The BLTS Archive - Incursion
sixth in the Greensleeves series
by ScopesMonkey (melanie.crisfield@gmail.com)

---

Author's Note: This is a Greensleeves AU story and takes place approximately 4
years after the story Greensleeves.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any characters, events, or locations
associated with it. All original characters, events, and locations are my
property and may not be used without permission. I am not making any money off
of this.

---
Prologue
---

It was freezing.

No, that was wrong. It was beyond freezing. Kelde Moset huddled in the hollow
she'd found, keeping herself as small as she could. It wasn't just the piercing
wind that blew across the entire snowy plain from which she was trying to shield
herself. The hollow, more of a rocky hole than anything, helped protect her. The
semi-circle of large black rocks on the rim helped keep the wind from plunging
toward her.

It was those things out there she was hiding from.

She had no idea what they were. She'd never seen a species like that in her
life. Maybe they were Trisepat; Kelde had only met a few Vorta and one Hendulu,
once, when she'd been an adolescent. That had been four years ago. She had lived
her entire life on Cardassia Prime, and she was a terraforming technologist, not
a politician or explorer. The Trisepat didn't have much cause to visit the
terraforming labs on Cardassia, and she'd never had a reason to cross through
the wormhole and visit their space.

The aliens looked like Vulcans more than anything. But harder, angrier. Kelde
had extensive experience working with Vulcans; the Vulcan Science Council sent
terraformers to Cardassia Prime quite often. Cardassian terraforming techniques
were considered among the best in the Federation. The Vulcans she'd worked with
had been measured and calm.

They did not have the habit of shooting at Federation vessels and trying to kill
their crews.

They'd find the escape pod soon enough. She had left it immediately, without
bothering to try and help the other person inside. Myran had died on impact.
Kelde had survived unscathed. It was almost lucky for the other Cardassian she
had died when she did. A quick death was better than freezing to death out here
on the wind swept, icy plain. There hadn't been enough time to gather emergency
equipment, but Kelde had been working in the cold lab when the evacuation order
had been issued; it was the only reason the cold wasn't going to kill her
immediately. The thermal suit would keep her warm enough, but its systems would
give out eventually. And she would have to eat. The probability of finding any
food on this barren expanse was low.

Still, it wouldn't matter if she couldn't conceal her biosigns. She pulled out
her tricorder and flipped it open, scanning the area while staying huddled in
her barely adequate hiding place. There were aliens around, but not too close to
her. They'd trace her from the escape pod, though, even if the wind had covered
her tracks.

She worked quickly, using a trick her brother, a Starfleet Intelligence officer,
had taught her years ago. A standard tricorder could be programmed to mask the
life signs of one person if necessary. It was a trick very few people knew, but
Kelde had memorized it. Trintar had taught her a great deal of survival tactics.
Right now, she was more grateful than ever for the protectiveness of an older
brother.

The tricorder beeped, letting her know the dampening field was in place, and
Kelde tried to huddle down further. Snowing was blowing over her and she let it,
trying to ignore the cold that stung the exposed parts of her face. She pulled
the hood of her thermal jacket as tight as it would go, but her nose and eyes
were still exposed. The Cardassian hid her face in her legs, listening intently.
She heard the crystalline crunch of boots on the icy snow and gritted her teeth
against the noise. If they saw her, they'd identify her. The tricorder trick
would be of no use then.

Voices carried across the cold wind in a harsh language she didn't understand.
It didn't sound like anything in the Federation, but she wasn't wearing a
universal translator. Why would anyone attack a ship of terraformers? Teilos was
easily within Cardassian space, and no one had any issue with the fact that the
Cardassian government wanted to adapt it for habitation. One of the conditions
of the merger between the Alliance and the Federation was that the Cardassians
and Bajorans were allowed to regain local control over the systems that had been
theirs for centuries.

And Teilos was considered too warm for even a Cardassian to inhabit comfortably.
Why would anyone else want it?

And, most importantly, where the hell was she now?

The voices and footsteps faded. Kelde waited tensely, straining her ears for any
hint that they might return. There was only the high pitched whine of the wind
whistling across the stones above her.

After a long hour, she raised her head cautiously, squinting against the cold,
and peered out from her hiding place. There was nothing but the whiteness of
snow and the blackness of the scattered rocks. The wind howled forlornly,
reinforcing the fact that she was alone. The sky was bleak and low, the clouds
hiding the sun so that she could not even make out where it might be.

Unwilling to leave her hiding place just yet, in case the aliens returned, the
young Cardassian woman huddled back down, pressing her hands between her knees
and keeping her head down, listening to the empty sound of the wind.

---
Terek Nor
---

The doors to the infirmary hissed open and Doctor Julian Bashir looked up,
smiling when he saw Captain Benjamin Sisko. Bashir had been on duty for three
hours now, but so far, no one had come seeking his help. He was glad for the
time to catch up on his prion replication research, but also glad for the
interruption to the silence.

"Good morning, sir," he greeted.

The captain nodded, looking troubled. He was drumming the fingers of his right
hand against the back of the PADD he was carrying.

"How are you, Julian?" he asked, meeting the doctor's gaze with his dark eyes.

"Fine, sir. Is there something I can help you with?" Sisko seemed unusually
distracted. Bashir assessed his captain quickly; he didn't seem ill, just ill at
ease.

"How are Renzi and Narye?" the captain asked.

"Fine," Bashir replied, smiling again at the mention of his daughters. "They're
at the care center right now."

Sisko nodded.

"And Dax?" he asked.

Bashir raised an eyebrow.

"She was up in Ops earlier," he pointed out. "You didn't talk to her?"

"She went down to the lab," Sisko said, as if this explained why he was asking
Bashir about her.

"Captain, what is this about?" Bashir said, crossing his arms.

Sisko sighed, glancing down at the PADD, then up again at the doctor.

"About an hour ago, Empok Nor picked up a distress call from a Cardassian ship
near the Telios-Celan system. It was crewed by a group of scientists, mostly
terraformers, who were on their way to Telios in order to begin a terraforming
project. They were under attack when they sent the distress call, but Empok Nor
was not able to establish any communication with them."

Bashir uncrossed his arms, immediately concerned.

"Someone attacked a terraforming crew? Why?"

"We have no idea," Sisko replied. "Empok Nor sent out a rescue vessel
immediately, only to discover that the Glain – the terraformers' ship – wasn't
there. Nor were any other vessels."

"Debris?" Bashir asked.

"None. The only warp signature was the Glain's, heading toward Telois-Celan.
They did, however, find evidence of a spatial anomaly. It was emitting unusual
radiation signatures, which the crew from Empok Nor hadn't seen before. They
sent the data to us, requesting help from Starfleet. They also sent the message
they received from the Glain before it vanished. It included this."

He handed the PADD to Bashir, who took it and looked at the small screen. He hit
the display key and a clip from the Glain's small bridge ran. Apparently,
someone had felt it necessary to record a moment of the attack.

The alien face on the viewscreen jarred him. He stared at it, then up at Sisko.

"Angry Vulcans," he said quietly.

Sisko nodded.

"The unusual energy readings matched the ones Dax and I took four years ago from
the interdimensional rip."

"The attackers came from the other Bashir's universe."

"I think so," Sisko replied. "Starfleet has put me in charge of the rescue
operation. You're coming. You're the closest thing I have to an expert on that
universe."

"Sir, I don't remember anything," Bashir said. "I wrote down what I could
remember when I got back, but it's all gone now. I only have my log entries to
go on, and they aren't much."

"And you have the log entries the other Bashir made while he was here."

"Which also aren't much."

"Regardless," Sisko said. "You're the only one who spent time over there. And
who knows what kind of shape those Cardassian scientists will be in when we find
them. I need a doctor, and that doctor is you, Julian. Dax will stay here,
because I need someone I can trust on this end, and your daughters need one of
you two around."

Bashir nodded, handing the PADD back to the captain. He had no desire to go on
this mission, but he knew he had no choice. And Sisko was right: he had lived in
that universe, if only for a few days, and they would need a doctor.

"Who else?" he asked.

"Eddington's on his way from Bajor right now; I've requested he cancel his leave
and come with us. We could use him. Ezri, Ro, ch'Thane, O'Brien, Nog, Verin. I'm
still deciding on the others. If Admiral Dukat is in the area, you can bet he'll
be coming along, because if Legate Garak isn't demanding their return yet, he
will be soon. One of the terraformers was the youngest daughter of Doctor Crell
Moset."

"The exobiologist?" Bashir asked.

Sisko nodded.

"He's one of the most prominent scientists on Cardassia. The Cardassian
government won't take the abduction of one of his children lightly."

"I wouldn't, either," Bashir said. He thought of how he'd feel if it were Renzia
or Narye suddenly missing then shook the thought off. It was too horrifying.

"When do we leave?" he asked.

"Briefing in half an hour, depature in ninety minutes. I thought you might want
to talk to Dax yourself."

Bashir nodded.

"Thank you, sir," he said.

"I'm sorry to put this on you," Sisko replied, tapping the PADD against the palm
of his right hand. He looked as if he might say something else, but simply gave
his head a little shake and left the infirmary. Bashir turned the infirmary over
to Nurse Jabara for the time being and stepped out onto the promenade. Before he
went to talk to his wife, there was something else he had to do. He made his way
past Quark's, which was busy even at this early hour, past the tailor's and the
Vulcan restaurant, to the child care center.

Renzia spotted him the moment he walked through the door. She grinned,
clambering to her feet and hurried over to him, arms out. Bashir swung her up in
a hug. Narye toddled over and Bashir scooped her up as well. One of the care
takers, a Bajoran woman named Leal, looked over at him.

