TITLE: Converse Symmetry AUTHOR: Terrie H. Drummonds (TDrummonds@aol.com) SERIES/CODES: DS9; O'B, Du, G/B RATING: NC-17 for language, graphic violence and consensual sex between two men. There's only one sex scene, but if I tell you where it is... well... it would ruin the fun. ARCHIVING: ASC/ASCEM archives only; Everyone else, please ask. SUMMARY: A subspace anomaly causes the crew of the USS Defiant from an alternate universe to cross over into DS9's universe. Led by Captain O'Brien, Ambassador Bashir, and Dukat, these alternates possess technology which could give Ben Sisko's Federation the edge in the fight against the Dominion. However, there are the small matters of the Prime Directive, lost lovers, treason and collaborators. TIMELINE: This story takes place in the latter part of the fourth season, specifically after "For the Cause" where Eddington was revealed as a traitor and Garak and Ziyal first began associating with one another. It occurs before "To the Death" where the DS9 crew embarks on a joint mission with the Jem'Hadar to destroy the Iconian time gateway in the Gamma Quadrant. Other events to note: Odo still has his ability to shapeshift and Dukat is still hunting down Klingons. COMPLETED: August 19, 1997 Copyright 1997 by Terrie H. Drummonds (tdrummonds@aol.com). Feedback is always welcomed. STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE is the property of Paramount Pictures, Inc. Salute! But this story is mine since TPTB would never allow such events to take place (well... maybe some of it... but definitely not all of it). It does not intend to infringe on Paramount's copyright in any way. Do not change or alter in any way. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: There's a huge list this time... but then again, this is a huge story. Special thanks to... ...Mary Knasinski who has been there from the early stages of this epic, cheering me on while pointing out mistakes; "Distant Deeps" was the first G/B story I had ever read (and provides the basis for Cardassian sexuality portrayed in this story). I've been hooked on G/B ever since. ...Kit Ramage for suffering through the drafts, providing excellent commentary, inspiring delicious plot twists, and keeping me on track for the second half of this monster by challenging my logic; "For You" and "An Emotional State" are truly inspirational. I've borrowed the Kardasi endearment "TeHua" (which means "beloved") and bits and pieces about Cardassian courtships from her stories "The Claiming" and "An Emotional State." ...Andrea Evans, for a delicious rendering of Dukat which makes visualization so much easier! She has been kind enough to provide all Kardasi used in this story (with the exception of "TeHua") as well as helping me to properly integrate the language into the story and reading the drafts. ...Sophie Masse, the one and only BGM :> ...Joanne Francis and Karen Colohan; "House Call" and "Set Me Free" have helped immensely in giving Julian his edge and G/B discussions have been simply wonderful. ...Ariana, for providing great feedback and encouragement, again especially in the second half. Her brilliant portrayal of Dukat and discussions of linguistics in "Halfway" helped me focus on that devious gul; details regarding Tora Naprem are based on that story. And to all those who have given me feedback on "Blasphemer" and "Hypothesis;" I think I've learned from my earlier mistakes:> RESOURCE MATERIALS: "The Star Trek Encyclopedia" by Michael Okuda, Denise Okuda, and Debbie Mirek; Tracy L. Hemenover's DS9 Encyclopedia & Lexicon website (http://members.aol.com/DS9fanfic/DS9EncLexicon.html); and The Bajoran Central Archives website (http://www.shakaar.demon.co.uk/archive/index.html). If the names of the alternate crew members sound familiar... there's a reason. Look them up in the "official" encyclopedia and on Tracy's webpage . ***(End Part 0)*** He had an excellent crew. Period. It didn't matter they were one of thirteen remaining First Federation Starfleet battle ships and over 52.3 billion had lost their lives during this conflict with the Dominion. Starfleet forces had been decimated, Federation planets overrun or completely destroyed, and Captain Miles Edward O'Brien commanded the finest forty people from that severely limited pool. When the first wave of Jem'Hadar ships had blown through the wormhole twelve years ago, Kai Opaka journeyed to the Celestial Temple and requested the gates be closed indefinitely. That sacrifice enabled Starfleet to rally forces and planetary defenses, but the Dominion created another stable wormhole five months later. No matter how many times Starfleet destroyed the wormholes, the Dominion created new ones and mounted lethal attacks. The Defiant shook again. Dukat called out the damage reports with the unnerving calmness he brought to all battle situations. The Cardassian didn't panic easily, never once broke in his role as the stalwart tactical officer, and conveyed the strength which, combined with O'Brien's bridge presence, somehow managed to assuage the crew's instinctive fear and have them operate at peak efficiency. O'Brien barked out the necessary orders, Paris responding with a newly devised attack pattern and the chief engineer calling up system failures. It didn't matter most of O'Brien's crew were half his age; they acted like veterans. If this ever came to an end, his crew wouldn't be able to move from the awards Miles would pile upon them. "Type four Jem'Hadar warship decloaking!" Dukat called out. "One eight seven mark two three zero." "Evasive pattern Delta eight seven!" O'Brien ordered and kept his eyes focused on the tactical screen, his mind churning out possibilities of surviving this attack. The Defiant was woefully in need of repairs although the ingenuity of O'Brien and his very talented chief engineer had managed to keep it running. The tactical display outlined their situation: they faced two Type I Jem'Hadar ships, easily defeated with quantum torpedoes. But the Type III and Type IV ships were able to deflect the force of the blasts and consequently inflicted several more shots on the Defiant. Those blows quickly ate away at what was left of the shields. An explosion from the helm sent Paris reeling backwards, blood pouring from the gaping hole in his temple. If he had had time to curse and mourn the loss of his best pilot, O'Brien would have. Yet before the captain could move to take the fallen lieutenant commander's place, another man stepped in and began tapping in commands. "Bringing her about to one seven six mark one five two," Julian Bashir reported. Bashir was a Federation ambassador, on this ship in hopes of cajoling non-aligned forces to unite with the Federation against the Dominion. The ambassador was almost as good as Paris when it came to piloting and, best of all, always made himself useful without being told what to do. But no matter how others pitched in effortlessly, O'Brien still faced the same situation. Out-gunned and out-manned, fancy maneuvering would only delay their impending defeat. He had only one alternative and he prayed his ship could withstand the tactic. "Initiate phase sequence," the captain ordered. "Acknowledged, sir," chorused Bashir, Dukat, and chief science officer Leah Brahms. "Phase drive initiated," Dukat informed him. "Entering initial transpor. . .." The Cardassian's words were cut off as another ship magically appeared before them. "A second Type IV warship decloaking with all weapons firing!" The Defiant rocked from the impact of the disruptors and torpedoes. Phases always took at least 30 seconds. The subspace field had to be distorted to the point where the ship could pass through it. At the same time, the ship itself would fire her weapons to keep her attackers from following. The procedure required a separate engineering system from the warp and impulse drives because of all the specifications needed; the ship needed to maintain the warp static bubble for protection as she entered that field distortion. It was one of the few weapons the Federation still had left against the Jem'Hadar; intelligence reports indicated the enemy ship's engine configuration couldn't handle the enormous stress this type of space travel required. The phase drive had been a gift from the Cytherians and thanks to Reg Barclay, O'Brien had a way to save his crew time and time again. "We're already in the phase!" Bashir shouted over the scream of the engines. The Defiant jolted from left to right repeatedly, the electrical systems sparking and squealing in protest to the new onslaught. Some of the crew were thrown from their positions as the ship continued to rattle, the Defiant becoming a die in the palm of some ancient god who was shaking the cube and ready to roll it in hopes of winning the odd game of craps. Miles held onto the console the best he could, keeping an eye on the tactical viewscreen which was intermittent with static. Bashir tenaciously gripped the conn, determined to stay at his new post. An intense flash of white temporarily blinded O'Brien, as if lightning had struck too close and the burst enveloped them. For a brief moment, Miles couldn't hear a damned thing, and for a captain used to the cacophony of klaxons, shouts and equipment sputters, it was the worst sound of all. Suddenly Miles heard the howl of the red alert siren. Smoke poured through the bridge, the tactical screen fuzzed furiously, and the computer's strangulated voice ticked off the status reports of all stations. O'Brien hoped to whatever deity who could hear him that his ship and crew were out of danger. "Find out where we are!" the captain coughed, surprised his throat was raw and his eyes profusely watering. He struggled to stand, trying to figure out why his body ached as badly as it did, and made his way over to the compartment near his captain's chair. He grabbed a fire extinguisher and began putting out the electrical fires. his mind reeled, "All weapons, off line. Primary shields, three percent. Secondary shields, twenty-five percent. Long range sensors, off-line. Transporters one, three and four, off line. Transporter 2 at fifty percent. Main computer, off line. Secondary computer core operating on emergency power only. Life support systems, emergency reserves only. Short range sensors operating on emergency power only. Warp drive, off line. Phase drive, off line. Impulse