we wouldn't be in this 
mess." A boot went tumbling towards the corner of the bedroom as Julian 
began to undress. "He's seventeen years old. He made a mistake." The 
other boot joined its mate. "So did she. One mistake." 

"Julian..." 

"Do they really deserve this fear-mongering? You're not scaring them 
into responsibility, you're scaring them out of it." His socks went 
flying towards the recycler. 

"Jake has to realize-" 

"Oh, he realizes, Ben. Don't think for a moment that he doesn't 
realize. He's terrified as it is; he doesn't need you and Dukat rubbing 
it in like salt into a wound." Julian's uniform jacket hit the side of 
the cycler and slid onto the floor. "Suddenly his entire future has 
been changed in an instant. He doesn't know if he's going to be able to 
go to the Academy, he doesn't know if he has any chance of a meaningful 
career, he doesn't know anything. He needs support, not constant 
nagging. At the rate you're scaring him he's going to run away from it 
all." His turtleneck and trousers joined the jacket. "And these - these 
scare tactics are just bullshit. Are you telling me that there's 
nothing at all good about having children?" 

"Well, of course-" 

"Are you upset that Jennifer and you had Jake? Was being a parent such 
a horrible thing that you wouldn't go through it again yourself?" He 
pitched his briefs into the corner and headed for the bathroom, a scowl 
on his face. "I need a shower." 

Ben wondered what had brought this on - but of course. He followed 
Julian into the bathroom (feeling a bit like he was bearding the lion 
in his den) and found him fiddling angrily with the sonic controls in 
the shower. 

"Bloody piece of-" 

"Who died?" 

Julian froze. A few seconds later, he leaned forward and pressed his 
head against the tile. "She had only been here five days." 

Ben waited for him to continue. 

He finally spoke. "Five days, Ben, and one of those piece-of-shit 
runabouts kills her." 

"Who was it?" 

"Ensign Bruno. She was piloting the Danube, bringing a vedek to the 
station from Dakhur. The Danube's pressurization failed about 50 
kilometres from docking. She was still alive when they transported her 
in." His hand dropped from the sonic controls. "All I could do was 
prolong her death. The internal damage was so severe that the moment I 
repaired one torn artery two others would burst open. Then she 
developed cerebral edema. I couldn't reduce her blood pressure any more 
or I'd risk cardiac arrest; I couldn't even give her anything for the 
pain. If I had just done nothing she would have been dead within a 
minute. I kept her alive, unable to move but in agony, for almost half 
an hour, and what good did it do her?" 

"Who was he?" At Julian's puzzled look, he clarified. "The vedek." 

"She was a woman; Marel something, I think I overheard Nalas saying. 
The rupture must have been on her side; she was killed instantly." 

Ben walked up to the edge of the shower stall and slid his hand between 
Julian's shoulder blades, trying to massage some of the tension out. 
"You never get used to losing a patient, do you?" 

"I hope I never do." He let out a sigh. "But I'm sorry; I shouldn't 
have lost it like that. It wasn't fair." 

"I understand. And you do have a point. Maybe we are being a bit 
overbearing." 

They stood silently together, Julian leaning into his touch as Ben 
massaged the tight muscles in his shoulders. "Do you think Jake and 
Ziyal will have to marry?" Julian eventually said. 

"I'm the only one who isn't wildly in favour of it, and I'm not sure if 
my opinion much counts. I don't think Dukat could stand it if his first 
grandchild were illegitimate, even if the laws on Cardassia have 
changed." 

"I'm sure Ladam will perform the ceremony if you don't want to." 

"I think Dukat is expecting me to, though. I just-" He suddenly noticed 
the blood streaks on Julian's chin again. "You probably want to have 
that shower. We can talk later." 

He looked up and scowled again. "If I could get this damn thing to 
work." He hit the controls again, and the sonics finally came to life. 

"Are you going to use water? I'll get you a robe and a towel." 

"Thanks, hun. Sometimes I don't know why you put up with me." He pulled 
the shower door shut. 

Because I love you, Ben thought. And because you're right. 

****** 

He glared at the three Ferengi sitting in front of him, hoping to hell 
that he wasn't going to get roasted over the coals by the Department of 
Temporal Investigations over this fiasco. "Tell me exactly why you 
decided to visit Earth in the first place." 

"It's like this, Captain," Quark began. "My cousin Gaila finally 
coughed up the ship he had owed me for years, so we decided to take it 
to Earth. We had some cargo that we thought would sell during the 
religious festival Jake told Nog about." 

"Statues," Sisko said, "of the Virgin Mary." Nude and anatomically 
correct, if Chief O'Brien was to be believed. 

"Uncle Quark said Humans who celebrated Easter were suckers for-" 

Quark scowled at Nog, who closed his mouth and shrunk in his seat. 
"Anyway, apparently cousin Gaila realized that if the three of us died 
he would inherit our wealth. He sabotaged the ship." 

"I had to force the ship out of warp to stop it from crashing," Rom 
explained. "I, uh, vented warp plasma into the cargo hold-" 

"Destroying most of our profit," Quark interjected. 

"We'd be dead if I hadn't, brother." 

Sisko waved his hand, stopping the bickering. "Hold on. How did that 
get you back to Ancient Earth?" 

The three of them looked at each other nervously. "I'm not sure about 
that," Quark volunteered. 

"It didn't have anything to do with the kemocite you had in the cargo 
bay?" He tapped a padd in front of him. "I had Chief O'Brien look over 
your ship once you returned. He found traces of it near the remaining 
boxes of cargo." It was probably better for Ferengi-Human relations in 
the long run that Quark hadn't reached modern Earth; the chief's 
comments on the figurines had been colourful, to say the least. 

"Well, I suppose, um..." Quark tilted his head. "There could have been 
some kemocite back there." 

Sisko sighed. "Where and when did you go?" 

"A place called Roswell. I don't know the stardate." 

Nog spoke up. "The female said the year was 1947, but I don't-" 

"The female?" he thundered. "You had contact with ancient Humans? Don't 
you know-" and then something tickled his memory. Roswell? It couldn't 
be...of course, if they hadn't gone, he might not have it in his 
memory, or -- God, he hated temporal mechanics. 

"Anyway, I figured out how to get us back," Rom said. "I, uh, fixed 
Gaila's sabotage and did the opposite of what I did before." 

"Without changing anything." 

"Well," Quark said, shrugging, "like Nog said, we met up with a few 
humans. They talked to us - after Rom fixed our universal translators, 
that is. Do you know they were all addicted to inhaling smoke from 
burning leaves back then? It was disgusting. And they kept sticking 
needles in our hands." 

Sisko blinked. "Needles?" 

"They kept putting some drug into us with a needle to make us talk, but 
all it did was hurt," Rom said. "I took Nog to the Infirmary as soon as 
we got back in case it was a slow poison - Quark wouldn't go." 

"If it was a poison, brother, the doctor would have told you and I 
would have got treatment from a more compe-" Quark swallowed his words. 
"-from a Ferengi physician." 

"Mr. Quark." Did other station commanders have to put up with crap like 
this? he wondered. "Report to the Infirmary immediately. You may have 
picked up a bacterial or viral infection when you were on Earth, and I 
don't need an epidemic of an ancient disease running rampant on my 
station. Have the physician on duty give you a complete pathogenic 
sweep. That's an order. Dismissed." 

He hit his comm badge after they left his office. "Captain Sisko to 
Infirmary." 

Pauli Riis answered. "Infirmary." 

"Doctor, Quark should be arriving at the Infirmary within ten minutes. 
He's been back in time to ancient Earth, and he could have carried any 
number of diseases back with him. I'm assuming most of us aren't 
immunized against them." 

"That's correct, sir. He could be carrying anything from giardia to 
smallpox to HIV, depending on when he was there and what he did, and if 
he didn't use a transporter...well, even the transporters don't get 
everything. I'll perform a complete decon physical. It could take a few 
hours and isn't terribly comfortable." 

"I don't care about Quark's comfort. I care about the safety of the 
station residents. If he's not there in fifteen minutes send a security 
detail for him. And check whether Rom and his son have undergone 
anything similar. Get them in too if they haven't." 

"Understood. Riis out." 

He shook his head and returned to his paperwork. 

****** 

"I forgot to tell you. I received a letter this afternoon from a 
holograph engineer on Jupiter Station, a Dr. Lewis Zimmerman." 

"What did he want?" Julian asked as he rolled over to face him. 

"He wants to use you as a template for a long-term medical hologram. I 
guess he's heard about your bedside manner." 

Julian snickered and ran a hand up Ben's chest. "What have you been 
telling him?" 

"Very funny, baby. Apparently he needs to know everything about you in 
order to complete the programming." 

"Everything?" He frowned. "Ben, we can't tell him everything." 

"I wasn't planning to; don't worry. What bothers me just as much is 
that the holograms would be self-aware and sentient. Creating a 
sentient being like that, one that could be exterminated with an erase 
command...it just sticks in my craw. It's almost a form of slavery." 

"I hadn't thought of that. Couldn't you tell Zimmerman that I disagree 
with the program for moral reasons?" 

"I don't think your assistance is considered voluntary. Maybe if I told 
him your father was a criminal." 

"I don't know if he'd believe you. Dad told the family he was a 
landscape artist or a waste extraction engineer - people thought he was 
glorifying being a gardener or a garbageman. It was the perfect cover 
story. Nobody suspected that he was really a money launderer." He made 
a face. "He was such a liar. Even when there was no reason to lie, he'd 
lie anyway just to keep in practice." 

"Are you serious?" He stared at Julian. 