"I won't be long," Bashir said. Leal nodded.

"Hi, Daddy," Renzia said. "Are you takin' us home early?"

"No, sweetie, I just need to talk to you and Narye. Want a snack?"

The two girls nodded eagerly and Bashir put Renzia down, holding her head. Narye
he kept in his arms. At four, Renzia kept up with him well enough, but Narye
wasn't two yet, and hand a tendency to wander off, especially on the promenade.
The diversity of people fascinated the girls. Now it seemed normal to Bashir,
but he could remember when he and Dax had first arrived here, how amazing it
was. Even after attending Starfleet Academy on Earth.

He took them to the replimat and got them a croissant to share and some juice.
He ordered some scones for himself, too; it had been awhile since breakfast.
Bashir took a moment to just look at his daughters. Renzia looked remarkably
like Dax; the dark hair, blue eyes, delicate features. Her skin was slightly
darker than her mother's, though, something which she got from her father, and
her Trill spots were faded, given her half-human heritage. Narye, on the other
hand, was pale skinned, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Her Trill markings
were as vivid as Dax's, although everyone said she looked like Bashir, even
those who knew she was adopted, the orphaned child of two Trill who had died in
a shuttle crash.

"I need to leave the station for a few days. I'm going on a mission," he said as
Narye stuffed her mouth with pastry and Renzia drank her juice with a
respectable amount of decorum.

"Why?" his oldest daughter asked, putting her cup down. Narye watched him;
Bashir knew she didn't fully understand what he was saying , but he needed to
tell her, too.

"To help a group of Cardassian terraformers who had trouble with their ship."

"How long'll you be gone?" Renzia asked.

"I don't know," Bashir said honestly. "It depends on how much help they need."

"Can we come, too?" Renzia asked.

"No. It might be dangerous. You're going to stay here, with Mommy."

Renzia spun her juice cup around, looking thoughtful.

"Will you call us?" she asked.

"If I can, I will," Bashir replied.

"For bed stories," Narye insisted.

Bashir smiled.

"If I can call to read you a bedtime story, I will. But we might be busy. There
might be people who are hurt and need my help."

"Is Simon going?" Renzia enquired.

"No, he's staying here, on the station. We need a doctor here, too."

His eldest daughter nodded, looking thoughtful. Then she nodded again, as if she
had decided this was acceptable to her and was giving him permission to go.

"Is Uncle Miles going?" Renzia asked.

"Yes, but Aunt Keiko will be here."

"Okay."

"I'll be leaving very soon, so I won't see you tonight. Will you be all right?"

Renzia looked at Narye, who nodded over the rim of her juice cup. She had it
clutched between her two small hands and was drinking carefully from it, but not
carefully enough to prevent a trickle of juice from dripping onto her shirt.

"Yep," Renzia replied for both of them.

"Good. Finish up and I'll take you back to the play group. I need to talk to
Mommy, then I have a meeting about the mission."

The girls ate what was left of the croissant and Bashir swallowed his scones
hurriedly. He picked up Narye again and took Renzia's hand, leading them back to
the care center. He wished he had more time with them, but they were safe here,
and there was a ship full of missing and probably frightened Cardassian
scientists to find.

"Can Mommy take us to Trill while you're away?" Renzia asked.

"Tell you what," Bashir said. "I'll talk to her, and when we get back, we can
all go. Sound good?"

Renzia's face lit up in a bright smile.

"Sounds good," she replied. Commander Jadzia Dax watched Benjamin Sisko
carefully as he briefed his senior staff on the missing Cardassian science
vessel and its suspected whereabouts. Even if she hadn't known him through two
lifetimes she would be able to tell he was displeased. Everyone in the room was
displeased, her husband most of all. Bashir was keeping a better lid on it,
however, something he'd learned in his medical training. Never give anything
away if possible. Sisko's eyes were dark, and his voice was lower than normal.

He was not looking forward to reconnecting with the alternate universe.

Dax didn't blame him. She glanced at those who had been onboard when the
original crossover had happened – Eddington, Tarses, Reth, O'Brien, Nog – and
saw the reluctance and displeasure on their faces. For the others – Vaughn, Ro,
ch'Thane – there was more confusion than anything. No one actually remembered
the events of those few days. It was as if their memories had simply glossed
over that time, superimposing normal station life where the disruption had been.

Now, it would be different. This time, the connection between the realities
seemed to be a deliberate one. Part of Dax wished she were going on this
mission, to help with reopening the passage these aliens, Romulans the other
Bashir had named them, had created. Another part of her knew she had to stay
here. It was conceivable that upon returning to that universe, her husband might
remember something of it, which would be invaluable. Someone had to stay with
their daughters, too. It was difficult to raise a family as Starfleet officers,
but Sisko did the best he could in ensuring that either Bashir or Dax was around
for them.

And, as Bashir had told her, the captain needed someone he could trust. It had
been almost four years now since Kira had left, returning to the Federation
embassy on Bajor in order to be closer to Kai Bareil. Now she was second in
command of the embassy and the mother of an infant son named Keryn. Commander
Elias Vaughn had been assigned to take her place. He was a competent officer and
he and Sisko worked well enough together. That was the problem. It was only well
enough. Kira and Sisko had worked extremely well together, despite some initial
rockiness. Dax knew Sisko missed his first ex-oh, and that he could never fully
trust another the way he'd trusted Kira. She was glad he was a station captain,
not a starship captain, where ex-ohs changed more routinely. He'd always had
trouble adapting to loss.

Dax was also glad Ro was here. There was something Kiraesque about the Bajoran
woman's presence. Perhaps it was because she was a Bajoran woman. They needed
that mettle right now. Several Cardassian security guards had been handpicked by
Ro, for which Dax was grateful. They needed Cardassians on this mission as well.
She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be suddenly confronted with a
hostile alien species – yes, she reminded herself, she could. But the memory had
faded enough so as not to bother her, and these Cardassians were missing and
afraid now.

"We leave in half an hour," Sisko said, wrapping up the briefing. "We have
engineering teams prepping the Quicksilver for departure right now. I know it's
not much time, but we may not have much time at all. Dismissed."

The gathering broke up, people heading quickly for the door. Dax took Bashir's
hand, which she had not done during the meeting. They had agreed long ago that
they would keep their comportment professional when working together. It made it
easier, most of the time. But he was feeling uneasy now, and they were headed
for their quarters. They left the ward room behind Ezri Reth, who looked
displeased, her normally cheerful features pinched into a frown. Dax knew that
the other Trill woman couldn't be happy with this – not only were they facing
something they had no memory of, but Jarlan Kren, Reth's husband, had only
arrived on the station permanently eight days ago. He was a civilian geologist,
which wasn't much use on a space station, but he had landed a position with the
Federation Science Council and would be a member of the civilian surveys in the
area and on the other side of the wormhole. Reth had known him since she was a
teenage Ezri Tigan, although they'd lost touch after she'd left Trill for
Starfleet Academy. Dax had remembered Reth and Kren – then Tigan and Cevan –
from when she was joined. She had seen them both that day, on the way to the
psychology wing at the Symbiosis Commission. It was odd how small the universe
could be, sometimes.

Or how small two universe could be, she supposed.

They returned to their quarters and Bashir found a suitcase, putting a fresh
uniform, pajamas, and personal items. He didn't have to take much, but Dax knew
they were both wondering how long he'd be away.

"Want some tea?" she asked. It always helped him calm down.

"Yes," he said, looking up from his work and giving her a genuine smile. Dax
smiled back and headed for the replicator, ordering an Earl grey tea for her
husband and a red leaf tea for herself. Bashir headed her off as she returned to
the bedroom, stepping into the living room, taking the mug from her.

"Thanks," he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Are you all right, Jules?" she asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

He sighed, sinking onto the couch. Time was limited, Dax knew, but then, when
you got right down to it, time was always limited.

"I'm not sure how to feel," he said, then shook his head. "No, I am sure. I'm
angry. At these Romulans for taking a bunch of Cardassian scientists. And it's
selfish, because I'm not just angry that they're missing, but that I got dragged
into it."

Dax nodded. She understand how it felt, and was willing to bet it was normal.

"I wasn't expecting to cross between universe when I signed up with Starfleet,"
Bashir said, only half-joking. "When I agreed to go anywhere they sent me, I
didn't quite realize the definition of 'anywhere'."

"I doubt they did either, at the time," Dax replied, sipping her tea.

Bashir pushed himself to his feet, walking across the room, gazing at the framed
pictures they had on a small table. One was of the four of them, shortly after
they'd adopted Narye. She was a tiny baby in the picture, unable to even hold
her head up. Renzia had been just over two years old, full of life and toddler
impatience, but had been grinning for the holophoto anyway. Another picture was
of a much younger Bashir and Dax, taken on their wedding day. The ceremony had
been small, the party huge. Another was of Dax and her two sisters, Talan and
Merien, when they were younger. He picked up the photo of his family.

"Mind if I take it?" he asked.

"Worried you won't remember what we look like?" she teased. He shot her a grin.

"How could I forget?" he asked in return.

"Go ahead," Dax replied, and Bashir headed back into the bedroom, reappearing
with the suitcase a moment later. Dax put her mug aside.

"I guess we should go," she said.

"I suppose so," her husband agreed and she pushed herself to her feet,
accompanying him to the airlock. She wasn't the only one come to see someone
off: Keiko, Molly, and Kirayoshi O'Brien were there, Keiko admonishing her
husband to be careful and the two children pestering them with questions.
ch'Thane's mates were there, all four of them locked in what appeared to be a
very serious conversation. Ro was talking to another Bajoran accompanying them
on the mission, one of her security officers, but they didn't appear to be too
concerned about the events unfolding. Maybe security had to learn to be like
that, Dax thought. Or else they'd live their jobs.