engines capable of one-quarter impulse. All shuttle craft, off line. 85% possibility of warp core breach. Anti-matter containment field compromised. Hull breaches on Decks 3, 6, 7, 8, and 13," Dukat called out. Miles thought angrily. *** Crew scheduling. It was a bane of command. And when every Bajoran officer had requested the same day off for a religious festival, one which just happened to coincide with one of the few holidays the Federation celebrated, it became nightmarish. It was precisely the reason he'd passed this "choice" assignment to Major Kira. She loved challenges. Of course, she didn't mind telling him exactly what she thought of his tactic either, especially when he had innocently added that the task would be no more difficult than arranging docking schedules. The only reason Kira had not delivered a blistering speech and verbally castrated him was Captain Benjamin Sisko was the Emissary of the Prophets. Now, she stood in front of his desk, refusing to sit although he offered her the chair twice. Ben inspected the list and then handed the duty roster back to Kira as he nodded. "I'm impressed." "It meets with your approval?" The Bajoran major gave him a dubious look as she snatched the padd back, quickly checking the listing to see if he made any changes. "Of course, major." He paused and then gave her a sly smile, "*I* have the easy part." She was about to reply when the klaxon suddenly blared. They both bolted out of his office, down the stairs to the center of Ops, and looked expectantly at Jadzia Dax. The Trill switched the main viewer to the disturbance. "A subspace field distortion, captain," Dax reported, barely looking up at the burgundy colored anomaly wavering on the screen. "A bias in the subspace continuum." "Source?" "Unknown, but something's coming through." Ops fell silent as the group gazed upon the magnified view. Battered and heavily damaged, the anomaly spat out a ship which spun like a top for a few moments before it righted itself and came to a standstill. Fires clearly blazed from the warp nacelles and several decks. Ben's stomach turned. There were a few structural modifications, but he'd recognize that ship anywhere. "USS Defiant, NCC-87825." Dax dutifully read the registry and then looked at Sisko directly as she tacked on the needless, "That's the wrong number." Two explanations popped in Sisko's mind: either it was from the alternate dimension he'd been dragged to on more than one occasion or the ship was from the future. He didn't know which was worse. Yet the alternate dimension which seemed to have a penchant for kidnaping him didn't use registry numbers, at least the last time he was there. "Dax, scan for a quantum-level flux." "Yes, sir." She mercilessly tapped at the controls, knowing exactly what he was searching for. After cajoling the sensors a bit, she finally announced, "Quantum-level flux is out of synch with ours and doesn't match the one from the other reality we've encountered. There are no indications this ship is out of time either. They're simply from another reality." Ben groaned and rubbed his head. "Get the Defiant ready for launch. Sisko to Bashir. Assemble an emergency medical team and transport to the Defiant." "Acknowledged, captain." "Captain," Kira called out, "we're having a difficult time scanning their ship. It seems they're running dual multi-phasic shields. Readings are all over the place." Whoever they were, they needed help. There were hundreds of rules regarding alternate reality interactions, and dozens more added after his crew's escapades in the past three years. "Benjamin, their comm systems may be off line. They may not be able to send a distress signal. The burns on the hull are similar to those by Jem'Hadar warships," Jadzia added. "Open a channel, all frequencies." *** Dukat continued with his litany. "Communications: external, low-band audio only and internal, hard comm lines only. Turbolifts, 85% off line. Fire suppression systems operating on all decks. Internal sensors off-line on Decks 3 through 8. Environmental controls, off line. Inertial dampeners, off line. . ." "What the hell *do* we have?" demanded the captain, sweat pouring off his face. "An incoming message," replied Bashir, voice calm and collected as if he piloted Dante's Inferno through space every day. "Broadcasted on all frequencies. Putting it through, audio only." ". . .Captain. . . .United. . . Federation. . .station. . . space. . . require assistance?" "Can you clean it up?" "Working on it," the ambassador answered. "I've set up an algorithm to record and extrapolate...." "Don't explain," O'Brien barked. "Just do it. Dukat! Get me a hard line comm to engineering." The Cardassian nodded curtly and then signaled the connection complete. "O'Brien to Sisko!" "Sisko here, captain. It's bad, sir," the engineering chief said, his voice hoarse. "If we don't shut systems down completely within 30 minutes, we'll lose the ship." Miles closed his eyes, smoke obscuring his features from the rest of the crew. Bashir's hail broke his train of dismal thought. "Captain, I believe the entire message is 'This is Captain Sisko of the United Federation of Planets-Bajoran space station Deep Space Nine. Do you require assistance?' Sensors confirm a space station of possible Cardassian design positioned near the Denorios Belt, and the Bajoran defensive net is. . . nonexistent." "Mister Sisko," Miles stated, "initiate systems shut down. Brahms, find out where our CMO is and the status of the crew. Bashir, open a channel and pray the Prophets sent us to a nice alternate reality." *** A distinctly accented voice filled Ops. Static or no static, there was no mistaking that Irish lilt, "This is Captain O'Brien of the USS Defiant. We have several crew who need medical attention but our engines are severely damaged." The link hissed and snapped a few seconds before the final, "unable. . . distance. . . current. . .." The line went dead. Everyone now stared at the chief of operations whose face clearly registered the surprise of hearing his own voice. Sisko's mind whirled again. What if Dax was wrong? Just how many realties had O'Brien commanding the Defiant? "Commander Worf, you have Ops. Kira, Dax, O'Brien with me," Sisko ordered and the four clambered onto the transporter pad. "Energize!" *** Miles thought. Much better than "Empire" or "Alliance" or "Conglomerate," although the names really didn't mean anything. What one Federation was in one reality could be the complete opposite in another. "Tactical scan?" the captain called out. He'd been to three realities where their "benefactors" had tried to dismantle their ship before helping the crew. The Cardassian drily replied, "The station appears to be a converted mineral processing station, armed with Class A photon torpedoes and phaser banks and turrets, as well as additional armored shielding. " Miles cheered inwardly as the tactician in him immediately calculated the odds of them withstanding an attack from the station. He damned himself for thinking in these terms but it was out of necessity. Even in its current state, the Defiant could probably endure a short volley, but without engines, it would be a moot point. They would be space debris after two and half minutes of fire. Optimistically, these people could be helpful. Using the First Federation's technology as collateral, the captain could barter for parts. The turbolift doors groaned open and vomited his chief medical officer. Hair usually neatly swept off her face and neck now tumbled down in ragged, sweat soaked tendrils, clinging to her dirt smudged face. Medical kit firmly in hand, Doctor Kestra Troi immediately approached him and began spitting out her report without preamble and without a respectful "captain" as a prelude. "A plethora of injuries in engineering, but no casualties," she announced, pulling out her tricorder and scanning the area. She probably already knew Paris was dead. "Radiation sickness will affect most of them, but they will recover in a few days." She paused dramatically, her features clearly saying, Troi brushed past the captain to attend to Paris' corpse. Bashir had already shed his ambassador's jacket to respectfully cover the dead man's face. Miles let out a breath. "How close are we to that station?" "With a short burst of impulse power, we could use the momentum and maneuvering thrusters to arrive there in. . . two days," responded Bashir. "Brahms, take over for the ambassador at the helm," the captain ordered. Immediately, the science officer extracted herself from her console and slid into Bashir's vacated seat. The fire suppression systems had kicked in, thanks to a little coaxing from Dukat, and the smoke had dissipated. Paris' body had already been cleared away and Troi continued her rounds on the bridge. She pressed the hypo into Miles' upper arm and curtly said, "For the radiation. It's high all over the ship." Ever the vigilant security officer who preferred not having his atoms spread across some unknown universe, Dukat had also managed to get the sensors somewhat back on line. The high pitched wail alerted them again. Looking up at the screen, O'Brien watched as a ship launched from the station and headed towards them. "Turn that blasted siren off!" the captain demanded. Dukat wordlessly complied and the bridge fell silent for a few seconds before the sensors could lock on. "Gadare class ship. It seems the Benjamin Sisko here prefers to command the ships he designs. The ship bears the name USS Defiant. Incoming message." *** The new Defiant was only two minutes away at warp 5. Fingers steepled in concentration, Sisko debated his next steps. Dax reported the ship had vented high levels of radiation twice since their arrival. She and O'Brien had been impressed, mentioning something about their counterparts probably used to making repairs without the benefit of a space station, planetside help or a neighboring ship. As they approached, the magnified view of the other Defiant clearly showed the level of damage she had taken. A low whistle came from Kira, "Looks like they've been at it a long time." There was a slight pause before Ben responded, "You said they were venting radiation." "Extremely high levels, probably generated from warp engine failure and cascade reactions," the chief answered. "They have to get off that ship," Kira said flatly. "And