"You wouldn't believe it. You know when I told you that they had 
enhanced me? They always told me that I had been five years old when it 
happened. I found out by looking at the Adigeon records that I was 
actually seven. Either that or I'm two years younger than I think I 
am." 

"What does your birth certificate say?" 

"Whatever they wanted it to, I suspect." He thought for a moment. "You 
know, Zimmerman might not believe us, but he'd certainly believe the 
Euro Police. I doubt he'd want to use the son of one of Europe's most 
notorious money launderers as a template for a compassionate, caring 
hologram." 

"Good idea. I'll message him." 

"Tomorrow." Julian moved his hand down. 

****** 

"Nine hours ago," Sisko said as he sat at the head of the wardroom 
table, "a Romulan invasion force estimated at 80,000 soldiers reached 
the outer Andorian settlements. Four and a half hours ago, Andoria 
itself went dark after broadcasting a Code Factor One. We've now 
received word that the entire Epsilon Indi system has fallen. The 
Federation Council has just passed a resolution declaring that a state 
of war exists between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire." He 
looked around at his senior officers. Thras was clearly upset - her 
family lived in one of the settlements - but the faces of the rest of 
his staff were as grim as his. 

He looked down at his hands. "I know some of you might be tempted to 
transfer onto ships that will be participating in the war effort. Some 
of you have a personal stake in this," he said, looking at Thras, "and 
others might find serving on Deep Space Nine a bit boring compared to 
fighting to save one of the founding planets of the Federation. 
Nevertheless, I ask that you remain at your posts for the time being, 
or that at least you speak with me before you make any irrevocable 
decision. I've just spoken with Admiral Barron; he stressed the 
importance of Deep Space Nine in ensuring the stability of this sector 
and the surrounding ones. The danger to Bajor from Ilaria is still very 
real." 

"And there's the coup attempt on Cardassia as well," Eddington added. 

He nodded. "Intelligence reports out of Prime claim - and this is 
strictly among us - that two of the three senior conspirators in the 
plot were Tal Shiar operatives surgically modified to look like 
Cardassians." 

O'Brien let out a low whistle. "Who was the third?" 

"Gul Kerad's widow," Thras said. "She claimed she was avenging her 
husband." 

"Be that as it may," Sisko continued, "Starfleet expects this station 
to continue to operate at peak efficiency, and for that I'm going to 
need each and every one of you. I need security, science, intelligence, 
medical, and ship's systems to function as efficiently as they have in 
the past. Dismissed." 

The crew filed out - all but Li Nalas, who remained in his seat. 

"Ready for the wedding?" he asked Li. 

"I suppose so. It seems like I've been waiting forever. Nerys has had 
so many qualms and worries..." He swiveled in his chair. "I hope you 
don't mind me asking, but what did the Prophets say to you yesterday?" 

He sighed and stared out the viewport towards the location of the 
wormhole in the Denorios Belt. "They showed me a vision of what would 
happen to Bajor if it joined the Federation." 

"What was it like?" 

"Not good," he said with a grimace. "I advised Opaka to speak against 
petitioning for admission at the Vedek Assembly tomorrow. I'm more 
worried about the wormhole. What if the Romulans find a way of opening 
it? Could they destroy the Prophets? Would they try to reach the Gamma 
Quadrant? And who's out there on the other side? Are they friendly?" 

"Maybe we'll never know," Li said. "Maybe the Prophets are protecting 
us. Zocal's Prophecies seem to say so." 

He picked up a stylus and examined it absentmindedly. "I hope Zocal was 
right." 

****** 

"Quark to Dr. Bashir." 

Julian dropped the medical journal to his lap and gave Ben an annoyed 
look. "I've told him I don't know how many times over the past year 
that I changed my name but he will not listen." He tapped his comm 
badge. "Yes, Quark, what is it?" 

"Um, it's the First Minister. He's at the bar and he won't leave, and 
he's a bit...well, I thought you might be able to help..." 

They stared at each other. Julian rolled his eyes. "On my way." He rose 
from his seat. "Where did you put my medkit again, hun?" 

"It's in the bedroom, bottom shelf on the left." Ben put down the 
report he had been working on. "Maybe I should go with you. There may 
be a question of protocol." 

"Probably a good idea." Julian retrieved the medkit from the bedroom 
and ordered an antitox hypospray from the replicator. "But why would 
Shakaar get drunk in Quark's bar?" he asked as they left their quarters 
and headed for the turbolift. "Then again, why is he on Deep Space 
Nine? He wasn't at the wedding. At least I didn't see him there." 

"Neither did I. Wasn't Kira part of his cell in the Resistance? You'd 
think he'd have given her away. Well, I suppose they don't do that at 
Bajoran weddings, but still, you'd think she'd have wanted him there." 

Julian gave him a puzzled look. "You don't think Shakaar disapproves of 
Li, do you?" 

"I can't see why he would," he replied as they entered the lift. "He's 
a hero of the resistance, a high-ranking member of the Militia, an 
honourable man - I can't see why Shakaar would have any reservations 
whatsoever." 

"This might not have anything to do with the wedding at all. Remember, 
Legate Dukat was here. Maybe they had a meeting and things didn't turn 
out well. But still," Julian said as they exited the turbolift, "why he 
would turn to drink -- it doesn't seem very, I don't know, First 
Ministerial." They turned into Quark's. 

And there he was, Shakaar Edon, resistance hero, First Minister of 
Bajor, his normal plastiform blow-dried magnificence shot to hell as he 
sat dead drunk at the corner table of the bar. 

Julian frowned as they walked up to him and tried to get his attention. 
"First Minister..." 

"How cou'she do it?" He turned bleary eyes up to them. "How cou'Nrees 
go off with tha' man and leave me here?" 

"Leave you here, First Minister?" Ben said, astounded. "But she's on 
her honeymoon. Why would she-" 

"Dinn't she know how I felt about her? Dinn't she know I loved her?" he 
cried out as he sank a few centimetres down into his chair. 

"Well," Julian started, sitting to Shakaar's left while motioning Ben 
to sit to the First Minister's right, "perhaps she didn't. Did you tell 
her?" 

He turned to Julian. "I - I told 'er I loved 'er. I told her she was 
makin' a huge mistake by marryin' that man. He's old 'nough to be her 
fa'er." Ben counted eleven glasses on the table. That would take a 
triple dose of antitox, if he calculated correctly. 

"Mm-hmm," Julian continued, passing Ben the hypo behind Shakaar's back. 
"And what did she say?" 

Ben adjusted the dose while Shakaar replied. "She - she said she 
respected my bleefs but that she loved Nalas." He spat out the last 
word as if it were an obscenity. "T'th'Prophets wi' Nalas." He suddenly 
turned to Ben and batted away his hand. "Don wann that either. Wanna be 
drunk." 

He took a deep breath. "Perhaps you should come with us, First 
Minister. You're making a spectacle of yourself here." 

"Donn care." 

"Trust me," Julian interjected, "you will in the morning. Come on." He 
lifted Shakaar from his seat and half-carried him out of Quark's. Ben 
walked on Shakaar's other side, trying to shield him from the view of 
passersby. 

"Where we goin'?" Shakaar said to Julian as the three of them ducked 
down the hallway and into a side corridor. 

"Since you won't accept an antitox shot, as chief medical officer I 
have no alternative but to call Lieutenant-Commander Eddington and have 
you placed in protective custody." 

"Pertective custody? Y'mean jail? Thass not -- why doncha jus take me 
t'th'Infirm'ry?" Shakaar suddenly plastered himself against Julian, 
slamming him against the bulkhead. "Yer a cute one. Why doncha give me 
onea dem full medcals-" 

Ben sighed and held the hypospray against Shakaar's neck. He 
immediately turned and growled, "Cap'n, I said I dinn't want-" The drug 
took effect; Shakaar stood up straight and held his head as if it were 
in danger of exploding. "Oy. I'll just - I'll just go to my rooms." 

"You have quarters on the station?" Ben asked. 

"Mmm," Shakaar replied as he lurched off towards the Habitat Ring. 

They watched him go. "He shouldn't be flying a runabout in that state. 
I'll comm Security and have them impound it for the night," Julian 
said. 

Ben frowned at his husband. "What is it with you? Some kind of cologne 
you wear?" 

"I haven't a clue. All I can tell you is, if the Kai so much as lays a 
finger on me, I swear to God I'm moving back to Earth." 

"How about the President of Ilaria?" 

Julian's gaze was as cold as ice. "Sleep on the sofa, Ben." 

****** 

"Jake's grown up too fast," he said to Dax as they sat at a table in 
the Replimat. "One day he was a baby and suddenly, it's just - I feel a 
hundred years old." He pushed the cold congealed ziti around on his 
plate. 

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. He's eighteen. Did you 
think you were a child at that age?" 

"It's not the same. I didn't end up the subject of a shotgun wedding. I 
was more mature, more able to take care of myself." 

"That's not how I remember it." She sipped on her raktajino. "In fact, 
I think he's more mature than you were. Remember Molos Kin?" 

He glared at her. "I just keep thinking that he's losing out on so 
much. What if he decides-" 

The station suddenly quaked with a mighty roar; tables rocked on their 
bases and unoccupied chairs tumbled over. He and Dax took off for Ops 
at a run as the klaxon blared. 

"There's been an explosion aboard the Enterprise," Eddington called out 
to them as they entered. "I've activated Emergency Codes 3 and 49." 

"Any chance of this being a warp core event?" Sisko asked, worried 
about more than a major medical or structural emergency. 

He shook his head. "Warp core's undamaged. The explosion arose in the 
area of their aft cargo bay. Thalmerite, it looks like from spectral 
analysis." 