Reth and Kren were nowhere to be seen, but Sisko appeared, talking in a low tone
to Vaughn. The captain's own small family wasn't on the station at the moment:
Jake had returned to Earth almost four years ago, to pursue a writing career,
and Kasidy was on a transport run. She had taken Rebecca with her, which was
just as well, since Sisko certainly couldn't bring his daughter along.

"Be sure to write or call when you can," Dax said, giving her husband a quick
kiss on the lips.

"I will," Bashir promised and gave her another, longer kiss. Then he wrapped his
arms around her, hugging her tightly. Dax hugged back, accepting the sadness and
the hint of fear. She supposed this was the curse of the Starfleet officer with
a family: there was always someone worrying about someone else.

"Bring them home," she said.

"I intend to," her husband promised. Julian Bashir stepped into the tiny, two
person quarters to which he'd been assigned. The Quicksilver had been assigned
to Terok Nor almost six years ago, after Starfleet Command had gotten tired of
listening to requests from Sisko for a ship. Its purpose was mostly scientific,
although it certainly hadn't been constructed as a science vessel. It was a
Defiant class ship, designed shortly after Wolf 359, a tactical vessel to be
used in defending the Federation against the Borg. The Borg threat had since
diminished, even more so after the Federation had made contact with the
Trisepat. The Gamma Quadrant organization had shared their tracking and sensor
technologies, providing the Federation with a better means of identifying Borg
vessels at a longer range. The flagship of the Quicksilver's class, the Defiant,
had gone to Deep Space Eight. The Quicksilver had been adapted less for
defensive purposes by O'Brien and his crew, and was often commanded by Dax on
science missions. Otherwise, it was used for catch-all purposes.

No one had been able to do anything about the size of the quarters, though. Or
the fact that most crew members, even senior staff, had to double up when the
ship had a full crew complement.

Ezri Reth looked up from sorting her clothing on the bottom bunk. Bashir stopped
and the counselor raised an eyebrow.

"Sisko is certainly subtle," Bashir said dryly. Reth grinned, shaking her head.

"I had no idea," she assured him.

"I believe you," Bashir replied with a sigh. Unfortunately, he saw the captain's
point. Out of all of them on this mission, it would touch his life most
personally. He could see why the captain had placed him with the counselor.
Usually, of course, he was assigned to one of the rare married officers'
quarters with Dax.. On the odd occasion when he was on board but his wife
wasn't, Bashir and O'Brien normally shared a room. Bashir was friends with Reth
as well, but he worried she would approach him more in a professional capacity,
that she would not believe he was all right.

"Do you mind taking the top bunk?" Reth asked.

Bashir shook his head. He was a good foot taller than she was. He tossed his bag
up as the ship's com system came to life.

"All hands report to your stations. Senior officers report to the bridge."

"No time to settle in," Bashir observed.

"I think we've lost too much time already," Reth replied.

He arched an eyebrow, but nodded. Those Cardassians were probably running out of
time as they Quicksilver detached itself from its moors on Terok Nor.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

Reth nodded.

"No time like the present," she replied.

---
Terek Nor II
---

"You're cleared for departure, Quicksilver," Dax said, monitoring the other
ships docked at the station, in case someone had misunderstood departure
restrictions. The view screen in Ops showed the station's ship at its moorings
and the faint stars in the background. Dax wished vaguely for video as well as
audio, to see Sisko and Bashir before they left, but it was unnecessary to
communicate that way.

"Thanks, old man," Sisko said from the other side of the com line. "We'll see
you in a few days."

"Good luck, Benjamin," Dax replied, knowing he could hear the smile in her voice
even if he couldn't see her.

"I hope we won't need it," Sisko replied. "Quicksilver out."

Dax monitored the ship's progress as it detached itself from Terok Nor and
turned gently toward its destination. They used thrusters to clear the station's
perimeter, then jumped to impulse. Dax entered a command to track them as long
as possible, then looked up at Vaughn.

"They're clear," she reported.

"Good," the first officer replied, nodding at her. "Signal the Kimja that
they're cleared for departure to Bajor and find out when that Bolian transport
is going to be here."

Dax nodded, relaying the information to the Bajoran supply ship and then
informed Vauhgn on the Bolian transport's ETA. She kept one eye on the
Quicksilver's progress, even though the information could easily be observed by
the tactical officer on duty, and went back to her own work. Dax wrapped up the
loose ends she had to do in Ops, then got permission to head down to the science
lab.

There was no one else on duty in the lab today, with Shar and Klixa gone and her
two other officers off duty. Dax was glad; she wanted to be alone with her
thoughts – an interesting proposition for a joined Trill. But there was no one
left in Ops who would understand what she was experiencing. They were either
gone, reassigned to other posts, or on the Quicksilver, headed for the other
universe. Although she remembered none of the other Bashir's time here, she had
lived through it. None of her previous hosts had experienced anything like this,
so it was going to take some time to sort out how she felt.

She had been working for about half an hour when the computer interrupted her.

"Commander Dax, you have an incoming message from Bajor."

"Put it through to this terminal," Dax replied, pulling up a chair and sinking
into it. A moment later, Kira's face appeared on the screen and Dax felt her
expression relaxing into a smile.

"Nerys," she said with deep warmth and affection.

"Hi, Jadzia," Kira replied, smiling as well. "How are you?"

Dax's lips quirked upward in a wry smile.

"I take it you've heard about the missing Cardassian ship?" she inquired.

Kira snorted.

"Heard is an understatement," she replied. "It's all over the Federation news
service now, and I've received two calls already from First Minister Shakaar
demanding to know what Starfleet is planning on doing about it, and Legate Garak
himself even called me."

"Also to find out what Starfleet was doing about it?" Dax asked, arching an
eyebrow.

"And if I knew that one of the terraformers was Doctor Crell Moset's daughter,
and what new information I had, when the Quicksilver would arrive at the ship's
last known coordinates, if Captain Sisko was really leading the rescue effort,
why the Enterprise wasn't being called in – nevermind that she's thirty light
years away, at least – what the Bajoran government is going to do. Need I go
on?"

"I think I get the picture," Dax said dryly. "What did you tell him?"

"I gave him the information I could about Starfleet's response, then told him he
should contact the First Minister about his other questions."

Dax laughed and Kira gave a quick, mischievous grin.

"Nerys, you are evil," she said.

"I only know what Starfleet Command and the Federation Council has told me. You
probably know more than I do."

"At this point, I don't think anyone in this universe knows much," Dax replied.

Kira nodded, looking slightly exasperated. Dax understood. One thing Kira had
expected was that her new posting at the embassy on Bajor would be difficult.
She had worked there before being assigned to Terok Nor, and had had an idea of
what returning would be like. Nonetheless, Dax sympathized with her friend's
position. Leeta had been a politician. Dax knew all about the demands of such
employment.

"Did Julian go?" Kira asked.

"He did," Dax confirmed. "Benjamin thought he might be useful once they get into
the other universe. He may remember something."

Kira looked doubtful.

"How likely is that?" she asked.

Dax shrugged lightly.

"I have no idea," she replied. "But I know Julian. There are people in need of
his help. No matter how much he didn't want to go, he couldn't live with leaving
them out there alone."

Kira nodded.

"How are the girls?"

"Jules talked to them before leaving; he said they seem all right with it.
They're so young. They don't understand. Renzi was only a few weeks old when
this first happened. She has no idea what's going on."

"Do you need me to come to the station?" Kira asked seriously.

Dax smiled, shaking her head.

"Thanks, Nerys, but no. I know you can't get away right now, either. Not with
Shakaar and Garak calling you."

Kira nodded, then frowned, looking away.

"Speaking of which. . ." she sighed. "Someone is calling me. I'd better go. If you
talk to Sisko, tell him to speed this thing up. The politicians don't like being
uncertain, and when they're uncertain, they get demanding. And it comes back to
me."

Dax grinned.

"I'll let him know you want him to hurry," she promised.

"Take care, Jadzia. Walk with the Prophets."

"You, too."

Kira nodded and signed off. Dax sat in the chair for a few minutes, gazing
thoughtfully at the blank screen. She missed Kira, acutely sometimes, but at
least her friend was only a few hours away by shuttle. It was the life of a
Starfleet officer and Dax knew she was extremely lucky to be posted on the same
station as her husband and have her good friends on board or close by.

With a quiet sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and returned to her work. She
finished all she needed to do that day an hour early, so slipped out, knowing it
would be fine with Vaughn as it was always fine with Sisko. Dax made her way
down the promenade to the care center, where her daughters nearly bowled her
over in their enthusiasm to see her. Dax hugged them both, then swept Narye into
her arms, taking Renzia's hand.

"Wanna walk!" her youngest daughter protested.

"Okay, but you have to hold my hand. All right?"

"'Kay," the girl replied and Dax set her down, keeping a tight grip on the
toddler's hand. She led them through the promenade, back to their quarters,
Renzia skipping the whole way. Dax let her go ahead a little bit, because she
knew that Narye's slow pace would make her oldest child impatient quickly.

When they returned home, there was a message waiting for them. Dax shooed her
daughters away to play with their toys, then reviewed the message, repressing a
laugh so she wouldn't have to explain – yet – what the message was. Smiling, she
fished around for a PADD, then began downloading the recording of Bashir reading
one of the girls' favorite stories. It had probably only taken him five minutes
to make the recording, but the fact that he had taken the time warmed Dax's
heart. She let the information finish loading, and went to see what her two
indecisive young daughters might want for dinner that evening. "There's a ship
in orbit around the fourth planet," Shar said, evaluating the information on his
console's screen. "It's Cardassian."