we have to convince them our intentions are peaceful," Sisko sighed. "Open a channel." *** Ben Sisko's voice sounded as fresh as ever. "On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, we bring a message of peace and our assistance." O'Brien glanced over at Bashir who mulled the words over carefully. "Sounds like your department to me, ambassador." Bashir shook his head. "With due respect, Sisko is expecting you to respond. The standard first contact greeting should be sufficient. They want to make sure we're friendly and, well, civilized." Miles inwardly grumbled before he motioned for the link to be opened. "As representatives of the First Federation, we accept your offer and assure you our intentions are simply to tend to our crew and repair our ship." "We are ready to tractor your ship back to the station. In the meantime, medical and engineering teams are standing by to beam on board with your permission." O'Brien motioned for the comm link to be muted. "Impressions?" he asked and focused his attention completely on Troi. Aside from Betazoids, Troi's empathic ability was strongest with humans, the talent verging on pure telepathy in some cases, and a product of her half Betazoid bloodline. Her appearance was the most deceiving since she lacked the intense black eyes of Betazoids. During the decade O'Brien had served with her, he'd seen her full range of emotions and watched as Troi honed her talents to being able to detect changelings on board the ship. There were species which were immune to Betazoid mental powers, but Troi was able to sense a presence, something she had dubbed dramatically as an "aura." Changelings didn't possess auras at all. Troi's intense emerald eyes met his. "Sisko's cautious, unsure of the situation, and surprised at the sound of your voice. He recognizes the ship design and is sincere in his offer to help. I detect no malice or ill-will towards us, only blatant curiosity and a desire to exchange information." "Any changeling auras?" Dukat queried. Her eyes flicked towards the Cardassian, "I'm not *that* good." Miles turned to the ambassador and noted how Bashir's features were now set in thoughtful determination. Technically, the ambassador could pull rank and take over since this was, in a sense, a first contact situation. However, Bashir knew he would have his turn at negotiations once they were docked; O'Brien was needed far more in engineering than in the diplomacy department, so the ambassador deferred for the time being. "I suggest allowing only a medical team to come on board," Bashir recommended quietly. "That is our first priority." "Secondary shields will have to be lowered," Dukat commented. "I seriously doubt their transporters can get through them." "Allow them to keep a transporter lock on whoever they send over. I don't want Sisko thinking we've cut off his crew, but I don't want them nosing around in places they shouldn't," O'Brien stated and then turned to Bashir. "Feel like a little negotiating?" "So Sisko will have a hostage, too?" remarked the ambassador wryly. Dukat informed him, "Maintaining a transporter lock will not be a problem, even if they raise shields." O'Brien signaled for the comm line to be opened. "A medical team would be welcome relief to my CMO and we would appreciate the tow. Unfortunately, more than five people will put a strain on our environmentals. Our ambassador would like to beam over, meet with you to discuss the current circumstances and come to a mutual agreement." "Agreed. We'll exchange coordinates. Sisko out." As he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, Bashir admitted, "Personally, I would love to have a shower and make myself a bit more presentable to these people. I hardly look the picture of a delegate." "If Ben Sisko is anything like the one I knew, your appearance will only help our case." *** End Part 1 *** A super-heated, smoky blast bathed Julian the moment he materialized on board this version of the Defiant and he instantly broke out in a sweat. Three people rushed around the six biobeds crammed in the dimly lit room and Bashir found himself confused. This crew was completely clad in black without any insignia, color-coded uniforms, or anything to designate rank or occupation. Julian turned to a Bajoran female in her early twenties standing a meter to his left. "Your chief medical officer, please?" he asked and offered a friendly smile. The woman looked at him confused and then pointed to the petite woman scurrying between patients. Julian nodded, "Thank you." As Bashir approached, the woman stopped, made an attempt to brush away the hairs plastered to her face, and then turned to face him. Broome and Jabara hadn't moved from their beam in positions, clearly waiting for Julian's signal. The chief medical officer glanced over at him and her green eyes widened in surprise causing Julian to wonder just what his counterpart did in their universe. "Doctor Julian Bashir," he introduced and then gestured to his two officers. "This is Chief Broome and Nurse Jabara." "Doctor Kestra Troi," she greeted them with a single nod. "Most of our people are suffering from plasma and radiation burns but there are a few broken bones and internal injuries. Please, if you would chose a place to start. I appreciate your help." A blast echoed somewhere in the ship and Troi momentarily looked around but said nothing. "Glad to offer it," Bashir responded and then signaled Jabara and Broome to start. he thought to himself. He began his work, focusing on the human female on the biobed to his right. Julian's patient didn't even bother to turn as Bashir began the rudimentary scans. She was too busy craning her neck to find out who the latest victim was. "Please," he told her, "try to stay still." Jumping at the sound of Julian's voice, the woman managed to stutter out, "Am. . .Ambassador Bashir? You. . . you have medical training too?" Julian flashed a quick, tight smile and chuckled darkly, "Jack of all trades." his mind then processed. He selected a hypo from his medkit and injected its contents into her blood stream. "There. That should ward off any infection and also side-effects from the radiation." The doctor automatically searched for rank pips for a clue of this woman's identity, but her solid black uniform was devoid of any insignia, not even a commbadge. He continued his examination, quickly scanning the woman's cranium for any sign of concussion. He stopped the scanner over her left ear. *Subdermal Transponder Implant functioning within normal parameters,* flashed on the screen. There was no time to question the device more thoroughly; patients were waiting. With an inward sigh, Julian motioned the human off the biobed. The woman was still staring at Julian, no doubt because the doctor's attire stood out among the ocean of black. "He was trying to reroute the ancillary conduits when we hit phase, to get more power," a man was explaining as the sea of patients parted and Troi dashed in. Out of the corner of his eye, Julian caught sight of the wounded crewman on the anti-grav cart and his heart tightened slightly: Nog. The young Ferengi's uniform was torn in several places and his right lobe almost mutilated. Bashir winced in sympathetic pain. He watched as Troi dispatched a few orders and then motioned Julian over. Embarrassed at his gawking, Bashir fought the flush creeping along his neck. The doctor followed as they placed the Ferengi on a freshly vacated biobed. Bashir's tricorder nearly screamed from the radiation levels and the heat pouring out from Nog's body. Troi ordered the containment fields and then turned to Bashir. She didn't have to say anything, the exhaustion so clear in her features it was remarkable. Already Bashir knew these people were operating almost on pure adrenaline and it surprised him she would trust him and his team so implicitly with treating the wounded. Someone here *had* to be empathic. It was the only logical explanation. A half smile tugged at her lips and she finally said, "Will you tend to him?" "Certainly, doctor," replied Bashir. *** The first thing Ambassador Julian Bashir noted when he materialized on board the other ship was the lighting. His Defiant had been in so many battles and the situation so uneasy in his universe, the ship operated under an almost constant yellow alert which dimmed the lights. The air was considerably cooler, so much so it chilled him slightly as he stepped down off the transporter and faced an alternate reality. Ben Sisko and Kira Nerys were standing and the differences between Bashir's world and theirs blatant. Both recognized him from the slight, pleased smiles and the momentary widening of the eyes. "Captain Benjamin Sisko," introduced the tall, goateed human and as he held out his hand. "Welcome to the Defiant." "Ambassador Julian Bashir," he responded and shook the captain's hand. "As the diplomatic envoy of the First Federation, I extend our sincerest appreciation for your hospitality." The words threw the captain a bit, obviously used to the other Bashir functioning in a different capacity, but the man recovered with ease. "My first officer and liaison to Bajor, Major Kira Nerys." "A pleasure, major," Julian smiled and nodded once. The woman returned his nod but remained silent. "I thought we should talk in the Defiant's mess hall," Sisko said and waited for Bashir to accept the plan. Once the ambassador did, they began walking out of the transporter room and toward the turbolift. "I was surprised your ship didn't transmit a distress signal given the level of damage." "Unfortunately, it has been our experience such general distress calls pique the interest of less than benevolent parties," Bashir answered. "When we first learned we had crossed over, Captain O'Brien was understandably more concerned with repairing our defense systems in case someone decided gaining our technology was more important than opening a dialogue." He deliberately shot a look at Sisko who met his gaze. "Your captain is an admirably cautious man. The Federation believes in a mutual exchange of friendship," the captain coolly responded as they entered the turbolift. "Neither side would benefit from hostile actions." "It's refreshing to meet with people who have such an enlightened outlook," Julian complimented again. "It seems our respective governments share similar philosophies. Captain