"Thalmerite?" Dax asked. "Why would they store thalmerite in a cargo 
bay? That should be in the armory behind force fields." 

He held up a hand. "Damage report, Commander?" 

"Minor damage to all three upper pylons. Repair and security crews have 
been dispatched." He looked up. "The explosion blew upwards and aft for 
the most part. The secondary hull of the ship took most of the damage. 
Upper pylons 1 and 3 were empty." 

He nodded. Thank God it had been a slow day. If there had been a ship 
at either of the other docking bays... 

"I'm getting reports of major casualties from the Enterprise," Kira 
Nalas said from his position at the operations console. "I've just 
transported three individuals from the ship to the Infirmary." 

"Cargo Bays 2 and 3 are empty, sir," Eddington added. 

He nodded. "Comm the duty officer on the Enterprise and ask him what he 
needs from us." 

Julian's voice suddenly came through the comm system. "Infirmary to 
Ops." 

Sisko responded. "You have Cargo Bays 2 and 3. Transporters are ready. 
Anything else you need?" 

They could hear indistinct shouting in the background. "Anybody there 
speak Klingon, Ben?" 

Sisko nodded at Dax. "I'm on my way," she called out as she headed 
towards the Promenade. 

He addressed Kira Nerys at the docking console. "Major, reroute all 
incoming traffic to the lower pylons. Comm the Bethune - they shouldn't 
be more than an hour or two away at maximum warp - and have them return 
to the station." He turned to Nalas at the operations console. 
"Colonel, advise Bajor that we've had an incident and ask them to 
cancel shuttle service for the afternoon. Let them know we'll likely 
need medical support. I'll contact Starfleet Command." He headed for 
his office. 

His people had everything well in hand, he thought as he sat at his 
desk; the dozens of hours of training they went through each year were 
paying off. It did make him feel a bit unnecessary, though, during an 
actual emergency, but he supposed that was the point. He switched on 
his terminal and began to collate the information he'd need for his 
report to Command. 

Kira Nalas commed him ten minutes later. "Captain, the Infirmary 
reports that a Lieutenant-Commander Worf from the Enterprise has died. 
Apparently he was the ship's chief of security." 

"Thank you, Colonel," he replied. "You had better connect me with the 
Enterprise's duty officer." 

"Aye, sir." 

Worf...where had he heard that name before? Maybe O'Brien had mentioned 
him once. 

****** 

"Sivok to Dr. Sisko." 

Ben cracked an eye open and stared at the chrono. 0443. Had Ziyal gone 
into- 

"Yes, what is it," Julian said. 

"I think we may have a situation." Sivok was speaking in low tones. 

They both sat up, alarmed at Sivok's unusual tone of voice. "What's the 
problem?" 

"I'm in the Habitat Ring, in the hallway outside Michael Eddington's 
quarters. You'll remember the Klingon sisters who were at the reception 
for the Rotarren this evening?" 

Ben's eyes went wide. "Lursa and B'Etor?" he said. 

"Those were their names, yes, Captain." He paused. "I just saw them at 
Commander Eddington's quarters as they left. They were somewhat 
déshabillés, I believe the word is." 

Julian and Ben stared at the comm badge, at each other, then back at 
the comm badge. "No," they both said. Ben clapped his hand to his 
forehead. 

"I swear," Sivok said. "I saw them." 

Julian spoke up. "We believe you. It's just so-" He bit back a laugh, 
then took a deep breath. "Okay. This is what we'll do. Check on him. If 
he doesn't open his door, use a medical override. Beam him to the 
Infirmary or call a med team if necessary. I'll comm Jabara and - no, 
I'll just go to the Infirmary anyway. Odds are at the very least he's 
got a broken bone or two." 

"Understood. Sivok out." 

Julian hopped out of bed. "What was that consecrated idiot thinking?" 
he said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of briefs. "Not 
just one Klingon but two. Two! He could be dead! What the hell was he 
think- Oh my god!" He turned to look at Ben. 

"What?" 

"Klingons and humans are reproductively compatible and Klingon women 
don't generally use birth control. And unless he's getting his shots 
somewhere else..." 

Ben ran his hand over his face. "That idiot." 

"If both of them fall pregnant Martok will kill him - well, if he's not 
already dead." Julian pulled the uniform turtleneck over his head. "Do 
you want to come in with me and yell at him?" 

"Can't. There's nothing in the regulations that covers it. You can be 
stupid and knock up Klingon warriors all you want in your off hours." 

He grimaced as he slipped into his trousers. "Ridiculous. Every other 
woman on this damn station seems to be falling pregnant without even 
trying and -- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." 

"It's okay." 

"It's just that at his age he should know better. He's not a 17-year-
old boy. I hope he - well, I'll be back soon unless I'm not," he said 
before kissing Ben, grabbing his jacket and boots, and leaving. 

****** 

Ziyal's pregnancy had been the longest eleven months of his life. Well, 
at least the last ten months of it. 

They had all left that morning, Dukat, Ziyal and little Miali for 
Cardassia, Jake for the Academy. He had spent the day catching up with 
the ephemera of bureaucracy that had piled up over the last week and 
had by 1700 got to the bottom of his pile of reports. Now all he wanted 
was a hot meal and some time alone with his husband, a precious 
commodity after the past three weeks. 

Where was Julian anyway? He checked their bedroom, the bathroom, and 
the main room before wandering into the spare bedroom where Ziyal and 
the baby had been staying since the birth. And there he was: leaning up 
against the wall, a look of infinite and wistful sadness on his face as 
he stared at the empty crib. 

"It's so quiet it's like being in a cathedral," Julian said. "I miss 
her already." 

Ben grinned at him. "They'll be back in a month or two and we can visit 
them any time. It's only an hour or so to Cardassia, after all." 

"I suppose." He gave another look at the empty crib, then took Ben's 
hand and walked with him into the main room. "What are we having for 
dinner?" 

"My vegetable shipment's late this week; I thought we'd get something 
from the replicator. Clay pot chicken sound good?" 

"Fine," Julian flopped down on the sofa. "Just water for me to drink, 
please. I must have had five cups of tea while I was going through 
reports this afternoon." 

He ordered the food and drinks and set them down on the coffee table 
before taking his seat beside Julian. "I thought you and Miles were 
going to spend some time in the holosuites." 

"Keiko suddenly decided she's going back to Bajor." Julian picked at 
his chicken. "Miles is off trying to talk her out of it. She's planning 
on leaving tomorrow morning." 

Ben swallowed a bite of potato and onion. "I wish him luck. Long-
distance relationships are tough." 

"It's worse than that," Julian said. "She's clinically depressed and 
she's not letting anyone in, not even Miles. It's not just losing the 
baby, either; apparently that security officer from the Enterprise, the 
first one who died, was the one who delivered Molly. She's taking his 
death hard." 

"Can't you send her to Telnorri?" he asked. 

"She's not formally stationed here, so I can't order her to do 
anything. I asked Telnorri to speak with her once but she wouldn't have 
anything to do with him." He took a sip of water. "The only thing I 
could do was to get in touch with the head of her agrobiology 
expedition and advise him of my concerns. I don't think he took them 
very seriously." 

"He's probably just happy to get his lead botanist back." 

"I hope that's all it is." He pushed his plate away. 

"Not hungry?" 

"Nah." He gave Ben a lazy smile. "At least not for food." 

Ben put down his fork. "Come here." 

They fell into each other's arms. 

******
******
******

"You'll have ten bones in each wrist when you grow up, and I have 
eight. You'll have six cranial bones, and I have eight. You have one 
common carotid artery, and I have two." 

Ben leant against the doorjamb, listening to Julian's soft voice, 
wondering why the man thought a lecture on comparative anatomy would 
interest the infant. Then again, at that age probably any pleasant 
voice would be equally interesting. 

"Your lungs have four lobes each, and I have one lung with three lobes 
and one lung with two. Your descending colon is on the right of your 
abdominal cavity, and mine is on the left. Your big toe is shorter than 
your second toe, and mine is longer." 

"Mine's shorter too." 

Julian looked up and gave Ben a smile. "And that's why you're the 
Emissary," he said in a quiet voice. "How was the Orb today?" 

"Same as ever." He walked over to the crib and looked down at the 
wiggling infant. "She's a busy one for her age." 

"Her name's Toreth Sima. Toreth Adain's daughter. They brought her here 
yesterday." 

"She's tiny. Isn't she supposed to be twelve weeks old?" 

"Thirteen, actually, but you're right: she is tiny for a Bajoran baby. 
That's partly because she's half-Simaran, but she's also significantly 
undernourished." He smiled down at the girl, who made swimming 
movements with her arms and legs in response. "Miali did that when she 
was that age." 

"Jake did too. Usually when I was trying to change him. Then he'd-" 

"Yes, that's your toe." Julian had blocked him out again. "Don't chew 
on it. Do you want your binky? You do? How about Tiger? You want Tiger 
too?" He gave the yellow stuffed animal (which didn't look much like a 
tiger in Ben's opinion) to the baby, who hugged it fiercely as she 
grinned up at them behind her pacifier. "She looks like you." 

Ben gave him a puzzled look. "Baby, she's a blonde." 

"She has your smile. And your feet." 

They both suddenly looked up as a discreet cough came from the doorway. 
A nurse stood there holding a bottle. 

"I suppose it's time for her feeding," Ben said. 

The nurse smiled. "And her afternoon nap. How is she, Doctor?" 