Sisko frowned.

"Hail them," he said to the ensign at the helm. His command was immediately
followed by a beeping sound coming through their own com.

"They're hailing us, sir," the ensign reported.

"On screen," Sisko replied.

The image switched from the faint pinpricks of distant stars that were mostly
obscured by the star of the system they had just entered. In its place was a
male Cardassian, his dark eyes bright, a frown on his face.

"Captain Sisko, yes?" he asked.

"That's right," Sisko confirmed.

"I am Director Norrett from Empok Nor."

Sisko nodded, the recognition finally setting in. He'd only met Norrett once,
back when he had first been assigned to Terok Nor and the Cardassian had come
specifically to greet him. Norrett had been to the station since, of course, but
his work there was spent meeting with the supervisors of Terok Nor's ore
processing facility. Empok Nor was a super refinery, taking in a small
percentage of the ore from which dilithium could be extracted.

"We thought we could be of some assistance when you arrive here," Norrett
continued, "But you may be able to help us. We've located some escape pods from
the Glain on the surface of the fourth planet, but rescue efforts are going
slowly. It's cold down there, and we aren't entirely prepared for surface rescue
missions. We have three of the survivors on board now, but I think there are at
least four more down there."

Sisko nodded again.

"Helm, how long until we reach the fourth planet?"

"Ten minutes, sir," the ensign replied.

"We'll be there momentarily," Sisko said. "Do you have any medical staff on
board?"

"We brought one of our station's medics, but we have limited medical facilities
on this ship."

"We have a decent sickbay," Sisko said, silently thanking Bashir for insisting
it be upgraded and O'Brien and his team for doing the work. "Prepare your medic
and your patients to be transported here once we're in range. I have my chief
medical officer and one of my nurses on board. We'll put together surface rescue
teams as well."

"Agreed. Thank you, Captain."

"You're welcome. Sisko out."

The communication ended and Sisko stood, glancing over his shoulder to find
Bashir watching him.

"Get Nadir and go down to sickbay. I want you to be here when those Cardassians
are transported over. Then you'll be joining Reth and Nog on the surface."

Bashir nodded and headed toward a turbolift.

"O'Brien, Jaimson, you'll be with me. Ro and Benson, you'll go with Captain
Eddington. Shar, you and Klixa stay up here and try to figure out how to reopen
that anomaly. I don't think all the missing Cardassians are down there."
Although that would have been nice.

The Andorian and Betazoid science officers nodded, turning away. The others fell
into step behind Sisko, who tapped his combadge and began assigning surface
teams to the other officers on the ship, redirecting some of them to help in
sickbay. He and the bridge officers with him headed to the nearest transporter
bay, where his crew had already swung into action. There were security guards
waiting for them with thermal clothing and emergency med kits. Sisko said a
quiet thanks to whatever gods might be listening and accepted the equipment.
Bashir arrived in sickbay right behind Nurse Nadir, right before the Cardassian
wounded were beamed over. Accompanying them was a medic from the Empok Nor ship,
the Ledane. There were three survivors, just as Director Norrett had promised,
all of them with severe hypothermia and exposure.

"Let's get them on the beds," Bashir said, gesturing to Nadir and the medic, a
man named Celeck. Bashir's nurse, although a small woman, was much stronger than
she looked. With no help and not much effort, she lifted the body of an
unconscious Cardassian woman onto a biobed. "Celeck, what kind of treatment have
you given them?"

"New clothes, warmer atmosphere," the Cardassian replied. "I've also given them
each a one cc dose of thelomin to help bring their body temperature back up I'm
having trouble getting a reading, though."

"Right," Bashir said, snagging a tricorder. He scanned his patient, frowning,
then slapped a bio monitor on the Cardassian woman's forehead. Celeck hadn't
been kidding; the temperature barely registered, and it took a minute to do so.

"Give them each another two cc's thelomin and keep a close eye on their heart
rate. I don't need them going into cardiac arrest. Computer, increase the output
of the biobed temperatures by two degrees Celsius."

"Temperature increased," the computer replied as Bashir measured another dose of
medication and injected it carefully into the woman's neck Behind him, he heard
a slight moan and turned, but Celeck was shaking his head. The male patient he
was working on hadn't regained consciousness.

"Nadir, get some blankets from storage Not warm storage."

"Yes, Doctor," she replied and vanished, only to return a moment later, carrying
six blankets. She distributed two to Bashir and two to Celeck, keeping the
remaining two for herself.

"Check for frostbite first," he said.

"They all have it," Celeck replied "Didn't have the chance to do anything about
it."

"Hydrocelic on the affected areas."

The other two nodded. Nadir replicated the requested cream, handing them each a
small container, and Bashir set to work applying it carefully to the woman's
face, hands, and feet. He scanned the rest of her body, too, but only her face
and extremities had been affected, thankfully. She was lucky; as a Cardassian,
she had a very low tolerance to the cold.

He picked up a blanket when he was done and tucked it carefully around her, then
activated the biomonitor on the bed. It formed a dome around her midsection and
he set it to monitor her pulse rate and body temperature. The thelomin he had
given her would help increase her heartbeat, slowly enough to keep her from
going into arrest, but quickly enough to provide new blood to her frozen body.
That would help bring the temperature up, especially in her extremities. He
couldn't do any more immediately. Time and rest were now the best treatments he
could provide. And monitoring.

"Celeck, do you feel comfortable enough with Starfleet medical technology to
keep an eye on these three? Nadir and I need to get down to the surface."

The Cardassian nodded, obviously relieved he wasn't being asked to join the
rescue effort on the planet's frigid surface.

"I can muddle through," he replied.

"Good," Bashir said, then looked at Nadir. "Let's go suit up."

She nodded in agreement and they left the sickbay, heading for a transporter
room. One of Ro's security officers was waiting for them, suits at the ready,
and helped them get into their gear. Bashir activated his suit's com unit.

"Bashir to Sisko," he said.

There was a slight pause, then Sisko replied:

"Sisko here. Go head, Julian."

"Sir, Nadir and I are ready to beam down."

"Good. Nadir, you'll join my team. Julian, Ezri and Nog."

"Understood," the doctor and nurse said at the same time. The transporter
engineer gestured to Nadir to step up first, and a moment later, she had
vanished in a sparkle of blue light. Bashir stepped onto the pad and
materialized on the surface several seconds after watching the transporter room
fade from view. The first thing he saw was a glaring whiteness, then Reth's face
through her EV suit helmet, giving him a concerned look.

"All right, Julian?" she asked.

"It's bright," he replied.

"Reset your visual filters to fifty percent," the counselor advised and Bashir
followed her instructions. The glare lessened immediately and the landscape
jumped into sharp relief. The snow wasn't constant, as he had first imagined.
Instead, it was dusted across an icy plain whose surface was marked by jagged
black rocks, ranging from pebbles to boulders that were higher than Nog was
tall.

"Old lava plain, we think," Reth said. "Come on. Readings aren't great, but we
think we have someone to the northeast."

Bashir nodded and fell into step with the Trill and the Ferengi. He was grateful
for the EV suit providing him with a controlled atmosphere; a quick glance at
his environmental gauges told him the temperature was minus thirty degrees
Celsius. With the added wind-chill, it was minus thirty-seven. They needed to
find survivors soon.

A nearly destroyed escape pod was less than four hundred meters away, already
partly obscured by blowing snow. The impact had driven it partly into the ice as
well, and Bashir could see the damage immediately upon spotting the pod. There
were fractures in the hull, and burn marks where a fire had begun to take hold,
until the blowing snow had dowsed it. The three of them scrambled over the
uneven surface, rocks bouncing off their boots, until they reached the pod.

"One life sign, but faint," Bashir said.

Reth clambered onto the pod, moving quickly but carefully. Bashir was always
surprised by her willingness to face danger; it was one of her most remarkable
qualities. When he had first met her, he had pegged her as shy and reserved. He
couldn't have been more wrong. She was quiet, that was true, but not shy, and he
had never seen her back down from a challenge, even one so far removed from her
professional training.

Nog circled the other side of the pod and Bashir followed Reth, finding and
using hand holds easily. He pulled himself up beside her; she was sitting next
to the hatch, shaking her head.

"The controls are damaged. This ship barely has any power."

Nog came up from the other side.

"Let me have a look," he said, scrambling over to the circuitry. He tried keying
in a few commands, then gave a dissatisfied grunt as only a Ferengi could do.

"I'm going to use the manual release. We'll have to put some muscle into it," he
said.

"Understood," both others replied.

Nog broke the casing covering the manual release and pulled hard on the lever,
which fought him, damaged by the crash and stiffened by the cold. Straining, he
managed to pull it out and down, then scrambled back to where Reth and Bashir
were already struggling with the hatch. He joined the effort and the three of
them fought the cold metal, all of them giving inarticulate cries of effort. The
door groaned open, nearly flinging Reth aside when it gave, and Bashir grabbed
her in time to keep her from sliding down the icy metal surface to the rocky
ground.

"Thanks," she breathed, and he saw her quick smile through her darkened face
plate.

"Don't need anymore patients," he replied with a grin of his own, then eased
himself into the escape pod. There was a dead man strapped into one chair, his
neck broken, and a woman, still alive, strapped into the second chair. From the
marks on the safety belt, it looked as if she'd been trying to free herself
without any success.