Sisko, I am curious about the relationship between Bajor and your Federation. Are they two separate governing parties?" Ben Sisko internally winced, surprised at the question and dreading the answer. Despite Ambassador Bashir's haggard, war weary appearance, the man's eased eloquence lulled Sisko into relief before scoring with a touchy issue. Bashir had looked at Kira much in the manner they had stared at him, slightly surprised and then he seemed to adjust to the role she played here. Dressed in solid black, Bashir's uniform lacked any adornment whatsoever, not even a wrist communicator or commbadge. Perhaps it was worn on the inside of his tunic or cleverly hidden with the belt, but it bothered Sisko. He knew the ambassador was sent as a token reassurance of the safety of Sisko's away team, but to transport a single man over to potential enemy territory? It seemed absurd. The lack of rank insignia made Sisko take the man's declaration of his title at face value as well. Bashir could be a weapons officer or a peon sent over as a sacrifice, yet the man carried himself with the calm demeanor of one used to diplomatic situations. "The Bajoran Provisional government and the Federation are allies," Kira jumped in before Sisko had a chance to formulate an answer. It was a defensive remark, almost challenging the ambassador to make a negative comment or apologetically explain his question. Yet instead of a flustered response Sisko's Bashir might have given, this one capitalized on the opportunity to strengthen his negotiating platform. "Bajor is one of four founding members of the First Federation," he stated, the tone of voice indicating he was used to giving this particular speech and almost confirming his role as ambassador. Yet his voice lacked smug superiority or condescension Sisko had come to expect from diplomats. "Earth, Vulcan, and Cardassia are the other three. Our Federation is based on the Denorios Concordance, a peace agreement between Bajor and Cardassia over a thousand years old." "Bajor and Cardassia at peace? For a thousand years?" echoed the major. Bashir didn't look surprised at Kira's statements and continued, "When Terrans developed space flight in the 1930s, we began exploring our solar system and eventually made first contact with a Vulcan scout ship. A Vulcan delegation helped Earth settle their international disputes and bring about worldwide peace." It was then Sisko realized the ambassador wasn't speaking to him, rather to Kira, and his tone had taken on a distinct respectfulness. Whatever role Kira Nerys played in Ambassador Bashir's reality, it was one of authority. "This relationship blossomed into the Saturn Treatise of 1975 which sealed a non-aggression agreement and joint exploration by Vulcan and Earth. What it boils down to is the Terran-Vulcan delegation met with the Bajoran-Cardassian representatives, discovered they shared similar philosophies and together they forged the First Federation in 2161." "The same date as ours, but with different players," Sisko commented. The turbolift doors whooshed opened and they walked into the deserted mess hall. Bashir accepted the proffered chair and requested water when offered a drink, and settled in for what looked like a rather lengthy discussion. Sisko quickly skimmed over the history of his United Federation of Planets, citing the Prime Directive and the explorative aspects. The concepts were the same, but like so many things here, the game pieces were flip-flopped and backwards. "We have a peace treaty with the Cardassian Empire but they are not part of the Federation." <*That* is going to be a problem. Definitely a problem. Definitely a *big* problem,> Julian thought with disappointment. He then allowed himself to relax, noting how when he dropped his air of formality so did Sisko. "You refer to the Cardassians as an Empire." "Our Cardassians are not as tolerant as yours," Kira tossed in. It didn't take a warp drive specialist to figure out what was going on. The space station, Cardassian in design converted from a mining operation to this semi-military post, orbited in the vicinity of Bajor and the Denorios Belt. There was no mention of the wormhole, the Prophets, or the Dominion. First Federation policy, although free in its desire to protect all realities from the Dominion threat, was achingly restrictive when it came to how information was to be exchanged. Kira continued her explanation, "They occupied Bajor for 60 years and stripped our planet of its natural resources." Bashir caught the warning glance Sisko shot at the major, but she didn't seem to care. Just like his Kira, this woman could be diplomatic when she wanted to be. If Bajor were only allied to Sisko's Federation, Kira wouldn't be fighting for Bajor's sole rights in this mess. Yet the major wasn't pressing issue as much as she could if she didn't respect Sisko or was fully aware of the implications. Julian tested a theory, "And when they were finished and tired of fighting against Bajoran resistance forces they finally withdrew." Sisko and Kira stared at him and Bashir knew he had guessed correctly. It was Kira who added, "The Federation offered an alliance and we accepted." "Hence the joint operation of Deep Space Nine," Julian concluded and then was aware Sisko was becoming less friendly. For the second time, Julian cursed himself for forgetting Kira was Sisko's first officer and Julian should be addressing the captain. He took a swallow of water. "But if the station is a holdover from that occupation, why is it located near the Denorios Belt? Strategically, the station would be better located orbiting Bajor." Sisko idly wondered how much of the ambassador's conclusions were from pure intuition and then admonished himself slightly. His Bashir was arguably one of the most brilliant, young physicians in the Federation, there was no reason *this* Bashir could not possess that same cognitive ability in a different field. Each of the ambassador's statements and questions were cautious and it was obvious he was used to addressing Kira in an official capacity. But it was the last question paired with a look from the ambassador which clearly stated, Bashir was counting on Sisko and Sisko's crew recognizing the hull damage of the ambassador's Defiant was the result of Dominion/Jem'Hadar attacks. The ball was thrown in Sisko's court for the answer. If this other Federation was bound by similar laws as Sisko was, the Prime Directive was a major factor. Just how much Bashir could disclose depended solely on what Sisko's UFP had already discovered. It stunned Ben how much information the ambassador had gathered and put together in such a short time. The history lesson on the First Federation had come after Kira's clarification on where Bajor stood with the United Federation of Planets. Bashir had also known DS9 was of Cardassian origin and had explained the close relationship the two cultures had. Impressed, Sisko understood what Bashir was getting at: Did *this* Federation know about the wormhole, the Dominion, and the Founders? Clearly, Bashir's side did. "The station originally orbited Bajor, but with the discovery of the stable wormhole five years ago, it was moved to establish sovereignty," Sisko explained. "Your ship obviously encountered the Jem'Hadar, our sensors picked up weapon energy signatures on the hull. Are you at war with them?" "A war requires a formal declaration from both sides, captain," Julian retorted smoothly. "You've implied you have had contact with the Dominion. In our universe, they aren't too interested in talking. Officially, the First Federation is at war with no one but we are fending off attacks upon our peoples. I believe the term 'conflict' has been assigned to this issue. Then again, its all a matter of semantics." It was a candid answer. Sisko probed again, "How long have you been warding off these assaults?" "Twelve years." The succinctly reply nearly stopped Sisko's heart and he saw Kira's eyes widen. Was this a foreshadowing of events to come? Was it because of his training Bashir didn't reveal the desperateness of his reality? The words hung in the air for a few moments, Sisko unable to decide if the ambassador was going for the dramatic effect or plotting his next move. "To be frank, Captain Sisko, the radiation levels are dangerously high on our ship. The safety of our crew is of utmost importance," Bashir jumped subjects, tossing away the shadow boxing. Apparently he felt Sisko had given him enough information. "We can arrange quarters on DS9 for your use," Sisko offered. "But as you mentioned before, there will be people interested in your technology." "While the First Federation is dedicated to assisting worlds to defend against Dominion attacks, I am concerned about the balance of power. We do not want to be the match which starts the fire of war here nor do we wish to be the water which extinguishes alliances. This thin line between the two is easily crossed and will be blurred. It is clear technological advances will be different since our respective cultures have access to different resources," Bashir outlined and then paused. "Some of our officers are Cardassian and Carjoran. . .." "Carjoran?" asked Sisko. Blinking a few times, surprised anyone would question the term, Bashir defined, "A person of Cardassian-Bajoran heritage. We have several in rather high ranking positions." Sisko knew what the ambassador was implying. "There may be some uneasiness, but it should not be a problem." "Ambassador, if the Dominion have been attacking for twelve years," Kira began, then paused momentarily as if appalled to finish the sentence, "why didn't you destroy the wormhole?" "Two hours after the first wave of Jem'Hadar warships, the stable wormhole closed," Bashir said darkly. "The Dominion simply found other ways around it." "We didn't discover the wormhole until after the Cardassian occupation ended," Kira pursued. "You must have known about it for much longer. You said it 'closed,' not that it had been destroyed. What happened?" "For two hundred fifty seven years, the 'wormhole' was referred to as the Celestial Temple," he clarified, sounding much more relaxed with the Bajoran religious designation than the scientific reference. There was a bit of reverence in his voice, the influence of a strong Bajor no doubt. "Up until sixty-three years ago, entering