"She could be better." Julian went into physician mode. "She's 
deficient in lysine, niacin, calciferol, folic acid, and iron, and her 
ascorbic acid requirements appear to be somewhat higher than that of a 
full-blooded Bajoran infant," he said. "I'm going to prescribe an oral 
supplement solution..." 

As he waited for Julian to explain his prescription and code it into 
the nursery replicator, Ben thought about his session with the Orb that 
morning. Despite the numerous references in the day's session to 
infants, Ben was of the opinion that the day's lesson had been more 
about death than birth. Gianna Bruno, Vedek Marel, Worf, Kirayoshi 
O'Brien -- four individuals who didn't live out their normal lifespans 
because of the changes he, the Prophets, and the Q had made. Did Jadzia 
and Jennifer's survival make up for those deaths? And would the 
casualties of the Andorian War even out those of the Dominion War? 

The First Dominion War, he reminded himself. The Second Dominion War 
saw the destruction of Earth, Bajor, Vulcan, Betazed...the list of 
ravaged planets went on and on. Fifty billion deaths in fifteen months. 
Yes, it had been the right decision, he thought. 

He placed his hand in the small of Julian's back once he was done. 
"Let's go back to the cabin." 

Julian gave the infant a final sad look, then nodded and accompanied 
Ben out of the orphanage. "Too bad, isn't it?" he said, huddling in his 
jacket as they stepped into the cold, crisp night. 

"What do you mean?" 

He kicked aside a chunk of snow that had evaded the acolytes' shovels. 
"She's not likely to be adopted out. I doubt any Bajoran would adopt a 
half-Simaran infant, and on Simar sex workers are so reviled that their 
children are virtually untouchable." 

"I didn't know that. Will she be okay?" 

"Physically, she'll recover from the malnutrition; we caught it early 
enough to correct it without any major damage being done. 
Emotionally..." He shrugged. "Orphans never have it easy, even in the 
best of situations." 

Ben had an idea of what Julian was thinking about. He had recognized 
the longing in his eyes when they had been in the baby's bedroom on 
DS9; it was the same look he had given the infant they had just left. 

Julian wanted to be a father. 

He didn't feel he could bring the topic up himself; pushing the issue 
might be one of the small changes Q had warned him about. The problem 
was that he didn't know how he was supposed to respond if Julian 
brought it up first. Had he been against them having a child of their 
own? Were they waiting for some reason? Or had they simply never 
discussed it before? He sighed and jammed his fists into the pockets of 
his outer robe. "Chilly, isn't it?" he said. 

Julian shrugged, saying nothing. 

They entered the cabin; Ben crouched by the fireplace and began to 
build a fire while Julian removed his coat and boots. 

He heard Julian rummaging around in the chilling unit. "You want 
whipped cream on your raktajino?" 

"I'd prefer cinnamon, if we have it." 

"How about I'danian caramatha?" 

"Sounds good." He lit the fire and warmed his hands as it began to burn 
brightly. "This should warm us up." 

Julian smirked at him from the sofa, his earlier gloominess gone. "Come 
over here and I'll warm you up." 

******

Chapter 12

******

Lieutenant-Commander Thras was a better actor than he had realized. 

The sound of sleet hitting the roof tiles had woken him up early; he 
had put on his heavy robe, made himself a pot of kastar tea, and sat 
down with the padd Julian had made for him. 

He had assumed from seeing Thras with Garak that the commander 
distrusted the Cardassian, since she always turned her antennae in his 
direction whenever they met. Ben had assumed that was a sign of 
vigilance, even wariness, but he'd been wrong. According to the 
psychological texts Julian had accessed, antenna pointing was actually 
a sign of strong romantic attraction. 

So Thras hadn't exactly been lying to Tain when she told him she was 
'in love' with Garak. If she hadn't actually lied to Sisko, she also 
hadn't been completely straightforward, at least from what he had seen. 
The lack of candor concerned him, especially considering what she had 
said during the first meeting with her that the Orb had shown him. What 
had she said - something like, 'Cardassians wouldn't loathe the 
Obsidian Order like we in the Federation would if a similar 
organization existed here'? A damning comment if one knew the facts 
behind the statement. 

He had to face the possibility that Thras was a Section 31 operative. 
It made sense: the section didn't have the same sense of honour that 
the rest of Starfleet did, and the way she had manipulated him into 
helping to change the power structure on Cardassia...perhaps they 
hadn't exactly broken the Prime Directive, since he in fact did provide 
information gathered by one Cardassian to another, but still it had 
been highly irregular. His official records showed that their visit to 
Tain had been logged as a personal meeting to discuss the future of 
Elim Garak. Did anyone wonder why Tain staged a coup only a few months 
after he and Thras had visited him? Did anybody else on the station 
know exactly why they had gone to Arawath? Eddington might, he 
considered; he would have had to wonder why Thras asked him what Tain's 
rank would be on Earth. Then again, she might simply have asked him 
what rank a silash would have. 

An awful realization hit him: if Thras was Section 31, Julian was in 
danger. If they ever found out about his enhancements - Ben's stomach 
flipped at the possibility that the man could be blackmailed yet again 
into the Section by the likes of Luther Sloan. He sighed as he looked 
out at the lightening sky; Thras was a good officer from what he had 
seen, but she had to go. 

It wasn't easy to get rid of an officer who had no black marks and who 
didn't want to leave, though, even if you were her commanding officer. 
And since he had to pretend he had never heard of Section 31...then 
again, maybe he could take a page out of her book and kill two birds 
with one stone. 

His tea had gotten cold by the time the sun crossed the horizon. He 
looked over at the sleeping mats in the corner of the cabin; Julian was 
still asleep, sprawled face down beneath the thick blankets. 

"Hey," he said as he knelt by the mat. 

Julian looked up at Ben. "'s time to get up already?" he yawned, 
blinking his eyes at the morning light. 

"Just about. You said last night that you were going to go back to the 
orphanage?" 

He rolled over. "Ten more minutes." 

"Come on, get up," Ben told him as he stood and walked to the galley. 
"I'll make you a cup of raktajino." 

"Mmfff." 

Later, as he sat in front the Orb of Time and prepared to unlock its 
secrets for the day, he wondered what was worse: Thras's single sin of 
omission or the outright lies he had been forced to tell in order to 
keep this timeline as it was. 

He sighed and opened the cabinet. 

******
******
******

"What I don't understand about this is why they're celebrating her 
first birthday. She's only three months old." He selected the next 
image in the holo-catalogue. No, too old for her. He clicked again. 

"Cardassians count their age from the date of conception, and the 
Cardassian year is longer than ours," Julian explained. "Counting from 
that date, she's one Cardassian year old." 

"Cardassian birthdays, Bajoran birthdays, Human birthdays - she's going 
to be spoiled to death." He nodded towards the new image he had 
selected. "That's cute." 

"It's a little warm in Dakura City for a wool bunting bag, isn't it?" 

"Good point." He brought up a holopuzzle. "How about this?" 

"I like that. It looks educational." 

"Damn." Ben pointed at the warning at the bottom of the image. 
'Suitable for ages 2 and up.' "I hate shopping," he said as he switched 
the catalogue off. 

"You know," Julian said, "there's a toy store on the second level of 
the Promenade. I bet the guy who runs it knows more about this than we 
do." 

"Probably. Shall we go?" 

"Now? Is he open?" 

"It's only 1735. He should be open until at least 2000 for the 
Gratitude Festival." Ben grabbed his credit chip and they left their 
quarters for the Promenade. "I never had to buy much for Jake. Our 
parents gave us so much that we had enough for three kids." They turned 
a corner and entered a waiting turbolift. 

As the lift took them to the second level, Julian frowned again. 
"Gratitude Festival?" He gave Ben a puzzled look. "Computer, what's the 
stardate?" 

"The stardate is 51125.73." 

They stared at each other, then both burst out laughing. 

"I can't believe we both forgot," Julian said with a chuckle. "No 
wonder Jabara asked me why I didn't take the day off." 

Ben shook his head. "Couple of hopeless romantics we are, forgetting 
our own anniversary. Why don't we stop somewhere for dinner?" he asked 
as they left the turbolift for the Promenade. 

"During the Gratitude Festival? How are we going to get a table?" 

He grinned as they entered Greskrendtregk's Kidsworld. "You know, I do 
have some pull around here." 

Julian smiled back at him. "I've heard that." 

****** 

"Now that's a new one," Kira Nerys murmured. "What's a Miranda class 
starship?" 

He crossed to the docking console and looked over her shoulder. "It's a 
small cruiser, small enough for the docking ring. The Saratoga was 
Miranda class." He took a closer look at the ship's specifics displayed 
on Kira's monitor. "The Brattain-B. I didn't realize they'd 
commissioned a new one." 

"What's it doing out here, though? We don't have a war going on." 

"The old Brattain was a science vessel," Dax said from the pit. "I'm 
assuming this one is too. Ah, damn the Joint Gods," she growled as 
sparks flew from the terminal she was working on; she sucked on a burnt 
finger and gave the wiring a filthy look. "Tell me Chief O'Brien's 
returning soon?" 

"I'd like to, but I don't know," he replied. "He hasn't checked back 
since he left." He climbed the stairs to his office. 

It was a good question, he thought, as he tossed his baseball a few 
times absentmindedly. It wasn't as if the station was falling apart 
without O'Brien; his temporary replacement was competent enough. Still, 
he was missed. Sisko hoped the Chief and his wife would be able to 
patch things up, but - 

He switched on his terminal and opened a message box. It couldn't hurt 
to ask. 

****** 

He stood in front of the holding cell. "Name and rank," he said. 

She glared at him. 

"Why did you sabotage the life support module?" 

She turned her gaze to the wall in front of her. 