"I need a knife!" Bashir called up and Reth dropped down beside him, reaching up
to take her emergency med kit from Nog. "Stay up there!" the doctor called to
Nog, who called down his affirmative reply. Reth produced a knife for him and
handed it over. Bashir cut the Cardassian woman's restraints, then handed the
knife back, taking a tricorder to scan her quickly.

"She'll be all right. Broken bones, internal bruising, hypothermia, but it looks
like the environmental systems were still functioning for awhile. Her
temperature isn't as low as the ones on board."

"Good," Reth said. "Do we need to move her?"

"I don't want to if we don't have to." He activated his com system. "Bashir to
transporter room one."

"This is Melik," came the reply.

"Can you get a lock on Ezri, Nog, me, and the two Cardassians in the escape
pod?"

"I'm only reading four life signs," Melik replied.

"One of the Cardassians is dead. I'll put my combadge on him."

Bashir removed his badge, placing it carefully on the dead Cardassian's chest.

"Stand by," Melik's distant voice said. "All right, I have you."

"Good," Bashir said. "Beam us directly to sickbay. Energize." In the end, they
rescued three survivors and four fatalities. Bashir put the dead in stasis and
treated the three new patients. When he was finished, he let Nadir go off duty
and arranged to transfer the patients to the Ledane so that they could be taken
to Empok Nor's infirmary. From there, once they had recovered, they could be
returned to Cardassia, to their families. The Ledane would take the dead as
well. Bashir scowled to himself. They needed to clear the stasis chambers for
the dead they might find in the other universe. He didn't want to think of that
possibility, but he did need to account for it.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Celeck had returned to his ship
and now Bashir was alone with his patients. In this moment of silence, he
suddenly missed Dax and their daughters acutely. He could picture them perfectly
in his mind, a benefit of his genetic enhancements. It helped to have that
recall when he was away, but he hated being away.

They're safe, he reminded himself. These Cardassians aren't.

His gaze darted to the stasis chambers and he sighed, rubbing his face. The com
interrupted his thoughts.

"Sisko to Bashir. Please report to the bridge."

Bashir tapped his badge, nodding to himself.

"On my way," he replied, putting aside his thoughts of his family and turning
his mind back to his duties.

---
Deep Space Nine
---

Milen Rask blinked slowly, moving nothing but his eyes as he scanned his tiny
escape pod. He held his breath for a moment, listening for anything out of the
ordinary, straining his sensitive Cardassian hearing. When he heard only the
wind outside and the faint hum of a dying environmental back up, he pushed
himself carefully from his seat, gripping the edge of the chair to keep himself
sitting up. The pod was at an angle, making it difficult not to fall against the
back of the seat. With a quiet grunt, he hauled himself from the seat and
crouched on the floor, hands splayed against the cold metal floor. He pulled
them up, blowing on them, and looked around.

"Computer," he whispered, hoping for a response. There was a slow, muted
response and Milen shook his head. The computer was failing and wouldn't help
him.

Slowly, he stood up, gauging his condition. He was cold, but not too bad. He had
been preparing to head to the cold lab to help Kelde Moset with some data entry.
He was wearing some thermal clothing, but didn't have gloves or head gear. He
shifted across the slanted floor to the emergency compartment, hoping it had
been properly stocked. If it wasn't, someone was going to answer, eventually, on
Cardassia Prime. And the ship's quartermaster, if he'd survived.

There were gloves, and a scarf and toque. Milen took them out, putting them on,
grateful for the extra protection. He found his tricorder, which was still
working, and he gave a sigh of relief.

The aliens had been in his pod and had dismissed him as being too close to death
to bother taking. At least, that's what Milen had gathered when they checked his
pulse, argued amongst themselves, and then left him. He had no idea what they
were saying. His computer system was too badly damaged to translate for him.

He was lucky.

The Bajoran blood that flowed in his veins made him more tolerant to the cold
that seeped into the escape pod than any full blooded Cardassian would be. And
he'd had the benefit of living on Bajor for his adolescent years. His parents
had moved from Cardassia Two to Bajor when his father had been offered a job in
the Bajoran ministry. They had lived near a monastery and Milen had been
schooled there, learning from the monks and vedeks. A life of meditation and
spiritual counseling had not appealed to him, but he had learned his lessons
well. He had slowed his heartbeat almost to a stop. His breathing had followed
suit. He had even lowered his body temperature enough to convince the aliens
that he was well on his way to dying. It would be too much of a tax on their
resources to rescue and revive him.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the faint Bajoran ridges he'd
inherited from his father. Then Milen shook his head. He had no idea where he
was or how many of his shipmates had survived. Maybe some of them had landed on
this planet. If so, he had to find them, if they hadn't been captured already.
Milen pulled toque down over his ears and tied the scarf around his nose and
mouth. He found a phaser and the stash of emergency rations, secreting them in
the pockets of his jacket. He forced the hatch open and shoved his tricorder
into a pocket. Then he pulled himself from the pod, gasping at the coldness of
the air. He half tumbled, half slid down the pod's exterior, landing on the
hard, rocky and icy surface with a grunt. Milen sat up, cursing under his
breath, and looked around.

The barrenness of the landscape made his heart ache. He had never seen anything
so bleak. Cardassian Two had been beautiful in its own right, in a stark,
Cardassian way. Bajor had been stunning, so lush and verdant, with artful water
features and gardens everywhere. The monastery where he had gone to school had
been carefully tended by the vedeks who took pride and joy in the beauty they
created.

This was nothing. An icy plain, the snow blowing over it contrasted by sharp
black rocks. There was nothing to give him any sense of direction. It seemed to
be just him and his tiny, broken pod.

Milen pulled his tricorder from his pocket and flipped it open, scanning the
area. He picked up himself, the dying computer from the escape pod and nothing
else.

Wait.

An extremely faint signal appeared on his tricorder then vanished. Milen pushed
himself to his knees, scanning again. The tricorder determined the cardinal
directions for him and picked up the signal coming from the south-southeast.
Milen clambered to his feet, almost losing his footing on the icy. Gritting his
teeth, he steadied himself and boosted the tricorder's sensitivity. The signal
came in a bit stronger and Milen set off in the direction from which it was
coming.

It was difficult going. If the ice wasn't impeding him, the rocks slowed him
down. Milen set the tricorder to alert him if he deviated from the course to the
signal and put it back in his pocket. With both hands free, he could scramble
over the rocks more easily and keep his balance on the snowy ice.

After more than half an hour, he saw another of the Glain's escape pods. Milen
picked up his pace, breathing hard in the freezing air. He could feel the ice on
his eyelids and brushed distractedly at them.

The pod was occupied by one dead woman and no one else. Milen's shoulders
slumped in defeat when he found her. He sat inside the pod for a moment, closing
his eyes. He pulled the scarf from his face and pushed the toque up off of his
right ear, fingering his Bajoran earring.

Prophets guide me, he thought, closing his eyes.

The wind whistled outside and Milen felt alone, as if he were the only person in
the universe. Then, a small tugging sprung up inside of him. His eyes snapped
open and he looked around hurriedly. There was a sudden impetus to keep going,
to keep searching. Of course, he thought, there could be others. But the urgent
nature surprised him.

The Prophets were guiding him.

Milen scrambled from the second disabled pod and stood outside, in the freezing
wind, trying to figure out where to go. The pulled tugged him southward and
Milen hurried over the rocks and ice, struggling to keep his footing. The
tricorder was picking up nothing, but there had to be something here for the
Prophets to reach to him, all this way from Bajor. He kept going, holding hard
to the hope that he wasn't being led astray.

He nearly fell into the small, rocky depression in which Kelde was huddled. They
both screamed, pulling away from each other, then stopped, staring at one
another. Milen steadied the beat of his heart and crouched down, almost sobbing
with relief.

"Kelde," he said. "Are you all right?"

"Rask!" she replied, struggling from her hiding place. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," they both said at the same time and then laughed because the only other
option was to cry. Milen helped her from her hollow and bundled her into a hug.
She clung to him as well, then pulled away, bouncing gently from one foot to
another.

"How did you find me?" she demanded.

"Prophets," he replied and he could see the incredulous look on her mostly
hidden face. "Really. I felt like I should head south. I think tripping over you
was luck, too."

"Luck," she replied, looking around. The howl of the wind reinforced the
loneliness of the ice plain.

"Well, as lucky as we'd be down here," he admitted.

"Have you found anyone else?" she asked.

"Just Myran, dead in an escape pod."

Kelde nodded.

"She was in the pod with me," she replied. "Did you see the aliens?"

"They came into my pod," he replied. "I had enough training at Moussan to make
them think I was dying. I didn't see them. Did you?"

Kelde nodded.

"They look like Vulcans, but they weren't. They looked angry, militaristic."

"Trisepat?" Milen asked.

"I don't think so, but I'm not sure."

"Angry, militaristic Vulcans. I doubt the Trisepat would tolerate any of their
members attacking Federation citizens in Federation space."

"In their space, either," Kelde said and Milen nodded.

They stood in the silence for a moment.

"We have to find shelter," she said, breaking the silence.

"I agree. But the systems on my pod are failing, if they haven't already."

"Mine are shot," Kelde replied, nodding. She looked around and Milen followed
her gaze. There was nothing around them, only the blankness of the plain and the
sky.

"Which way do your Prophets tell you to go?" she asked.

Milen shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied, chewing on his lower lip beneath the thick fabric of
his scarf. "North of here is your shuttle and mine. Let's keep going south."

"Have any weapons?" Kelde asked.

"Yes. You?"

"Just a hand phaser. I hope we don't run into those aliens."

"Me, too," Milen replied with feeling. "Let's go."