the Gates in anything other than a Bajoran light ship was considered sacrilegious." "What about scientific exploration?" Sisko injected. Bashir's eyes met his and the captain was surprised at the passion, "Sixty-three years ago, the First Minister of Bajor allowed a Starfleet vessel to enter the Temple. The decision went against the Vedek Assembly and caused a great stir on Bajor and to those throughout the Federation whose faith was in the Prophets. The First Minister claimed the Prophets beckoned the understanding of their temple and so the Federation began sending ships through. At first, there was no indication of hostile forces and in fact, it remained relatively quiet for about twenty-five years. During the next fifteen, reports of the Dominion starting coming through at an increasing rate but the Federation faced another threat and turned our attention elsewhere." "That other threat?" "A highly evolved race whose purpose was to assimilate sentient beings." Again, the ambassador shied away from naming them, mindful probably of his own rules. Sisko filled in the name, "The Borg." Bashir closed his eyes briefly and his features started to show more exhaustion than ever. "We fought the Borg for five years and then the Dominion followed shortly thereafter. The Federation has been fighting for its existence for the past seventeen years." "We stopped the Borg before they assimilated Earth," Sisko replied. "Those events occurred over seven years ago. Subsequent events have lead to their disbandment." "Each of our worlds is fortunate in their own ways," Julian stated sagely. Kira again popped in with a query, "What about the Klingons or the Romulans?" "Klingons?" The ambassador paused for a thoughtful moment as if thinking of the best way to explain it. "There was an experimental weapons test accident on one of the Klingon home world's moons, Praxis. The Federation offered assistance but was refused. The Klingon culture was one of the first assimilated by the Borg. As for the Romulans, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with them." Bashir's gaze then encompassed both of them, "I would like to request the quarters be somewhat distanced from others, if that is possible. As I stated when we first met, we have had experience with crossovers and are fully aware of the situations which can arise. I would like your opinion on just who may be visiting us. According to Captain O'Brien, repairs may take an entire week, long enough for messages to be sent out to other governments." The ambassador had been so forthcoming with his information, although it was mostly background, Sisko had been prepared for the assault of questions. Bashir gave him an expectant look, desiring the candidness he had displayed, and Sisko relented. "As I said, Bajor, Cardassia and the Federation have peace treaties. The Klingon Empire, however, has invaded the Cardassian Empire and is currently occupying strategic points along the Federation-Cardassian border. Our alliance with them is unfortunately broken although no formal declarations have been made. We also have treaties with the Romulan Star Empire and Ferengi Alliance. Those are the delegations whom I expect will be showing up in the near future. Background information on all these governments will be made available to you." For the first time during their entire meeting, Ambassador Julian Bashir flashed a genuine, Doctor Julian Bashir smile. *** End Part 2 *** "You're more comfortable with your own instruments," a female voice commented as Doctor Bashir reached to refill the hypospray. He glanced up and stared at the young Cardassian-Bajoran woman for a few nanoseconds. "Ziyal?" A shy smile broke across her dirty features. "You know my name?" "Um. . . yes," he stated uneasily, wondering how much information he should reveal and then realizing he didn't know how to address her. "Do you have a title here? Doctor? Nurse?" "Some people are more formal than others. I prefer 'Ziyal,' since it's less confusing," she told him earnestly as she handed him the instrument. "Then Ziyal it shall be. "Julian accepted the hypo and checked the contents to make sure it was the correct one. Although her tone wasn't defensive, she told him, "I have Level Three medical training. I have been part of Doctor Troi's staff for almost two years. I would like to assist you." "I would be honored," Bashir cordially said while injecting Nog with a second dose of hyronolin. As if to prove her abilities, Ziyal plucked the dermal regenerator from his medkit and gave it to him. Somehow, the Ferengi was still conscious despite the concussion, broken clavicle and various other internal injuries."Well, Nog, they certainly did a number on you." The Ferengi fought to focus on Julian before asking with disbelief, "You're a medic too?" The doctor chuckled good-naturedly, "Actually, I *am* a doctor." "The other ship," murmured the Ferengi, more to himself than anyone else. "The captain mentioned the other ship. The other universe." "No matter which universe you happen to be in," Julian told him gently yet sternly, "you're not going back on duty for a while." Nog instantly straightened and challenged, "I have to get back to engineering." "If you go down there in your condition, you will most certainly return dead," the doctor shot back. "I will not allow that to happen." "He's right, Nog," offered Ziyal. "You have enough radiation in your body to illuminate Sickbay." A loud ker-chuck echoed through the bay and the entire room tensed out of reflex. "They've probably docked on the station," Bashir assured both Nog and Ziyal. "Hopefully we'll be able to move everyone to the Infirmary." A few seconds later, Troi was at his elbow and again attempted to push back the hair sticking to her sweat-soaked skin. "Most of the crew have routine injuries that don't require a formal trip to your station's sickbay. But Nog, Ari, and Sito... I'd like to get them to... what is it called on your station?" "The Infirmary." "Yes, get them there to finish up. I have a feeling the captain wants to keep all of us together to minimize the security risks." "We'd better contact our respective captains," he responded and continued his work. "Already done," was the answer, except Troi hadn't spoken it. Julian looked over Troi's shoulder to find *their* version of Miles Edward O'Brien. The captain was much trimmer, and from the little he'd seen of the ship and the condition of the crew Julian knew why: they had to be in peak condition to fight off whoever decided to attack. The smiling eyes were still there and the good-natured attitude evident although the man, like the rest of his crew, desperately needed a shower. "I'm Captain O'Brien. I doubt Troi gave you the official 'Welcome aboard,' Doctor Bashir." There was a slight pause as the captain's eyes flicked down towards Julian's patient. "How is he?" "He'll live, as long as he doesn't try to resume his post within the next few hours," replied Julian, finding himself immediately at ease with the Irish captain. Was it because he was Miles O'Brien and the only difference it seemed right now was rank? Julian wasn't sure but thinking of them as separate people. . . well. . . the O'Brien in the Wonderland universe had been cowed by long years of slavery. In Sisko's subsequent visits, O'Brien had transformed into a hard-line leader, commanding the rebel forces against the Alliance. Julian could see those qualities in this version of O'Brien as well. O'Brien gave a short nod of acceptance which was followed with, "We're evac-ing the entire ship, letting it cool down and the radiation to dissipate. Let's get these people out of here and to someplace that *doesn't* remind me of Betazed during the rainy season." *** Clearly, Sisko's newest visitors could not remain on board their battered ship while they attempted to complete repairs. Although Dax hadn't been able to get a precise scan of the new vessel, Sisko saw enough indications of tell him the severity of the damage. At least Captain O'Brien shared Sisko's apprehension about O'Brien's crew staying on board the station. The captain's conversation with the ambassador had been curt, and Ben had worked long enough with Chief O'Brien to detect the unstated, in Captain O'Brien's voice. Ambassador Bashir had stayed with Sisko and Kira until the Defiant had docked and then joined his shipmates. Sisko and Kira had enough time to contact Odo and Worf to get some semblance of security measures in order. Ben Sisko watched as Doctor Bashir led the first wave of O'Brien's Defiant crew out of the airlock. Walking slightly behind the doctor was a petite woman whom Ben assumed was the Defiant's CMO and she was next to an anti-grav cart carrying what looked like the battered outline of a Ferengi. Jabara followed, escorting another anti-grav with another patient, and Broome brought out the final patient. Bashir's medical entourage stopped, the doctor turning to chat with the woman. Six more of O'Brien's crew exited the airlock; two humans, two Bajorans, one Cardassian and one (what was the term the ambassador had used?) Carjoran moved to their injured shipmates and then formed a protective ring around the anti-gravs. Neither Captain O'Brien or Ambassador Bashir had been interested in using the transporter, agreeing on some excuse about the medical condition of the three patients, and Doctor Bashir had somewhat reluctantly confirmed the captain and ambassador's reasoning. Sisko watched how the weary crew members glanced around the area, cautious yet exhausted, and none of them smiled. There wasn't even a hint of discussion amongst them. Then Ben realized something, something that nagged him since those six officers ambled over to where Bashir and the woman were talking. They were young. Except for the one with Bashir, none of O'Brien's crew looked over twenty-five. Seventeen years of war, the ambassador had said, and Sisko's heart ached. "Quarters have been set up," Kira softly reported as she assumed her position to his right. "Habitat Ring level 7. Odo agreed with the ambassador's request to put some distance between them and the rest of the station population." She didn't have to add, Worf appeared next to Kira; Odo's "preventative" security forces had assembled in a manner Sisko hoped wouldn't be perceived as threatening. The changeling had insisted he be allowed to observe