"Did you think you wouldn't get caught?" 

She sneered. 

They had been at it for twenty minutes; she had yet to say a word. 

"Suit yourself," he said as he nodded to the guard and left Security 
for Ops. Why would they bother sabotaging this station, he asked 
himself. Deep Space Nine was over a hundred light-years away from the 
Andorian front, and even if there had been instability in the sector - 
it didn't make much sense to waste an operative, especially on such a 
futile task. 

He stepped into Ops and almost tripped over a pair of legs sticking out 
from under the life support console. "Any success, Chief?" he asked as 
he squatted down beside him. 

"Yes, sir." O'Brien pushed himself out from under the console and 
handed Sisko a small metal cube covered in blinking green and yellow 
lights. "Here's your problem. Whatever it is, it took out both CO2 
filtration systems and the air quality sensors. If Harven hadn't been 
suspicious of T'Var..." 

"She's not even on the maintenance crew, is she?" 

"No, sir; that's why he called me. Good thing he did too. He probably 
saved us an emergency evacuation at best." 

Sisko stood and handed the cube to Dax. "Run a diagnostic on it. I'm 
guessing it's Romulan." 

"What makes you think that?" she asked as she placed it on the science 
console and began a scan. 

"According to medical and security scans, our so-called Ensign T'Var is 
actually Romulan." He frowned at his office door, then turned to 
Colonel Kira as he headed up the stairs. "Open a subspace channel to 
Admiral Barron on Starbase 375." 

On his way to his desk, he wondered if the Romulans had actually 
infiltrated the Academy or whether the real T'Var had been replaced on 
her way to her first posting. He supposed it didn't matter in the long 
run, except to T'Var's family on Vulcan. If she had one. 

****** 

"Why didn't they update the dress uniform when they changed the regular 
one?" Jadzia groused as they waited for the ceremony to begin. 

He gave her a look. "They're supposed to make the change next year." 

"It won't be a day too soon." 

A woman sitting behind them shushed them; Ben looked back, but he 
didn't recognize her. He didn't recognize anybody except for the odd 
admiral. 

He lowered his voice, whispering into her ear. "I can't believe she 
agreed to a civil ceremony. She's so traditional." 

"I remember her lecturing Jake and Ziyal at your wedding reception. Too 
bad they didn't listen." 

He chuckled. "Oh, they listened. They were perfectly proper - in 
public." 

She smiled as she looked back. "Here they come." 

They and the rest of the audience stood as Julian led his Aunt Ruksha 
down the aisle. Ben hadn't realized how tall Ruksha actually was; she 
was a good 10 centimetres taller than Julian (who was tall enough 
himself) and towered over Admiral Hassan by at least 40 centimetres. He 
didn't look like her fiancé; he looked like her lunch. 

Jadzia was apparently thinking along the same lines. "I hope Admiral 
Hassan knows what he's getting into," she whispered as Julian handed 
his aunt over to the admiral. 

He couldn't have agreed more. 

****** 

They sat together on their sofa, bags packed, staring at the monitor. 

"I've got all incoming comms from JAG routed to my terminal," Ben said. 
"If they try to contact anyone..." 

"It'll probably be Eddington," Julian said, resting his head on Ben's 
shoulder. "I always knew this day would come. You don't have to go with 
me, Ben. Nobody knows I told you. You could lose Jake and Ziyal, Miali, 
your father, your sister, your career, your citizenship, everything. 
Let me go alone." 

"We've been through this, baby," he replied, pulling Julian into a bear 
hug, "and I'm not changing my mind. Wherever you go, I go. Even if 
Bajor does join the Federation some day-" He sighed. "We'll figure 
something out. But I am not leaving you." 

He thought back to the FNN bulletin they had seen last night. A Deltan 
member of the Federation Council was charged three weeks ago with 
crimes against humanity after it was alleged that his daughter had been 
genetically enhanced. Last week, the Federation Bureau of Investigation 
and the Adigeon State Police raided the Kadwarti Institute for Genetic 
Research and Evaluation. They had names, records, procedure details 
going back God knew how long. Did they go back 26 years? 

"It's a nice little house. Three bedrooms, patio, garden in the 
back...I'm glad we bought it." Julian was preparing himself for the 
inevitable. "Do you think they'd let me practice medicine on Bajor 
without a Federation license?" 

"I'm certain they'd take the extenuating circumstances into 
consideration." He kissed the top of Julian's head. "It'll be all 
right, baby. We'll have a good life down there. We could even have that 
child you've always wanted." 

"No, we couldn't." Julian suddenly pulled away from him. "Don't you 
see? That's the worst part of this. My germ cells weren't enhanced. If 
we used my haploid cells the child would inherit my natural genes and 
he'd be borderline disabled like I was." His face grew hard with rage. 
"But if we used one of my diploid cells - did you see those people they 
showed on FNN last night? Personality disorders, affective disorders, 
untreatable schizophrenia - it was like watching a living catalogue of 
the DSM-81! I am not bringing a child into this world just to have to 
put him in an Institute!" 

He had never seen Julian so angry before. 

"And you know, when I was watching that all I kept thinking was that in 
a lot of ways I had problems too. You know, when I came on the station 
I was so arrogant and brash and I was a pest to everyone..." 

He smirked. "I hadn't noticed." 

"Now is not the time for humour, Ben, all right?" He fell back against 
the sofa. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be taking this out on you, but - I 
can't help but wonder if I have a personality disorder myself and I 
just don't see it." 

"I don't think so. Maybe you really are two years younger than you 
think." He took Julian's hand again. "Maybe we should go now. Nobody 
will think it odd if we take a runabout and go visit the house to check 
on something or other. Let's-" 

The door chimed. 

They both jumped up. Ben picked up his phaser and hid it behind his 
back while Julian called out, "Enter." 

Dax walked in. "You guys interested in -- where are you going with all 
those bags?" 

"To Bajor," Julian said smoothly. "Just stuff we want to move down to 
the house for the summer. You know, light clothes, an extra crib we 
bought for Miali, things like that." 

Ben slowly tucked the phaser into the back waistband of his trousers 
and tried to think of something to say. Julian was a much better liar 
than he was - well, he should be; he had almost twenty years' 
experience. "What's up?" 

She gave him a suspicious look. "It's the first night of the Karidian 
Players' run. I was wondering if the two of you were planning to 
attend." She sat down on the sofa. "Okay, what's going on?" 

They gave each other panicked looks. "What do you mean?" Sisko said. 

"One," she said, ticking off her points on her fingers, "when I 
entered, the two of you jumped like a pair of kittens. Two, half the 
pictures on the side table are missing. Three, there is no way any of 
those bags contains a crib, even knocked down. Four, what did you just 
stick in the back of your waistband, Ben? Five, it's the middle of the 
work week and you, Julian, are on call, and you're both dressed in 
casual clothes and neither of you is wearing a comm badge. Six, one of 
the runabouts is parked-" 

"We get it, old man," Ben finally interjected. "We just - can't tell 
you." 

She glared at him. 

"It's nothing against you, Jadzia," Julian added. "In fact, we're 
protecting you by not telling you." 

She turned her gaze onto him. 

"Dax-" Ben thought for a moment. "There are things that just can't be 
discussed. It wouldn't be safe for you-" 

She looked back at him, then went absolutely ghostly pale. 

"Dax? Jadzia, are you all-" 

"It's that genetic enhancement thing, isn't it? Every time I tried to 
talk about it at lunch you'd change the subject." She stood and looked 
both of them in the eye. "Which one of you is it?" 

They looked at each other, then back at her. "It's me," they both said 
in unison. 

"Both of you?" she gaped. 

"No," Julian said. "I'm the-" 

"Julian's covering for me. Baby, you don't have to-" 

"Ben, stop it! That's not-" 

"I'm old enough to look after myself." 

"Ben!" Julian was vibrating with rage. 

"Honey, just tell Jadzia the truth." 

"But I'm the one-" 

"STOP!" Dax held her hands up. "This is all very funny, but -- you're 
serious, aren't you?" 

They stared at her. 

"You said I don't want to know this. Do I?" 

"You can't be held responsible for a guess," Ben said. "On the other 
hand, if you have evidence, you must contact the Judge Advocate 
General's Office within a reasonable period of time or risk 
prosecution. The minimum penalty for not contacting JAG is demotion to 
ensign, dishonourable discharge, and two years' incarceration in a 
Federation prison. I hear New Zealand is very nice this time of year." 

Dax looked as if she had been hit in the face. "Then I don't want to 
know." She strode towards the door. "I just don't want to know. I-" She 
turned back. "They said Ambassador Meliosa could go to prison for life. 
His daughter could lose her citizenship and go to prison, and she's 
only seven years old." 

"She could and will if the charges are upheld," Julian said. "She 
didn't commit a crime but she's the one who will receive the most 
serious punishment." 

She looked at the far wall for a moment, then spoke. "I'll give you ten 
minutes' warning. Keep your comm badges close. Can you transport right 
to the runabout?" 

"We've got it set up." 

"Good luck. I hope you don't need it." She looked at the door, walked 
up to Julian and gave him a hug, then left. 

Ben watched the door close. "We sure fooled her." 

"You're a terrible liar," Julian said with a wan smile. "That's one of 
the things I love about you." 

He gathered the younger man in his arms again. "It will be all right. 
No matter what happens, it will be all right." 

******
******
******

Julian had been wrong about one thing; he really wasn't that terrible a 
liar. 

He had spent most of the afternoon meditating on the fact that in order 
to keep this timeline the way it was, he had been forced to lie 
constantly over the past eleven days. It didn't much bother him if he 
had to lie to Starfleet Command, Opaka, or even his colleagues, but 
Julian? It bothered the hell out of him. 