They fell into step, hunched over against the chill of the wind, heading south
for lack of any better direction in which to walk. They walked for over half an
hour before finding another pod, which Kelde considered immensely lucky. She had
no idea how large this frigid planet was, but it amazed her that at least three
of the pods had landed within several kilometers of one other on this icy plain.
But perhaps the aliens had been herding them here. The thought made her shudder
and Milen mistook it as a shiver from the cold.

"Come on, let's get out of the wind, at least," he said.

She didn't bother correcting him and helped him get the hatch open, scrambling
inside. It was noticeably warmer, which came as a shock. It was also completely
empty. No sign of its occupants remained and Kelde tried not to think of what
may have become of them.

The computer seemed to be working, which surprised her. Kelde hadn't held out
any hope of finding a pod in such good shape. She and Milen forced the hatch
shut again and then set themselves to finding what systems were functioning.

"Life support and environmental systems," Milen reported.

"I think I can get the communications array working again, too," Kelde replied
from her side of the tiny space. "But thrusters and engines are off line."

"I doubt we could get this thing out of the ice anyway," Milen commented. The
shuttle had hit hard enough to lodge itself in its own crater. Kelde nodded her
agreement.

"I'll send out a distress call," she said.

"No!" Milen said, surprising her. She turned quickly, her black hair obscuring
her vision for a moment before she raked it aside. The temperature in the pod
had allowed them to remove most of their thermal clothing, making movement
easier. And made her feel more Cardassian again.

"Why not?" she asked.

"If those aliens are still out there, they'll intercept it. I don't want to be
captured."

Kelde shook her head once, emphatically.

"Neither do I," she replied, her voice firm. She hadn't survived huddled in that
damn hollow and the trek across the ice to be snagged by their pursuers. "I can
put a message out on a Starfleet Emergency channel and encode it so nothing but
a Starfleet receiver can pick it up."

Milen gave her a wide-eyed, incredulous look.

"One of my brothers is a Starfleet Intelligence operative," she said and saw the
heightened surprise that flashed across Milen's face. Kelde had never told
anyone about Trintar's official status in Starfleet. Starfleet Intelligence
protected the identities of its operatives by giving them cover commissions and
imposing confidentiality agreements on their families. Kelde had never been
bothered by this; it protected her brother and he worked to protect the
Federation. It was only fair. Now, however, she knew she had to level with Milen
or he'd never agree to sending the message. She didn't want to argue with him
and she had no intentions of being stuck in this ice for the rest of her life.

"He showed me how to do this," she continued. "It won't get us caught. It will
get us some help."

For a moment, Milen looked as if he might disagree and Kelde was ready to send
the message without his cooperation. Then he relented, nodding.

"Good," Kelde said, turning back to her console. She heard Milen shift behind
her, going back to whatever work he had. She focused her attention on the
controls. She'd never had to do this in a real emergency, but Trintar had taught
her well. He'd taught all of his siblings the skills he'd acquired that he hoped
they would never need.

"Done," she said after a few minutes. Milen looked back at her and nodded. There
was a guarded expression on his face. Kelde understood; she wasn't sure what, if
anything, to hope for, either.

---
Deep Space Nine II
---

"Sir, I'm receiving a distress call."

Kira looked up sharply and saw Shar's bright eyes find hers. His antennae
twitched as he frowned.

"Origin?" she asked.

"I'm unable to establish that yet," he replied, shaking his head, his words
quick and sure. "But it's on a Starfleet emergency channel and its encrypted."

"See if you can decode it," Kira ordered, climbing up the three stairs that
separated the central portion of Ops from the rest. Shar's frown deepened, his
nimble fingers flying across the console.

"It's a standard Intelligence distress signal," he said and Kira raised her
eyebrows quickly. "It's set on a loop, asking for assistance from Federation
sources and providing a set of automatically generated coordinates. But it's–"

"What?" Kira demanded.

"I'm not sure," Shar replied. "I've never seen an emergency channel on this
frequency. It's only a few hertz off what Starfleet normally uses."

"There's probably some interference on the sender's end," the captain replied.
"Get to work on localizing it. Transfer your information to the Defiant and get
down there." She tapped her combadge. "Kira to Nog."

"Nog here. Go ahead."

"Nog, get an engineering team and prep the Defiant for departure. You have
twenty minutes. We're going after a distress signal."

"Aye, sir," the Ferengi replied.

"Kira to Bashir. Assemble a med team and be on the Defiant in fifteen minutes.
We have a distress call."

"From where?" Bashir asked.

"We don't know yet."

"Somewhere near the Telois-Celan system," Shar put in.

"Telois-Celan?" Kira asked. "What's out there?"

Shar shook his head, keying an enquiry into the computer.

"Nothing," he replied. "It's near the border. The Cardassians had some plans to
terraform it several years ago, but that fell through because of the war."

"Well, something's out there. You have fifteen minutes, Julian."

"Understood," the doctor replied and signed off.

Kira turned to Shar.

"Get whoever you need and get down there."

The Andorian nodded and hurried off. Tapping her combadge again, Kira headed up
toward her office to make last minute preparations. Her crew never failed to
impress her. In eighteen minutes, everyone was on board and preparing to leave.
Kira had let Bashir and his medical staff head straight to sickbay. Although
Bashir and Dax were usually on the bridge when the Defiant left the station, it
was by no means protocol to have all the senior staff there. And they were far
more useful setting up for potential patients than standing around during
departure. Aside from Bashir and Dax, the rest of her senior staff were here,
getting the ship underway. She watched from the captain's chair, which she still
felt somehow belonged to Sisko, as the station diminished.

"Shar, have you narrowed down the coordinates of that signal?" she asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Transmit them to the helm. Lieutenant Tenmei, engage at warp eight once you're
received them."

"Understood," Tenmei replied. A few moments later, the ship jumped to warp, the
stars blending into long, thin streaks.

"Shar, see if you can send a message back on the same frequency. Let whoever it
is know that we're coming. Nog, scan the area for any ships, any debris,
anything that might give us a hint as to who they are. Find out if there are any
Starfleet vessels in the area."

"Aye, sir," both the science officer and the engineer replied.

"I've managed to get a signal back on the same frequency," Shar reported.
"Hopefully their computer can receive it."

Kira nodded, hoping so as well. She'd been stranded before, and knew what it was
like to wonder if your message had been received by anyone. And who that anyone
might be.

"Sir, I'm detecting unusual energy signatures in that system," Shar said. Kira
frowned.

"What do you mean? A ship?"

"It doesn't look like it. They're radiation signatures, but nothing normal. It
looks like background radiation, but it's not quite what I would have expected
in a system like this."

"What kind of system are we looking at?" Kira asked.

"The name is three-three-one-ex-ef," Shar replied. "It's a type F star with
seven planets, all uninhabited."

"Scan for cloaked ships. If that's not the cause, keep scanning. Whatever it is
might be the reason we're getting the message on a nonstandard frequency."

"I'm reading no debris and no Starfleet ships, sir," Nog reported. "We're the
closest."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Kira replied. She frowned at the display screen on the
arm of her chair. Three-three-one-ex-ef was uncomfortably close to the
Cardassian border. At one point, it had been in Cardassian space, but had been
zoned out when the border had been redefined following the Dominion War.

"Has there been any Federation activity in that area?" Kira asked Nog, who
checked the database.

"No, sir," he said.

Kira pursed her lips unhappily. It seemed like there was no indication that
anyone was there, so why were they receiving a Starfleet distress signal? And
from whom?

"Any signs of cloaked ships?" she asked.

"It doesn't look like it," Shar replied. "But at this range, I can't be entirely
sure."

"Keep scanning," Kira repeated. This was going to be a long trip, despite the
fact that it wouldn't take very long to actually arrive. The uncertainty was
frustrating and she wished she had some inkling of what to expect, rather than
just the emptiness of the sensor readings. "Run the readings through the
database, too. See if you can come up with anything that resembles them."

"Understood," Shar replied. He set to work, frowning slightly, his Andorian
features intent. Kira tapped her combadge, calling Bashir, because she needed to
do something.

"Bashir here," the doctor's accented voice replied.

"How's it coming, Julian?" she asked.

"We're about as ready as we can be to accept whatever casualties we might have,"
Bashir answered.

"All right. Send Dax back up here if you're finished with her."

"She's on her way," Bashir said. Kira didn't really have anything for Ezri to do
here, not before they arrived, but she was not going to let her best tactical
officer sit around sickbay. She'd let Dax go help Bashir because she knew he'd
need it. But Kira needed her, too, here.

Dax arrived and Kira assigned her to take over scanning for vessels. The Trill
reported the same thing: no cloaked ships apparent, no debris, no other ships in
the area. Kira accepted the report with a nod and settled against the back of
the chair.

It was going to be a long trip, indeed. "I'm getting a reply!" Kelde replied.

Milen looked over at her quickly as she scrambled over to the console. He was
right behind her, crouching down off to the side to give her enough room to
work. Suddenly, a voice filled the tiny pod.

"This is the USS Defiant responding to the distress signal. We are on our way to
rendezvous with you. We will be there in approximately three hours. Please
respond if you can."

"Do you think we should?" Milen asked.

"I'll send a quick reply, and then I don't want to use the communications
anymore," she said, nodding.

"I'll get back to work on the sensors," Milen replied and returned to the
console he'd been working at. Kelde wondered if he would get them fixed. She
didn't doubt his abilities as a scientist, but they weren't engineers, at least,
not mechanical engineers.