their visitors, an option the captain willingly agreed to. Ben had no idea exactly where Odo was, just that the shapeshifter was somewhere in the general vicinity. Besides, if Dax was correct about the scans of the ship, the weaponry on O'Brien's Defiant was very capable of effortlessly blowing up half the station and Odo wanted to make sure these people "stayed" friendly. Sisko glanced to his left and found Dax and O'Brien, the chief's face set in a friendly yet deliberate poker face. "Well. . . isn't *that* interesting," commented the Trill and it took a moment for Ben to find what she was looking at. Interesting didn't begin to define what they saw: a imposing and muscular Dukat emerged from the airlock shoulder to shoulder with Ambassador Bashir and they were in serious discussion. None of the Cardassian military armor ever fit as snug as this Dukat's clothing did, outlining powerful shoulders and legs. The Cardassian looked menacing and lethal, which was probably the look he wanted to achieve. A chill ran down Sisko's spine and he heard Kira inhale sharply while Worf adjusted his stance. The woman, the one who had been initially with Doctor Bashir when the crew came on board, had pivoted to face Ambassador Bashir and Dukat who had stopped just outside of the airlock. She waded through her crewmates and up to the duo. Her back was to Sisko and her body almost disappeared against the taller and broader forms of Dukat and Bashir. She was gesturing and Dukat apparently made a flippant reply followed by a comment from Bashir. Then Captain Miles O'Brien exited the airlock handing a datapadd to. . . Ben's eyes widened. His son. . . no, his *counterpart's* son was as disheveled, bloodied, bruised, and sweaty as the rest of them. Ben then found himself staring into Dukat's piercing eyes. The darker side of the captain immediately thought, The Cardassian's gaze then encompassed them all before settling back on Ben. Captain O'Brien glanced over, eyes meeting Ben's, and a broad smile broke across his features. Although O'Brien was openly friendly to the point of being almost alarming, Ben noted the woman was talking again and the smile froze briefly on Captain O'Brien's face. O'Brien then said something, Bashir and Dukat exchanged glances, Dukat signalled for Jake to approach and the Cardassian told the young man something. Jake nodded once, briefly gazed at the DS9 officers but barely looked at Ben, then walked back over to where another woman was standing at the edge of the airlock and they went back on board. Finally, O'Brien's group continued their approach. Something was wrong besides being thrown in an alternate universe, but Sisko couldn't figure out what it was. The moment she stepped on DS9, Kestra was aware of *it*. In a vain attempt to keep the conversation going with Bashir, she almost stumbled over the corner of the anti-grav unit carrying Nog as she mentally searched for the black void. There was a presence; the only way to describe it was as a flat, cold surface in the midst of warm, vibrant objects or an unmoving stone in a bubbling stream. Kestra tried to focus on it again, weeding out the thousand of voices which brushed against her mind, and finally she swivelled towards where she felt it emanating from. She saw nothing. Her heart went cold. Her stomach wrenched. She knew she must have blanched by the way the doctor was now addressing her. She wasn't listening, instead placing a hand on his forearm and stuttering out, "I'm sorry, Julian. I have to meet up with the captain." Moments later Kestra realized she'd called the doctor by his first name and his emotional response was a flush of flattered pleasure, not offense. She caught sight of the ambassador and Dukat exiting the airlock and tried her best not to run over to them. With her back to Sisko's crew, Kestra said one word, "Shifter." She could feel the rush of renewed alertness flow through them both as the Cardassian scanned the area. "They made no mention of Founders?" "Captain Sisko made it clear they had encountered them, but nothing about them being on the station," Bashir replied, the edge of anger in his voice. "It is possible a changeling could be here without their knowledge." "Ambassador," Kestra tried to keep the hissing out of her voice but her nerves were on fire, "I don't know where it is. It's close to the First Minister, but I can't. . . I can't pinpoint it." "The proximity detectors have not sounded," Dukat said. "Shifters here may be undetectable." "Mind telling me what this conference you're having in front of Captain Sisko's command staff is about?" O'Brien's hushed voice cut through and immediately Bashir and Dukat parted to allow him to step between them. The captain was blatantly annoyed at their actions although to anyone else, he was in a cheery mood. As he stared at his command staff, he stopped at Troi and the smile and aggravation froze. Miles knew *that* look. "Shifter," was all the doctor would say. O'Brien's eyes flicked up and then back down to her. "Where?" "I don't know." "Mister Sisko," Dukat called quietly and Jake joined their group, "I need a full scan of this area now." "Aye, sir," Sisko acknowledged and went back towards Brahms, who was on her way out of the airlock. "Cool it down," O'Brien warned the three who remained with him. "The last thing we need is a phaser fight." The captain resumed his walk towards Captain Sisko and his command crew, Dukat immediately to O'Brien's left and Bashir to his right, leaving Troi to trail behind. The introductions were made, nods of acknowledgment exchanged, and Ben noted how Dukat hid any arrogance, smugness, oiliness, or any of the unflattering descriptions Ben normally associated with the Cardassian. Instead, Dukat seemed almost. . . tolerable. . . but definitely distracted by something. The Cardassian looked around, keeping tabs on the DS9 crew as well as his own, and almost acted as if he were sightseeing. "A security team will escort your crew to the quarters we have arranged for you," Sisko told them. "I understand your desire to maintain some privacy and distance, but you are welcome to go freely about the station." Bashir stepped forward, "Obviously, your security concerns are as much as ours and I can assure you any and all information exchanges regarding technology will be handled by the captain and myself only." "Of course," Sisko replied. Suddenly, Dukat drew his weapon, aimed and fired at the ceiling bulkhead. Everyone reacted, the two crews yanking their phasers and pointing them at each other. Dukat kept his firearm aimed at the ceiling. As the thought began in Sisko's head, a blob of molten gold dropped from where the Cardassian had scored the hit and splashed upon the deck plates. Dukat continued to follow the movements with his weapon. "Dukat! No!" Sisko shouted and lunged towards the Cardassian. A hand clamped down on his shoulder and the captain found himself held in place by Captain O'Brien. Worf, Dax, Kira and Chief O'Brien rushed forward and stood in front of the pool of shimmering shapeshifter. "Put your weapon down!" Sisko yelled again. "All of you! Put down your weapons!" Slowly, Odo reformed himself although his form seemed almost watery in appearance, and Dax and Kira tried to offer assistance. Odo shook them off. Sisko felt Captain O'Brien's fingers digging into his upper arm and he pulled away. "Tell your people to stand down," Sisko snarled to O'Brien, "before someone gets hurt!" "I was under the impression Ambassador Bashir *explained* our situation," O'Brien retorted icily, clearly unimpressed with Sisko's attempt to order him around. "Is this Founder a friend of yours?" "Chief of station security," snapped Ben, "and one of my *most* trusted officers." "Captain Sisko," Ambassador Bashir stepped in, using that oddly placating voice which made the DS9 officers even more uneasy, "we have been at war with the Dominion for some time. We have grown used to defending ourselves against a multitude of attacks, from Jem'Hadar soldiers to Founders themselves. Dukat was merely acting in what he presumed were all of our best interests." a voice in Sisko's mind firmly told him, Bashir paused, offering a gentle smile. "It would be most beneficial if we do as Captain Sisko requests and put away our weapons." Captain O'Brien's gaze slid towards his people near the airlock and he gave a short nod. Sisko met Dax's defiant stare and jerked his head once. Both crews, except for Dukat and Worf, reluctantly lowered their weapons and reholstered them. It now became a match between the Cardassian and the Klingon as they stared at one another, almost daring the each other to make the first move. Sisko knew O'Brien wasn't about to order Dukat to stand down and the captain momentarily found himself unable to tell Worf to do the same. There was part of Sisko's mind which was registering just how fast Dukat was with that phaser (or whatever it was) and realized Worf was no match for the pure speed the Cardassian had just demonstrated. Dukat and Worf then did something utterly amazing. Both simultaneously pointed the noses of their weapons towards the ceiling, then with painstaking unison reholstered their weapons. They continued to stare at each other, shoulders squared and faces devoid of any emotion. Troi's softly accented voice seemed like a shout. "Treating our crew members in Doctor Bashir's infirmary should only take thirty minutes, sir. We will then return to quarters." Captain O'Brien ignored the doctor for a moment and his eyes blazed into Sisko's. "Odo has been chief of station security for over five years," Sisko told him. "He was appointed by the former prefect of this station, Gul Dukat. When the Cardassians withdrew, I asked Odo to remain as head of station security. It may not mean much to you, but we trust him implicitly. We do not judge a single being for the actions of his or her race." A bitter smile played across O'Brien's features. "As long as you remember that when dealing with my officers, Captain Sisko." "We will, Captain O'Brien," Sisko assured him rather forcefully. "We will." "Sir?" Troi prompted. "Lavelle and Sutter will accompany you," O'Brien said. "No risks." "Understood, sir." *** End Part 3 *** "Security protocols are in place," Dukat reported as he leaned back in the comfortable chair. Forty-five minutes after the near-disastrous confrontation