Q had warned him against telling anybody about what had happened, but 
she hadn't made it sound as serious a 'crime' as making a change to his 
personal life would be. But still...perhaps from a temporal mechanics 
point of view keeping his journey to himself was the right thing to do, 
but it made him feel as if he were taking advantage of Julian, using 
him in some way. 

Damn you, Julian, he thought: eleven days in this timeline and I've 
fallen in love with you. 

He sighed, stood and looked out the window. Night fell very early at 
the latitude of the monastery; the sun rose around 0800 but was well 
below the horizon by 1530 every day. In the twilight he could barely 
see the prylars and acolytes scurrying to make it to evening meal. 
Someone suddenly knocked on the cabin door; he opened it to find a 
young acolyte struggling with a heavy tray of food. 

"Let me take that," he said quickly, taking the tray from the young 
woman and carrying it to the small dining table in the main room. 
"Thank you for bringing our dinner, but you shouldn't carry more than 
you can handle. We'd be happy to pick up our own meals, you know." 

"It's an honour to serve the Emissary. It wouldn't be right for you to 
perform such menial tasks." She looked at her feet. 

He knew she would say something to that effect; every acolyte who had 
delivered something to them had said more or less the same thing. 
"Well, next time take two trips. You could have hurt yourself if you 
had slipped and fallen." 

"Yes, Emissary," she stammered. "Have a pleasant meal." 

Sisko shook his head and chuckled under his breath at her speedy exit. 
The encounter reminded him of the first time he met Ziyal - and the 
first time he met Julian too, for that matter. The door suddenly swung 
open again: speak of the devil. 

"Sorry I'm late; some of the older children came down with a virus 
today and they had me helping." He kissed Ben, then looked behind him 
to the table. "I'm famished. What did they bring today?" 

"I have no idea; the acolyte just delivered it a few minutes ago. Was 
it serious?" 

He shook his head as he took off his muddy boots. "Just Sahving Valley 
Fever. Remember when it tore through the station?" He saved Ben from 
having to reply when he crossed to the table and opened the insulated 
container. "Looks like harba root stew again. How do they stand eating 
the same thing every other night?" 

"I don't know. Presumably they have their minds on higher things." 

"I suppose." He lifted the tureen, a covered bowl full of salad, and a 
small loaf of bread out of the container. "I'm still not used to living 
without a replicator." 

Ben shrugged as he went into the galley to get plates and cutlery. "I'm 
not used to living without a full kitchen. Or a sonic shower. Or a 
proper bed." 

"You didn't have a problem last night." 

"Not until I tried to sleep." He set the table, deliberately ignoring 
the twinkle in Julian's eyes. Hell, he couldn't even look at the man 
right now. The guilt that had been eating at him all day long suddenly 
flared up. How dare he trick Julian like this, he thought to himself. 
The man deserved better. 

******

Chapter 13

******

The day broke bright and cold. As Ben walked to the storeroom, he 
noticed that the ponds had partially frozen over. He felt almost as 
cold as the kranta probably did. 

Except his coldness was in his heart. 

He had spoken to Eddington that morning from the runabout. The Bajoran 
State Police had identified two suspects in the death of Toreth Adain 
and had cornered them near the fire caves. The police followed them 
into the formation, but they fell into a chasm and burned to death 
before they could be apprehended. The chief of police in Hathon said in 
her report that they had also been suspects in a series of crimes 
against sex workers on Bajor. Apparently the pair blamed a sex worker 
for disfigurements they had both received in a fire three years ago. 
Fitting that they should die in fire, he supposed, but truth be told he 
didn't much care. 

The key fit into the storeroom door like it always did; the lights in 
the room switched on automatically like they always had; he sat in 
front of the Orb and readied himself to open the cabinet like he always 
had. 

Yet something within himself wasn't there; the wonder, the surprise 
that he had felt entering into a new life. Right now he didn't care 
what the Orb showed him - good, bad, or indifferent, it just didn't 
matter to him any more. He was a fraud. 

He opened the cabinet anyway. 

******
******
******

The idiot, he thought with a scowl. 

"He says he brought them in to sell to a leader of the Andorian 
resistance movement named Taris," Eddington said. "Only problem is, 
Intelligence is pretty certain that Taris was killed three months ago 
by the Romulans." 

He glared at the stacks of cartons containing phaser rifles, energy 
packs, disruptors and sensor arrays. "Then who was Quark really dealing 
with?" 

"I'm betting that if we catch up to this 'Taris' we'll find another 
surgically modified Romulan." 

He glared at the commander. "What would the Romulans want with 
contraband weaponry? They produce enough of their own to arm themselves 
and every dissident and crackpot in the Federation." 

"They're not interested in the arms as is," he replied. "They're only 
interested in keeping them out of Andorian hands. Captain Martinez on 
Starbase 43 reported a similar incident to Command last month. The 
supposed Andorian in that case killed the Lurian trader he was dealing 
with before he could brag about his sale to anybody else. He went by 
the name Taris as well." He ran a hand over one of the crates. "I don't 
think Quark realizes the danger he's in." 

"If I had been stricter with him when he brought those weapons in for 
the Maquis," he said, shaking his head. "Or after his trip to ancient 
Earth." 

"Sir, you can only deke him for so long. Once you're past the red line, 
you can't put it in the net no matter how good your stickhandling is." 

He hadn't a clue what Eddington had just said, but it sounded good. 
"You're right. Have Mr. Quark put under house arrest. Let his wife and 
brother earn some profit for a change." 

****** 

"Bishokh. Bishokh Behn." 

Ziyal smiled. "Minari bishokh na Standard, Miali. Mana 'Grandpa Ben'." 

The little girl clambered off her mother's lap and toddled over to Ben, 
clutching at the coffee table for support. "Grapa Behn," she said, and 
then pointed at Julian. "Ul Caza Zuli." 

"Caza Julian," she corrected the child, her words slow and deliberate. 
"Mana 'Uncle Julian' na Standard." 

"She's such an-" and Julian reached down to switch on his universal 
translator. "Sorry, Ziyal, I forgot. She's such an active little thing. 
Aren't you?" he said as she made her way over to him. 

"Unca Zuli." 

"I'm Uncle Julian, that's right." He hauled her up and wrinkled his 
nose. "And it looks like Uncle Julian is on diaper patrol right now. 
Let's go!" He swung the happy squealing girl into the air as he stood 
and carried her into the spare room. 

Ben and Ziyal switched on their translators as well. "She's growing so 
fast. The last time the two of you was here she wasn't even talking." 

"Father's started her on the first level of mental training. He thought 
that being only one-quarter Cardassian she wouldn't be able to complete 
the exercises, but she seems to be doing well." 

He looked up. "What kind of mental exercises?" he asked, worried. 

"Memory training, mainly," she said. "At this age her attention span is 
too short to handle any of the more complex lessons, but her medium-
term memory recollection is coming along well." 

"I asked because Humans don't really teach their children memory 
exercises until they're much older. More tea?" he asked, holding the 
pot above her cup. 

She nodded. "Thank you." 

He continued to speak as he poured. "We don't generally put our 
children into structured lessons at all until they're about five years 
old. Before then it's all very casual." 

"But humans learn by patterning, don't they?" She took a sip of her red 
leaf tea. "If you place a human in a group of Bajorans, soon he'll be 
acting like a Bajoran. Cardassians and Bajorans don't do that. And 
memory is an important part of pattern recognition." 

"That's true. We evolved from pack animals; mimicking the leader was 
probably a survival strategy." He smiled. "I see you haven't completely 
given up your interest in early childhood education. Have you been able 
to fit any more classes in?" 

She shook her head. "Since the Dakor was reclassified as an expedition 
ship, Father hasn't been around very much. For the past few weeks we've 
been living at the Imperial Palace in Dakura City. Father thinks it's 
for the best." 

"How do you like living there?" And why are you there, he wanted to 
ask. 

"The Empress Mila has been very kind to Miali and me. The duties aren't 
onerous - I spend most of my day with Mia - and at least we're safe 
from prying eyes." 

"I didn't know that was a problem. You could live on the station, you 
know, if it's too difficult..." If it was just Mila he wouldn't mind, 
but if Garak was using her to get to Julian... 

She shook her head emphatically. "I couldn't turn my back on the 
Empress. She really loves children and she took quite a risk having me 
at the Palace. Although I'd probably see Father more if I moved here, 
from what I understand." Her eyes twinkled. 

Ben chuckled. "He and Jadzia seem to be seeing a lot of each other." 

The spare room door opened. "Mia and I have just had the best 
conversation about hygiene," Julian said. "Haven't we, little zoozoo?" 

She agreed enthusiastically. "Don eat poop," she giggled. 

Ziyal dropped her head into her hand while Ben tried his best not to 
laugh too hard. 

****** 

"Eight letters, 'fancy accessory'. The first letter's an F and the 
sixth letter's an R." 

He glared out the viewport at a star they were about to pass. His 
father would bring one of those damn crossword padds along. 

"Folderol?" Dax suggested. 

"Unless you can think of a word with a 'ql' combination, that can't be 
it," Joseph replied gently. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Julian looking over his shoulder 
from his place at the navigation console. "Try froufrou," he said. 

"Now that works. Hm. Seven letters meaning slanted. Fifth and sixth 
letters are 'qu'. Oblique, of course." 

Ben thought of the Orb they had just found on Tyree as his father 
worked in silence. He'd taken his desert training on the planet; well, 
almost every Starfleet cadet did. It was bizarre to find an orb so far 
from Bajor, though. 