She was much more frustrated than she wanted to admit. She was twenty years old,
Milen was twenty-two. They were trained as terraforming scientists, not soldiers
or spies or survivalists. They both had survival training, of course; being
terraformers, they couldn't have completed their program without taking it. But
the training hadn't been geared to surviving on an unknown planet without any
real gear and being pursued by unknown aliens. She had been trained to survive
in a hostile environment until a rescue crew comprised of her own team members
could find her.

She wish Trintar were there with her. He would know what to do. Kelde took a
deep breath. Her brother wasn't there. No one who could protect her was there.
This was down to the wire. She and Milen had to face this on their own or die.

Milen gave a grunt of surprise and a moment later, the power to the pod was cut.

"What happened?" Kelde demanded.

"There are aliens out there!" Milen hissed.

Kelde's heart rate picked up.

"Where?" she demanded.

"Five kilometers southwest. I'm keeping our systems off line."

"Give me a tricorder," she said, extending a hand. "I'll mask our bio
signatures."

Quickly, he handed her a tricorder and a phaser. Kelde put the phaser on her
knee and crouched over the tricorder, working quickly. She was almost finished
when the hum of a transporter beam cut through her concentration. Looking up
fast, she grabbed her phaser, the tricorder falling aside. Milen had his weapon
up and aimed as well, and they both fired when the alien had materialized. He
staggered backward and Milen fired again. The alien slumped against a wall of
the pod, then slowly to the floor.

Both terraformers looked at each other, eyes wide, then Milen let out a deep
breath.

"What is it?" he breathed.

Kelde only shook her head, her hands trembling. Slowly, she powered down her
phaser and put it aside. They both stayed frozen for a moment, then, when the
alien didn't move, they approached it carefully. Milen still had his phaser
trained on the alien man. Kelde suddenly felt like a fool for having put hers
aside. She retrieved it, powered it on again, and stood beside Milen, looking at
their would-be captor.

He was a harsh looking man dressed in severe silver and black clothing. His
expression, even unconscious, seemed displeased and menacing. He wore a uniform
Kelde had never seen: a silver shirt with padded, triangular shoulders, black
pants, and highly polished black boots.

"What do we do with him now?" she muttered, shaking her head.

"We could get to their ship," Milen suggested.

"Are you insane? They'll be more of them up there!"

"And our people, too," he pointed out.

"Are you suggesting we start an uprising against a group of well armed aliens
who are holding part of our crew hostage?"

Milen frowned.

"Okay, when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous."

Kelde nodded emphatically, then sighed and shook her head once.

"We need to do something," Milen insisted.

Kelde understood how he felt. It was unbelievably frustrating to be so
powerless.

"Let's start by tying him up," she suggested.

"Maybe we should kill him?" Milen asked.

"No," the woman replied. "Trintar told me you should always keep an enemy alive
if he's not posing a threat and might be of use. Maybe he can tell us
something." Personally, she doubted the alien would give them any information,
but he proved not to be useful, they could always shoot him. The thought made
her sick, but so did the thought of her crewmates being imprisoned by unknown
assailants.

"All right," Milen agreed. "Let's see what we can find to tie him with." Doctor
Shabeva Ellik was angry. It helped her ignore the pain in her skull, her neck,
her shoulders. It helped diminish the throbbing of the bruises she could feel on
her forehead. She was lucky, she supposed, that she was Cardassian; her
physiology made her stronger and more resistant to pain than many other humanoid
races. But perhaps being Cardassian had gotten her into this. Perhaps not. She
had no idea why they'd been attacked, but she took the assault personally. She
had been second in command of the terraforming mission, under Doctor Elies Krem.
It could be that she was now in charge; she had no idea. Not that she had much
to be in charge of at any rate. But the crew the aliens had captured or killed
were her people, and the idea that they were being mistreated offended her.

She paced her tiny cell, unwilling to sit and let her body stiffen. The aliens –
they looked like Vulcans but obviously weren't – were using some sort of mind
probe she'd never seen before. It hurt like hell when it was used, and caused
her body to react by bruising, especially on her forehead and face. But she was
a Cardassian, and had been taught mental discipline since childhood. Ellik was
certain the aliens weren't learning much from her or the other prisoners, and
she knew that her own training was allowing her body to absorb the impact of the
ill-treatment with less difficulty.

Since they were using these mind probes, they obviously weren't members of the
Trisepat. Ellik had been to the Gamma Quadrant. She had worked there for five
months, studying their terraforming techniques. She had met a great deal of
people from the Trisepat's member races and she knew enough about how their
legal system worked. They wouldn't need anything so primitive as these probes.
They'd simply have a kbsai or a Gri'Thethi read the mind of a prisoner, even
against that prisoner's will. And they certainly wouldn't have attacked a
Cardassian ship in Cardassian space. The Trisepat considered their territory to
be firmly in the Gamma Quadrant and, from what Ellik had learned of their
history, they did not have a tendency to go about attacking their allies.

The doctor stopped pacing and stretched her arms above her head, considering her
very limited options carefully. She did not know where they were, who had taken
them, or how many of her crew had been captured and how many had been killed.
She did know that the aliens they were dealing with her highly militaristic and
arrogant. That might help. Of course, being a Cardassian, she'd been accused of
arrogance before, but maybe that would also help. She wasn't certain. She was by
no means militaristic, although Cardassia had had its history of being so, but
that was before the Alliance, let alone before merging with the Federation.

Again, Ellik wondered if there were those who had managed to escape and were now
heading home to Cardassia, raising the alarm as they went. She worried the most
for the two youngest members of her team: Milen Rask and Kelde Moset. Milen was
twenty-two, Kelde twenty. This kind of situation was not at all inside their
experience.

Thinking hard, Ellik lay down on the bare floor, on the back, closing her eyes.
The guards came in pairs to deliver food, only once so far, and to bring her for
their special brand of questioning. She had noticed, however, that when they had
come to feed her, only one of them was bearing a weapon. Maybe she could use
that. She had been trained to defend herself physically, although she'd let her
training wane in the past few years. But Ellik had studied some martial arts in
the Trisepat, under the supervision of a very competent Gri'Thethi woman. If
there was a chance she could just get to a weapon. Briefly, she wished for a
Gri'Thethi woman's presence – they were the most skilled fighters in the
Trisepat. Even a Klingon would be welcome, she realized. Then she dismissed that
thought; it was useless. All she had was herself and her lapsed training. The
worst that could happen is that she could die. At least she would die trying to
help her crew and herself. It might be a better option than the unknown fate
facing her now, anyway.

---
Terek Nor to Deep Space Nine
---

"Computer, activate the EMH," Bashir instructed after signing off with Sisko.
The image of a Bolian woman appeared in front of him, her bright blue eyes the
same hue as her skin.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," she said with pleasant
efficiency.

"Keep an eye on these Cardassians until we're ready to transfer them," he
replied. "I'll be on the bridge. Here's the summary of their conditions."

He handed the hologram a PADD and it looked over the information, nodding. Celec
and Nadir were on the Cardassian vessel, preparing the small infirmary to
receive the patients who would then be going to Empok Nor for continued
treatment.

Bashir left the sickbay, heading for the nearest turbolift, and rode up to the
bridge. The rest of the senior staff were already there, even Reth, whose
services wouldn't be needed for the Cardassians presently in sickbay. They were
unconscious or sleeping, and would have psychological care on hand when they
reached Empok Nor. The Cardassians taken into the other universe, however, would
desperately need the adept counselor's assistance.

"Shar and Klixa believe they've found a way to reopen the portal into the other
universe," Sisko informed Bashir without preamble.

The doctor nodded.

"Good," he said. "How?"

"The tear is still there, barely," Shar informed him, swiveling around in his
chair to face Bashir. "Using the information Captain Sisko and Commander Dax
gathered on the last one, I think we can hit it with a graviton shear from our
deflector dish."

"Won't that attracted it toward us?" Bashir asked.

Shar shook his yellow-haired head.

"We're going to reverse polarity on our shear," he replied. "The point is to
drive the edges of the tear further from each other. It might be a bumpy ride,
though."

Sisko looked over at O'Brien.

"Make sure those inertial dampers are working, and shields are at one hundred
percent efficiency. We don't need to be crossing over in pieces."

"Understood," O'Brien replied.

The captain turned back to his two science officers.

"How long?" he asked.

"It will take about ten minutes to set up the shear," Shar reported. "I don't
know how long it will take to open the fissure wide enough to travel through
it."

"Get on it," Sisko ordered, then turned back to the doctor. "You have ten
minutes to get those Cardassians onto the Ledane and get Nadir back here."

Bashir nodded and hurried out. It took eight minutes to get the patients
transported securely and set up in the small infirmary. He and Nadir returned to
the ship and he assigned her to prep sickbay and took a med kit from his stores
and headed back to the bridge. He had no idea what to expect for the crossing,
and wanted to be on hand in case anything went foul.

"Ready to initiate the shear," Shar reported.

"Do it," Sisko replied. Bashir noted that the captain sounded even more terse in
his orders than normal. He felt a strange tension inside himself, too. He had no
idea what was waiting for them once they crossed – these Romulans were a
complete unknown to them. No race like them existed in this universe. And,
Bashir had to admit to himself, he was in no way prepared to meet his alternate
self should the situation arise. He knew the odds were slim, but the idea stayed
with him nonetheless.

"Initiating shear," Shar confirmed. "The deflector dish is charging. Five
seconds. . . four. . . three. . . two. . . shear in progress."

"Mister O'Brien, activate our cloak," Sisko said. The engineer nodded and Bashir
heard the nearly inaudible hum as the cloaking technology the Federation had
been given by the Trisepat came on line. Other than the small sound which no one
else could hear, there was no indication that they were now invisible to
sensors.