with the shapeshifter and Sisko's staff, O'Brien's command crew met in the quarters the captain had claimed. "The areas designated for our use are clear of any surveillance equipment. All access tunnels, air ducts, and miscellaneous crawl spaces are being monitored by standard field units located in every room and have been cross linked in case of unit failure. These units should also prevent unauthorized transporter activity. "Deep Space Nine's population is mostly human and Bajoran," he went on. "There are four Ferengii currently on board and are located on the Promenade, which is the recreational and business section of the station." "The Promenade has two levels," Troi explained, "which have shops and restaurants and also where the security and medical offices are located. The passive tricorder scan I took places the Ferengii in a bar." "If they're anything like ours," Bashir commented. "They'll be knocking on our doors looking for a deal. Else, they'll be cajoling us while we're in their establishments." "The ambassador is correct in his assessment," Dukat confirmed. "According to the UFP database, the Ferengi share the same motivations as the ones in our universe. The security chief on this station has quite an extensive file on one in particular: Quark. He is the proprietor of the establishment the doctor referred to. However, I do not foresee them as a difficult problem. "Our scans have only detected one Cardassian and one Carjoran. Given the political situation, any contact between us and them may be deemed suspicious by our hosts even if supervised." Bashir shook his head as he walked slowly around the room. "Any conversations had between Dukat and them could be seen as an act of self-preservation: ensuring Cardassia is prepared for the eventual Dominion invasion. But the captain's, Chief Sisko's and my counterparts are all on the station as well and to the Bajoran Provisional government, the Cardassian Empire or any other non-UFP aligned government, any discussions the captain and I initiate could be seen in the same light." "There is the matter of their shapeshifter, Odo. As Captain Sisko explained, Odo has served as chief of security on this station for five years and did function in a similar manner during the Occupation." The Cardassian's face broke into a swaggering smile. "They seem to be very trusting individuals." "None of our sensors detected the Founder's sub-molecular structure." Brahms did not share Dukat's outward amusement over the changeling's apparent respect on the station. O'Brien could tell she struggled to maintain her professionalism in an attempt to follow Dukat's example of impassiveness. However, Miles understood why Brahms wasn't being successful. Here, on this station, they faced the possibility of being exactly in the same position they were three years ago, unable to detect or track a shifter. That ability to descry Founders using technology rather than depending solely on the telepathic and empathic population of the Federation had alleviated some of the paranoia the Dominion had created. It had been the first step forward the Federation had had in almost six months and had given a vital boost to their perseverance. It had given O'Brien an added edge in keeping his youthful crew focused and positive. The captain knew he'd have to deliver another passionate speech to his followers, reminding them this was not their universe and the Founders in their universe did not have the ability to thwart the tracking mechanism. Brahms would undoubtedly devote every moment, no matter how exhausted she was, to discovering just why this Odo could not be scanned. She tried to nonchalantly shrug her shoulders, to show she was just as capable of handling the situation as anyone else in the room, and she continued. "Some of this can be attributed to equipment malfunction, maybe even interference from the station's infrastructure, but I am concerned the Founder many not possess the trace elements by which we can track the changelings in *our* universe." "Captain Sisko and his staff were obviously threatened by Dukat's attack on the Founder, but also curious as to the weapon used," Troi reported. "Sisko wanted to keep Odo's origins a secret for awhile longer and the captain may have wanted Odo to observe us. Sisko will probably keep our contact with Odo severely limited and carefully monitored. They have accepted him, made him part of *their* personal realities. I cannot sense any other changelings on the station at this time, but it will be difficult to discern them from the large population residing here, unless, of course, they are within a close vicinity." Miles glanced over to his chief engineer. "Sisko, what did the 'Hadar hit us with?" "We've analyzed the sensor logs from the encounter and discovered the full spread of torpedoes detonated *before* they came in contact with our shields. The resulting energy was used to cloak the second weapon: a pulse wave of negatively charged ions meant to dissolve our shields," Jake informed them. "The 'Hadar wanted the Defiant intact, sir, that much is clear. But since the Defiant was already in the subspace field distortion, the ionic field caused a rip in the space-time continuum *inside* the distortion and pushed us through. "It did cause severe damage to the warp and phase drives," Jake let out a slow breath. "We can get them repaired, two days working all shifts at least, but that's *if* we can get the materials we need. I've scanned their Defiant and confirmed the dilithium-based warp systems. Getting our main computer and other systems besides the propulsion systems on-line is a matter of going system by system and repairing or replacing the bio-conduits. All engineering supplies were heavily stocked during our last docking at Starbase 717, but it looks like the parts which were blown in the phasing engines are the ones which require complete systems shutdown and drydock to repair. It will take about five hours to decontaminate the ship and allow the engines and bioconduits to cool off enough so they can be worked on." "Brahms, without the phase drive, do you have any ideas on how we can get back?" "If we had to send individual people back, I would recommend modifying the transporter. There is a remote chance we could reconfigure this station's transporter to encompass our Defiant and send us back that way," she proposed. "The biggest problem is it would take at least a month to do so." "So we're down to getting the phase drive online for us to get home," the captain bottom-lined. Solemn nods answered him. He paused again, ideas scurrying around in his mind, and he looked up to find Troi staring at him. He knew what she wanted. The low light levels on the Defiant helped conceal the exhaustion and bleary-eyes of his dedicated crew, but now in this brighter environment, the captain was uncomfortable with what he saw. Something was going to break soon, and Miles definite didn't want it to be his crew. His thoughts flew back to his dead pilot. Already the news had circulated and his troops had been even more crestfallen. Paris had been the bridge between the seasoned officers and the youthful crew, he had been their role model, and of all of O'Brien's command officers, the loss effected Jake the most. Miles had a rare opportunity to let himself and his crew grieve. "Have the crew gather for Tom's memorial service," O'Brien quietly ordered. "I believe these quarters are the largest and should be able to accommodate us. Oh, and ambassador, what about relaying a cleaned up version of the engineering and science reports to Captain Sisko? If I were him, I'd be worried not just about us but about the 'Hadar." *** "Comments." The word spoken by Captain Sisko focused everyone's attention. There was a moment of silence. The doctor was the first to speak, "Medically speaking, these people are on the brink of exhaustion. If the luxury of two months rest were an option, I'd enforce it. Also, instead of traditional commbadges, they each have a subdermal communications device integrated with the audio nerves." Of them all, Bashir was the one with the most contact with their visitors and Sisko prodded him to continue. "What about the lack of rank insignia? The fact the crew is so young?" "How did one of them put it? 'If the Jem'Hadar decides to board us, we don't want to give them a map to our commanders.' They are a very tightly knit bunch," the doctor explained. "As for their youth, it was explained with the same simplicity as the rank pins: during battle, what is the first part of the ship that's targeted?" "Engineering," rumbled Worf. "Precisely." "And if they've been at war for seventeen years," O'Brien added quietly, "they've lost a lot of good people." "There is one other thing." The slight guilt and embarrassment radiated from Bashir as he placed a tricorder on the conference table. "I ran a scan on their chief medical officer. To look at her you wouldn't realize she is half-Betazoid, half human. She possesses a highly developed empathic skill." "Which explains why she trusted you as quickly as she did and the main reason Captain O'Brien and Ambassador Bashir have been so open in their discussions. If they have subdermal communication devices, the ambassador was probably in contact with his captain during all of our initial negotiations," Sisko thought aloud. "I guess after playing poker for seventeen years, you make damned sure you have more than one ace up your sleeve." "Speaking of aces," Dax cut in, "how much alike their Defiant to ours?" "Structurally, they're about the same," Sisko replied, although his mind was clearly elsewhere. "Ambassador Bashir made it quite clear they're not expecting to find compatible technology here." "He said he'd made more than one trip to an alternate reality," Kira offered. "I wonder if they crossover to escape from battles." "If it were to save his crew, he might," countered O'Brien. "But jumping from reality to reality is very risky. You never know where you may end up." "Unless they have some control over it," Dax reasoned. "They have made very clear the differences in political structures and the development of technologies. We can't assume just because we haven't come upon the technology, they haven't. Julian, you and your team were the only ones allowed on board. Did you get a chance to look at control panels or instruments?" Bashir