Of course, it was even more bizarre that his father had covered up the 
story of his real mother for so long. Sometimes he thought his family 
had more secrets than the Tal Shiar. 

"Seven letters. First two are 'ro'. Actor's nickname." 

"Rogrock," Jadzia said immediately. "He's a very popular trivid actor 
on Trill." 

He shook his head. "This is an ancient Earth crossword from the 20th 
century. Humans back then didn't even know Trills existed." 

"Good point." She thought for a moment. "How about Rowline? Roblare? 
Rogrind?" 

Julian sighed. "Roscius. R-o-s-c-i-u-s." 

Joseph snickered. "You're good at these, Julian. I should send you some 
of the ones I can't figure out." 

"Who the hell is Roscius?" Ben asked. 

"An actor from ancient Earth," Julian replied. "Remember that holovid 
we saw last week with Ramesh Patel? His nickname is 'The Mumbai 
Roscius'." 

Ben looked over his father's shoulder. "How do they get the words to 
fit together like that?" 

"It's not easy." He filled in another answer. "These days most puzzles 
are computer generated, but there are still people who create them by 
hand. The handcrafted ones are more devious and usually more difficult. 
Maybe the creator of this crossword - Wolfe, it says here - knew 
Roscius." 

"Roscius lived almost 2,500 years ago," Julian said. "I don't think 
they even had crosswords back then." 

Ben was still looking at the padd. "The words mesh together, then." 

His father gave him an appraising stare as he handed him the padd. 
"Here, take it." 

****** 

2259. He glared at the chrono, then at the door. Where was he? 

It wasn't as if he wasn't used to spending the odd evening alone; being 
married to a doctor meant getting used to odd schedules and late-night 
calls. This was ridiculous, though. 

Chief O'Brien had become something of a pest. He had dragged Julian out 
to Quark's to play darts or to fight the Battle of Britain or just to 
talk over a drink virtually every evening since they had returned from 
Tyree. Granted the chief was going through a difficult divorce but Ben 
wanted his own husband back, at least for one night. 

He let out a sigh of frustration and returned to the letter he was 
writing to Jake. 

Ten minutes later the door whooshed open. "I'm sorry I'm late," Julian 
said, as he threw himself into a chair. "I just-" He scowled at his 
boots, then toed them off. 

"What happened?" 

"He's pissing me off, that's what's happened. Miles is my friend, I can 
understand that he's angry and upset, but he doesn't want to actually 
do anything about the problem. He just wants to sit there and feel 
sorry for himself. And drink." 

Ben went to the replicator and ordered a cup of Tarkelean tea, extra 
sweet. "Is he drinking real alcohol?" he asked. 

"Sometimes. Tonight he was. He has tomorrow off." Julian accepted the 
cup of tea with a kiss. "Thank you. He isn't showing signs of 
dependence yet, but he is showing signs of severe clinical depression. 
Tonight he almost hit me." 

"What?!?" Ben said as he returned to the sofa. "Why did he-" 

"That's how depression sometimes presents in men; as anger and 
irritation. He asked me when Jake was arriving. I mentioned that he was 
visiting Cardassia instead of the station this summer so he could spend 
some time with Ziyal and Miali, and he just blew up." 

Ben thought for a minute. "'Miali' and 'Molly' sound a lot alike. And 
he might resent the fact that they have a child and he and Keiko lost 
theirs." 

"So that's what it was. Did he expect them to pick a name based on what 
he'd be comfortable with?" 

"I don't know," Ben said. "Is he going to fight for custody?" 

"One day he says yes, the next no." He sipped at his tea. "I have to 
send him to Telnorri; he'll hate me for it, but he needs help. He still 
keeps talking about getting back together with Keiko, which is 
impossible given that she's seeing somebody else now. It's been almost 
two years, for God's sake." 

He snorted. Normally he didn't care much about his officers' private 
lives, but this could affect O'Brien's work. "Make sure he sees 
Telnorri as soon as possible." 

****** 

The first thing he noticed as the door opened was the stench. 

"Chief, repo-" and then he saw it. 

All that remained was a skeleton, picked almost clean, the abdomen and 
chest stuffed with all kinds of batting, lint, hair, and whatever else 
the voles had found to make a soft nest. A litter of at least ten vole 
pups scurried around in the nesting, squeaking as they sniffed the air. 

O'Brien stood on the far side of the room, staring uncomfortably at the 
bathroom door; Sisko joined him there as Eddington and Julian entered 
behind him. "What happened, chief?" he asked, keeping an eye on the 
body. 

"About half an hour ago our sensors picked up an EPS short circuit 
warning from the conduits running under the floor here." He swallowed 
and covered his mouth with a fist. "The room was supposed to be 
unoccupied, but the lock was jammed. I reset the lock and entered, and 
- well, you can see what I found." 

Eddington and Julian suddenly jumped back as the vole pups scrambled 
out of the remains and skittered over the floor. A loud squeak came 
from behind the bed; they followed the noise and soon disappeared. 
Eddington gave the body a sour frown, then returned to his scans; 
Julian shuddered. 

Sisko nodded at O'Brien. "Thank you, Chief. Can you complete the 
repairs from the cabin below?" 

"I'll have to. I only chose to go in from above because this one's not 
occupied." He gave a sidelong look at the body. "My bloody luck." 

"Dismissed then." 

"Aye, sir." O'Brien picked up his tool box and left with alacrity. 

"She's been dead at least a week," Julian murmured as he ran his 
tricorder over the remains. "Probably longer." 

"You're sure she was female?" 

He gave Ben a grim nod. "Bajoran, female, likely between 16 and 25 
given the state of the dentition. Probably performed manual labour in 
the past. She has numerous gummae in her long bones as well - likely 
from Verran venereal necrotic osteochondritis." He knelt beside the 
body. "No obvious signs of foul play, but the vole damage may have 
obscured them if they existed. I'm not picking up any DNA that would 
belong to an attacker." 

Verran venereal necrotic..."Was she a sex worker?" 

"She's not one of our regular ones; if she was she wouldn't have VVNO. 
The station sex workers are pretty good at protecting themselves and 
getting treated quickly. She was likely infected three to six weeks 
before her death." He frowned again. "Although I wouldn't recognize her 
even if she were one of ours. I suppose we could perform a 
reconstruction if DNA doesn't identify her?" he asked Eddington, who 
nodded. 

"Commander," Sisko asked as his eyes began to water, "any objection to 
increasing the ventilation?" 

"Actually, yes, Captain. I'll vent out the gasses once my DNA sweep is 
complete. It shouldn't be more than twenty minutes or so." He looked 
up. "Sorry." 

"Don't be. Do whatever you need to process the scene." He stepped aside 
as two of Eddington's scene of crime officers entered the room. "I'll 
get out of your way." 

He nodded. "I'll have a preliminary report ready within 48 hours." 

As he walked towards his quarters to change, Sisko wondered if it would 
be worth putting his uniform in the recycler. He might as well just 
discard the thing. 

The poor girl, he thought. He hoped she had been dead by the time the 
voles showed up. 

******
******
******

And that was it. 

On his way back to their cabin he mused on whether he should tell 
Julian what had happened. The problem was that he simply couldn't live 
with himself the way things were; he was a liar, a fake. The Orb 
experiences hadn't given him anything near what he needed to make a 
smooth transition to this timeline. He would screw up eventually, and 
when that happened... 

Q had warned him against telling anybody what had happened, but she had 
also warned him not to make any changes in his personal life. But what 
if holding the truth back from Julian pushed him away? Wasn't it better 
to be from another universe than to be a liar? 

His walk took him past the bower where the Orb of Prophecy and Change 
was kept. The flowers that had previously ringed the niche had wilted 
in the snow, their red blooms drooping under a covering of ice. Sudden 
footsteps made him step out of the way; his foot hit a slick patch of 
ice, toppling him into the bower. He landed face-down in front of the 
Orb. 

From behind him he heard Julian's voice. "Ben, are you all right? I was 
just running to catch up with you-" 

"I'm fine," he said, pushing himself up from the ground. "I just 
slipped." 

Julian gave his forehead a clinical look. "You've got a bad abrasion. 
I've just finished packing; let's go back to the station. I'll regen it 
there." 

He looked up into Julian's trusting, caring, concerned eyes. "We have 
to talk first. Let's go back to the cabin for a few minutes." 

****** 

"WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?!?" 

"Baby," he cried out, "I'm still the same person-" 

Julian's gaze was as hard as duranium. "Like HELL you are! Where is he? 
What did you do with him?" 

"I didn't do anything with him. I'm just here-" 

"But you're not him, are you?" he spit out. "Where are you from? When 
did you get here?" 

"There was a change in the timeline - we had to change the past in 
order to save Earth and Bajor." 

"We? Who is this we, Ben - if that's really your name?" He started to 
pace. "I should've known. It was when we were in the wormhole, wasn't 
it? Are you a Prophet? Are you one of them? God dammit, I fucked you! I 
cheated on my husband with an alien!" 

He held his hands up. "Will you just listen to me? I'm the same person 
I was. I'm just from another timeline." 

"Another timeline?" he said. "Fine. Are you married to your Julian 
Bashir in that timeline?" 

"I - I died in that timeline. There was a war. The Federation was 
destroyed. We - the Prophets and the Q made changes to the past, and I 
woke up next to you the night before we entered the Temple." 

He glared at him. "What do you mean 'made changes'? And would you 
answer my goddamn question? Were you at least married to me before you 
died?" 

Ben looked down. 