cleared his throat and nodded towards the tricorder. "I had this one set to continual scan of the area. To be honest, a majority of their medical equipment remind me of the things Chief O'Brien and I have been working on to make Cardassian technology work with the Federation's," he admitted. "The displays were also a combination as well. I don't think it would be too far off our own." Sisko briefly stared down at the tricorder, "Did they notice it?" "If they did," Julian tried not to cough to hide his sheepishness, "they did not confront me. I originally brought it along to monitor the levels of radiation." "Of course," Sisko replied drily. "Good work, doctor. I'm sure the chief and Odo will have plenty to dissect." He lapsed into silence again and realized only one remaining steadfastly silent was Odo. The shapeshifter still showed the aftereffects of the phaser blast Dukat had hit him with; the constable's body occasionally rippled like the surface of a pond when the wind blew. However, Bashir hadn't even mentioned what the weapon had physically done to Odo and for an officer who had no qualms about ordering superior officers around when it came to their health, it was more than a bit unusual. Ben could rationalize Julian's seeming lack of concern to one thing: the last thing the doctor wanted in his Infirmary was a phaser shoot out. Given how Dukat and O'Brien's crew had reacted to Odo reforming himself (the gasps and wide, panicked-filled eyes had etched themselves in Ben's mind), Bashir probably realized having Odo and these alternates in the same room was about as intelligent as having Gul Dukat and a bunch of rabid Bajoran nationalists in a confined area. One just didn't do it. Gauging how the doctor was now eyeing Odo with the same look which always a prelude to, "You're going to the Infirmary now. End of story. I don't care what excuse you may have. In this matter, my word *is* the law," Ben knew his chief of security would be in Bashir's domain immediately after the meeting. Yet, it didn't explain how no one mentioned the incident. Were they waiting for Odo's permission to discuss it? That was a possibility, but in a situation which warranted a complete understanding of just what their visitors were capable of, it was unacceptable. Was the security chief humiliated Dukat could detect his presence? Was Odo genuinely worried Captain O'Brien's crew would hunt him down just because he was a shapeshifter? Was the threat of finding a weapon which could ultimately annihilate Odo's own people crowding the changeling's thoughts? Sisko mused darkly, "Constable," the captain called out but wasn't able to finish the sentence. Odo jumped in, alleviating the need to ask the question. "Dukat did not intend to kill me," he grunted, "only incapacitate. The weapon temporarily disrupted my ability to hold my shape." "They had to have accessed our databases," Dax reasoned as she faced the changeling. "That's the only way they could have known about you. Either that or they have the ability to detect shapeshifters." "Doctor, you said their doctor is empathic?" Odo asked. Julian shook his head yes. "Lwaxana Troi once told me she could feel a presence, but no emotions, much in the manner as Betazoids sense Ferengii. They cannot read their emotions, but know they are present. If Doctor Troi possesses the same capability, she could have detected I was in the vicinity." "But you were a bulkhead!" Julian protested. "How could she have discerned. . .." "Don't you recall how she suddenly went over to the ambassador and Dukat? I heard their discussion. She said, 'shifter,' but admitted she was unable to pinpoint my location. Dukat and the ambassador looked around, Captain O'Brien was angry with them for 'having a conference' in front of us, Troi informed him she sensed me, and Dukat ordered Mister Sisko to scan the area," Odo spat. "Sisko then returned to their Defiant. Captain O'Brien also told his people he didn't want a phaser fight, although it was clear he was ready for one himself." "If they have subdermal communicators," Kira said, "Jake could have located Odo and told Dukat where to shoot." "No, major," Odo corrected softly. "He knew where I was because I moved. Didn't you notice how Dukat continually searched the area? I was attempting to move closer to the airlock to find out what Mister Sisko had been ordered to do." "Could that weapon. . .." the captain began to ask. "Captain Sisko, phased energy weapons have the same effect on changelings as they do on solids," Odo interrupted harshly. "I have no doubt that weapon could have terminated my life. Perhaps their Dukat is as arrogant as ours and was simply showing off." The group fell silent again, the bluntness of Odo's statements sinking in. Captain O'Brien and Dukat had certainly accomplished something: they were a definite threat to Odo's well being and forced Ben into second guessing the use of his best reconnaissance officer. The captain decided, "Mister Worf, I want you to take over for Odo. . .." "That would not be advisable, captain," the changeling cut Sisko off for the third time, "unless you wish to encourage their feelings of hostility. I don't want these people shooting up the station just because they think every glimmer is a shapeshifter. Plus, if these people have discovered a way to track the Founders, Starfleet and everyone else in the Alpha Quadrant will want it and you cannot afford to jeopardize this opportunity." Ben steepled his fingers, angered at the way the situation had turned. He had been sincere in his desire to protect Odo; his order for Worf to assume the constable's duties was not some psychological trick to get the changeling to agree to a dangerous assignment. Odo did have a point, a very valid one and one which Ben had been subconsciously attempting to gloss over. "Captain, Odo is absolutely correct," Dax affirmed. "They are nervous enough as it is. We remove Odo from their line of sight and we only promote their paranoia, not protect the constable." "The two security personnel Captain O'Brien sent with Doctor Troi, Lavelle and Sutter I believe their names were, acted highly agitated while I was tending to their crew mates," Bashir added. "I wouldn't say they were begging for an encounter, only very aware one was possible." "I still think it had something to do with those subdermal communicators." Kira theorized, "One of them tapped into DS9's database, found out about Odo, and subsequently contacted Dukat and O'Brien, perhaps the rest of the crew." "The major could be correct in her assessment," Odo told Sisko. "Dukat did seem to hesitate after the first shot. However, it could just be Dukat's arrogance. He could have wanted to make a show about how his people could detect and protect us from Founders. He could have been using it as a test, to see how we reacted. There are several plausible explanations for Dukat's behavior." "Whatever the case," Dax said, "they have made their point clear. They have no reservations about attacking Odo." Thankful for Dax's timely summarization since Sisko and his crew could undoubtedly drive the "what if" scenarios into the ground, the captain pushed forward to the next hurdle they faced. "The Federation will most likely send a diplomatic team as will First Minister Shakaar. We can expect to hear from the Klingons, Romulans, Ferengi and the Cardassians." "What if one of their Dominion show up?" Worf's growl sliced through the room. "Ambassador Bashir has already stated the Dominion has found other ways into their Alpha Quadrant besides the wormhole. If this alternate Defiant can cross over, what will stop their Dominion counterparts?" As if on cue, the doors to the wardroom slid open and one of Odo's deputies stepped through. "Captain Sisko, Doc. . ." the Bajoran corrected himself, obviously uneasy with the doubles of command officers, "Um. . . *Ambassador* Bashir asked this be delivered to you, sir." The man held out a datapadd and Sisko accepted it with a dismissing nod. The deputy left them. Ben glanced down at the thin board, one which clearly came from the ambassador's camp, and saw the odd message. "'It's the seventh inning,'" he read aloud. "'Buy me some peanuts and. . ..'" The ambassador was clever with a faintly cryptic message. What was Bashir trying to tell him? This new group had accessed the station's databases as Kira had guessed? How else could Bashir know about Ben's passion for baseball? The captain was far from amused but noted the almost obscure chronometer in the upper left hand corner, probably an indication if the message had been routed elsewhere and not directly to the captain. Ben found himself humming "Take Me Out to the Ball Game," the traditional tune sung during the seventh inning stretch and tapped in the words "Cracker Jack." Instantly, the screen flashed to life. Like everything else associated with them, the emblem of the First Federation was a unique combination of the Vulcan, UFP, Cardassian and Bajoran symbols. What was below, Sisko shared with his crew: "It is the belief of the science, engineering, and tactical officers this crossover was a direct result of a concentration of enemy fire to engineering as the Defiant attempted to engage engines. Due to the configuration of the propulsion drives, shielding, and types of weapons used, a brief rift in the space-time continuum can occur when there are high levels of neutrinos and concentrations of energy weapons discharge. The likelihood of such an event: 9,512 to 1. "The residual radiation levels experienced moments before and after the crossover are not common for the types of weapons associated with Jem'Hadar warships. There is evidence a new weapon was employed during this most recent conflict in attempt to capture the ship rather than destroy it. Since Jem'Hadar propulsion systems are radically different from those of Starfleet, the likelihood of a Jem'Hadar warship crossing into this reality is 1,723,201 to 1." There was a side note, one which did not match the log-style entry, but Sisko kept it to himself for a moment. Either Troi's empathic ability was stronger than anyone thought, or somehow the ambassador and captain had been able to listen in on their conversation. Then Ben looked at the chronometer again and subtracted the elapsed time. The message was sent before he had commenced this meeting. *** End Part 4 ***