"Oh. I see. So you went ahead and made changes willy-nilly to the 
timeline, woke up next to me, and decided that you'd go along with it. 
Tell me this: WHERE THE FUCK IS MY HUSBAND?" 

"Julian, honey..." 

"Don't you goddamn 'honey' me, you BASTARD! You goddamn FRAUD!" 

He hadn't been expecting the punch; he toppled backwards into the 
coffee table. Julian ran out the door before he could even regain his 
feet. 

Oh God, he thought: what had he done? 

****** 

"Thanks for picking me up." 

Jadzia gave him an odd look from the navigation console. "You still 
haven't told me what happened to Julian." 

How could he tell her? "We had a fight," he eventually said. "He got 
angry and took off without me about an hour ago." 

"Strange; he hasn't come back to the station." She glided the runabout 
towards the inner ring and onto a landing pad. "Are you sure he was 
okay?" 

"He's okay, but-" He shook his head as he rose to leave the runabout. 
"I think I did something wrong." 

"How bad could it be? Dax asked. "He loves you. You're his life." 

He said nothing. 

"Ops to Captain Sisko." 

"Yes, Colonel." 

"Sir, Emperor Garak has opened a subspace channel. He wants to speak to 
you immediately." 

"Has he - put him through to my office once I get there." 

He ran to Ops, climbed the stairs to his office, and switched on his 
terminal as he sat down. "Your Majesty, what-" 

"Don't play stupid with me, Captain Sisko," Garak sneered. 

He glared at the monitor. "Emperor, I don't understand-" 

"I told him you didn't love him as much as I did. I told him his duty 
was here by my side. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he 
saw that as clearly as I did on that day. I don't know how you hurt 
him, but understand this: I will never give him up. Never." 

"What? You-" 

Garak's sneer turned into a smirk. "He's on his way to Cardassia as we 
speak. I'm in the process of drafting a law proclaiming your so-called 
marriage null and void. He will be mine and mine alone from this day 
forward." He leaned forward in his seat. "And as the Great Gul is my 
witness I vow to you that neither he nor I will ever come within a 
light-year of you again. Good day, Captain." The screen went dark. 

No. Gods Mother Mary Prophets Saint-Expedite no. 

Why didn't he listen to the Q? He closed his eyes, willing himself not 
to cry. He was a man; he didn't cry. 

He didn't listen to himself. 

****** 

It had been a long 48 hours. Nobody spoke to him of what had happened 
(although Dax tried to once, unsuccessfully), but he could feel their 
eyes on him, could sense their shock, disapproval, even disgust. He 
couldn't agree with them more. 

He hadn't gone near Quark's during the broadcast of the "wedding 
ceremony". To the Ferengi's credit he hadn't broadcast the event on the 
huge ultra-wide vidscreen with its eight enormous speakers, but knowing 
that it was playing was bad enough. He didn't appreciate having his 
shame vidcasted to the entire station. 

Messages had come in from Jake, Ziyal, his father, and even from Dukat. 
He laughed bitterly; what a crazy, messed-up timeline it was when Dukat 
was a close enough relative to send him sincere condolences. And yet he 
felt as if he didn't deserve them. It was his fault; he had made the 
wrong choice. 

Horran's prophecy suddenly came back to him. "If the Emissary chooses 
wrongly, Bajor will be dark for a thousand years. He must seek his 
pagh." But he hadn't sought his pagh; he had sought his own comfort. He 
could have lived with being in a new timeline. He could have forgotten 
everything he knew from the old timeline. There were- 

Was that the lesson the Prophets had meant for him? To forget? To let 
go of the old timeline and forget it ever existed? 

He looked down at the padds on his desk - energy consumption reports, 
damage reports, trade reports...with a huge swing of his arm he shoved 
them all to the floor. What did any of it matter? 

"Dax to Sisko." 

They don't even say 'Captain Sisko' any more, he thought. There's no 
reason to differentiate. He's now Julian Garak Tain. In the wink of an 
eye, one horrible decision- 

"Dax to Sisko. Ben, are you there?" 

He sighed and pressed his comm badge. "Sisko here." 

"You'd better come out here." 

He sprung up from his seat and dashed out the door to Ops. The sight on 
the viewscreen made him catch his breath: twenty or more Cardassian 
Galor-class warships were circling the station while others surrounded 
the planet. 

Dax's face was troubled. "There are more on their way," she said. "I 
count 75 within one light-year of Bajor." 

"How could - why would Garak-" he got out before Thras ran into Ops, 
her face as pale as he had ever seen it. 

"Captain, there's been a coup on Cardassia," she shouted out. 

"A coup?" he repeated. How could- 

"About eight hours ago," she said, her antenna drooping, her eyes 
fierce. "There was rioting in Cardassia City, Dakura City - the army's 
taken over." 

"But - why?" 

She frowned at him. "Garak may have seen his proclamation as a divorce 
and remarriage, but apparently some Cardassians didn't. They saw it as 
adultery. Rioting started, then the palace was stormed." Her eyes 
widened as she took in the images on the viewscreen. "Captain, we have 
to evacuate-" 

Adultery? A cold lump of terror dropped into his stomach; adultery was 
still a capital offence on Cardassia. He turned and ran up the stairs 
to his office. He and everyone else on the station was as good as dead, 
he knew. There was no way the Defiant or any other ship could take on 
that many Cardassian warships. Nothing mattered but- 

Thras was right behind him. "Sir, don't." 

"I have to-" he said as he sat down and reached for the switch that 
would power up his monitor. 

She lunged over his desk and grabbed both his hands, swinging him 
around to face her again. "Captain, no! You don't want to see." 

He stared into her eyes, seeing reproach, anger, grief. And it suddenly 
hit him. What had they done to - why would they - no! He tore his hands 
away from hers. "Tell me - oh God in heaven-" 

She grabbed his shoulders. "You don't want to look, sir. Remember him 
the way he was-" 

He flung her away, swiveled back and switched on his terminal. Ten 
seconds later he found the image Thras must have been referring to. 

There they were, Julian and Garak, together at last: side by side, 
hanging from a gibbet in the centre of Dakura City, their bodies 
twisting in the wind. 

He slid off the chair and dropped to the floor, his head in his hands, 
a crushing pain exploding in his chest. "No, no, I didn't mean to - 
NO!" he screamed before the blackness took him - 

- and he woke up sprawled face-down on the floor in front of the Orb of 
Prophecy and Change. Footsteps rang out behind him. 

"Ben! Are you all right? I saw you trip and-" 

He spun around and grabbed Julian - his beloved, beloved Julian - as he 
knelt beside him. "Honey, oh God baby," he babbled as he pulled the man 
to him. "Never leave me. Promise you'll never leave me." 

Julian tried to disengage himself. "Ben, you're injured, you're 
bleeding. You need-" Whatever he was going to say was lost as Ben 
pulled his head down again and kissed him passionately. 

He didn't care what Julian was saying, what had happened. He was alive! 
He wrapped his arms around the struggling man - why was he fighting 
this? Julian was alive, he was- 

"GOOD MORNING, EMISSARY." 

They looked up at a smirking Vedek Harash. 

"He's fallen and hit his head; he's incoherent," Julian cried out as he 
pulled free. "We need to get him to the orphanage hospital." 

"But-" Ben tried to tell him that he wasn't incoherent, he was- 

Harash's smile disappeared. "Ravin, Papetek," he shouted to two prylars 
behind him, "run to the hospital and get a stretcher. The Emissary's 
been injured!" 

Only then did Ben notice that the doors to the Orb's case were wide 
open. 

****** 

"Just a minor concussion, from what I can tell. I've regenerated the 
cut on your forehead, but I'd feel better if you took the rest of the 
day off." 

He pushed himself up on the Infirmary biobed to look Julian in the eye. 
"You know, I did mean it. Don't leave me." 

Julian wrinkled his brow. "Why would I ever leave you? Ben, what's 
going on?" 

"It's just-" He shook his head. "I think the Orb of Prophecy and Change 
gave me a vision of the future. It was, um...just don't leave me, all 
right?" 

He smiled. "Well, I'm not planning to, so you can stop worrying. Just 
try to get rid of me." 

"I'd never do that, baby." He sat up and took Julian's hand. "In fact, 
I'd like to talk to you about something." 

****** 

He could hear Julian from the main room. 

"The posterior tibial artery lies successively upon the tibialis 
posterior, the flexor digitorum longus, the tibia, and the back of the 
ankle-joint. It is covered by the deep transverse fascia of the leg, 
which separates it above from the gastrocnemius and soleus; at its 
termination it is covered by the abductor hallucis. In the lower third 
of the leg..." 

Ben leant against the doorjamb of Sima's room, listening to Julian's 
soft voice as he cradled the infant in his arms, wondering why the man 
thought a chapter of Gray's Anatomy would interest her. Then again, she 
had liked his comparative anatomy lecture. 

It hadn't been as difficult to get rid of Thras as he had anticipated. 
A few well-placed words by Ziyal about Julian's 'infertility', a few 
hints from Dukat about how badly Cardassia needed an imperial heir 'for 
the good of the state', and a little prompting on Ben's side and Garak 
had finally seen the truth about the Andorian's feelings for him - and 
perhaps his feelings for her. The wedding was in two months. All three 
of them were invited. 

"Do you think she's getting anything out of it?" he asked as he knelt 
down beside the old bentwood chair. 

"I'll have her in med school by the time she's 16, just you watch." 

The little green-eyed girl grinned up at Ben through her bottle. 

"She does have my smile, doesn't she?" 

Julian beamed at her. "Nobody would even guess she was adopted." 

He looked up at his husband. "Very funny, baby." 

****** 

fin