Bashir kept himself from drumming his fingers impatiently on the med kit and
kept his breathing slow and steady.

"The anomaly is expanding," Shar said. "I'm starting to get telemetry from the
other side. The system appears to the same. . . But there's debris from what appears
to be a Cardassian science ship in orbit of the fourth planet."

Bashir nodded once, to himself. The same planet from which they had picked up
survivors here.

"Scanning for other vessels. I'm not picking anything up," the Andorian said.

"How long until we can pass through?" Sisko asked.

"Forty seconds," Shar replied.

"Take us in," Sisko told Tenmei, who nodded. Bashir could feel the tension
cutting through the room like a knife. It made his skin prickle as the hairs on
the back of his neck stood up.

"Taking us in," Tenmei said and the ship began to move, slowly, toward the
invisible but widening gap. "Two million kilometers and closing."

Bashir strained for some hint of the anomaly on the view screen, but there was
nothing to see. The discrepancy came through as sensor readings, nothing else.
He had expected to see stars from the other side, or perhaps a planet. Instead,
it was simply blackness.

"One million kilometers," Tenmei reported.

"It's wide enough to pass through now," Shar reported. "Still no indication of
ships on the other side."

"Two hundred thousand kilometers."

Bashir felt the first hint of unsteadiness in their path. It seemed strange to
him; from what he had recorded of his return journey from the other universe, it
had been nothing more than stepping over a threshold, and feeling the vague tug
on the other side, where the other Bashir had crossed over. But perhaps this was
because his other self wasn't right on the other side.

"Taking us in," Tenmei said, expertly piloting the Quicksilver into the anomaly.
The ride didn't become any bumpier.

"Steady," Sisko said.

"We'll emerge in fifteen seconds," the pilot report.

Sisko nodded, then turned sharply at a sharp gasp from Shar. Bashir heard it as
well, his hands tightening on his med kit as he hurried over to the Andorian.

"Shar," he said, crouching down next to the science officer. "Shar."

The Andorian's normally steady hands were shaking and his blue skin pale.

"Shar?" Bashir repeated.

Shar looked at Bashir as if from a long distance. The stunned grief Bashir saw
in the other man's eyes made his heart skip a beat.

"Thriss is– dead?" Shar whispered.

"What?" Bashir asked, then shook his head emphatically. "No, no, Shar, Thriss
isn't dead. She's back on Terok Nor. She's one of the healthiest Andorians I've
ever met."

"But–" Shar started, then frowned, confusion sweeping over his features. "I can
remember her dying. . ."

Bashir understood suddenly. He put a hand on Shar's arm, squeezing it gently,
and the touch seemed to bring the Andorian back.

"No, you don't remember that," he said firmly. "The Shar over here does."

For a moment, Shar didn't seem like he understood, then he nodded slowly. Bashir
flipped the kit open and pulled out a neural inhibitor. He activated it and
placed it on Shar's neck, just at his hairline.

"This should help," Bashir said. "This happened to me when I was in this
universe. I had all of the other Bashir's memories, but mine starting leaking
through. Better?" he asked.

Shar hesitated, then nodded. He began to relax.

"Thriss is alive," Bashir assured Shar. "Remember?"

Shar nodded again, this time more quickly. Bashir glanced up at Sisko, gave a
curt nod, then stood. Reth crossed the bridge and Bashir shifted out of the way
for her, allowing her the space to crouch down and talk to Shar.

"If anyone else starts to have memories that aren't theirs, I want you to let
Julian know right away," the captain ordered. He turned back to the doctor.
"Make sure you have enough of those on hand." Sisko paused. "And make sure you
keep a close eye on yourself," he ordered.

Bashir nodded.

"I'll need to get down to sickbay and replicate some more," he said.

"Do it. Talk to the rest of the crew, too. Let them know what they might
expect."

"Understood," Bashir said, snapping the med kit shut.

"Report back as soon as possible."

Bashir nodded, then headed for the turbolift, calling Nadir on the way and
requesting that she meet him in sickbay. He'd need to get Reth's assistance on
this, but she needed to help Shar at the moment. There probably wouldn't be much
he could tell her that she wouldn't figure out from speaking to Shar or having
read Bashir's log entries after he had returned.

The turbolift had almost reach his level when Dax's death hit him. Bashir
stopped breathing for a moment, wild panic surging through him. He dropped the
med kit, his hands scrabbling against the wall of the turbolift. He could see
her, so clearly, on the biobed, pale and lifeless. She had been murdered, in the
Bajoran shrine on the station. He had saved the symbiont but not her.

Now their daughters would have no mother.

Bashir screwed his eyes shut. No, that was wrong. These weren't his memories.

He had failed her. She had been attacked, left alone in the Bajoran shrine, had
almost died alone. And he'd never had the chance to set things right and then
Worf had come along. . .

He gave a choked sob, his legs giving out. He gritted his teeth against the
tears that stung his eyes and managed to tap his combadge. His body felt numb
with grief.

"Bashir to Nadir," he gasped.

"This is Nadir. What is it, Julian?"

"Help," he managed. "I need help."

"I'm on my way."

It seemed to take her an eternity to reach him. Bashir fought himself, dredging
up the memories of the years after the other Jadzia Dax had died. His wife had
been promoted to commander. Their infant daughter had learned to crawl, then to
walk and speak. They had adopted Narye. Dax had been the first of the two of
them to hold the orphaned baby and Bashir had known that she had loved Narye
from that first instant.

Suddenly, something cold and metal was on his neck and the memories that weren't
his were gone. With a deep, rasping gasp, Bashir sat up and opened his eyes to
find Nadir crouched over him. He blinked, understanding now what Shar must have
been feeling. Bashir never wanted to experience that again.

"Come on," Nadir said, slipping an arm under his shoulders and helped him stand.
Once on his feet, Bashir realized how much he was shaking. "What was it?"

"The other Jadzia died," he said, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Over
here."

Nadir winced, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"It wasn't my wife," Bashir said, more to reassure himself than her. "Anything
strange for you?"

"Not yet," she assured him. "Let's get you to sickbay. We don't need you as a
casualty."

Bashir took another deep breath, feeling more himself again. The memories of the
other Dax's death had receded and his own memories, the true memories, had
returned. Jadzia Dax was very much still alive and probably much safer on Terok
Nor than he was at this point on the Quicksilver.

He accompanied Nadir to sickbay, the neural inhibitor humming away on his neck,
keeping the other Bashir out of his head. He and his nurse equipped all the med
kits with neural inhibitors, replicating more, one for each member of the crew.
Bashir really hoped it wouldn't be necessary. When he saw the faintly confused
look in the nurse's eyes, he quickly put one of the tiny instruments on her
neck. Her long black hair covered it neatly, and she thanked him. Inwardly,
Bashir sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he'd imagined.

He left her to run the sickbay while he returned to the bridge, hoping no one
else there would need his help. Ellik lay in the near darkness, feigning
unconsciousness when the two guards came in. One hovered in the doorway, phaser
trained on her. The other one, the luckless one, was holding a tray with a very
minimal amount of food and water. As he set it down, Ellik launched herself up,
leaping at him and grabbing him, shoving him back toward his compatriot. He died
in her arms when the other guard fired an instinctive shot. Ellik pushed him
away, into the other man, and grabbed the phaser as the second guard stumbled.
She aimed and fired before he hit the ground, then dragged him into the cell,
allowing the door to close most of the way, propping the small tray between it
and the wall. Enough light spilled in to allow her to strip the smaller guard
and take his clothing, then she stood in the middle of the cell, feeling stupid.

What had that gotten her? A weapon, yes, and one of the alien uniforms, but she
wasn't about to be mistaken for one of them and they weren't considerate enough
to be wearing helmets that would have disguised her face. She swore under her
breath, then regained her composure.

"Computer?" she whispered, working on what she realized might be a faulty
assumption. Just because everyone she knew spoke to their ship's computer
doesn't mean these idiots did.

"Acknowledged," a harsh male voice replied. Ellik raised her eyebrows.
Beautiful.

"Is this ship equipped with access tunnels for engineering purposes?"

"Affirmative."

"Give me the location of the nearest one."

"Section f-eight."

"Distance," Ellik said.

"Ten meters."

She frowned to herself. This was a particularly uncooperative computer.

"In which direction?" she asked.

"Stern."

That left her two choices when she slipped into the corridor, phaser at the
ready. There didn't seem to be anyone else for the moment. Since Ellik had no
idea which way was stern, she guessed, relying heavily on intuition and was
rewarded.

At least something's gone right, she thought as she ducked into the poorly lit,
cramped access tunnel.

"Now, computer, where's the nearest communications relay?"

It was ten decks up, and several sections over, which required a lot of climbing
and clambering through the dim tunnels. Ellik left her stolen combadge at a
random point, tossing it as far down a tube as she could, picking one she'd not
entered. Let them stew on that for awhile, once they realized their guards were
bested. She didn't delude herself; two guards wasn't much of a victory. It was
still her against most of the ship.

"Computer, how many Cardassians are on board?" she hissed as she pulled herself
up to the communications relay.

"There are ten Cardassians on board."

"Names?"

"That information is not available."

Ellik nodded to herself. She hadn't thought so. She sat down in front of the
relay and examined it for a moment, grateful that she'd taken a range of
engineering courses. Terraforming was her first love, but she'd shown a high
aptitude for communications while in school as well, and her instructors had
encouraged her to learn what she could. Her father had wanted her to follow
through with communications engineering and stay on Cardassia Prime, but Ellik
hadn't followed the dutiful daughter path and had gone her own way instead. She
wondered what he would think of her now, using her communications training to
attempt to save her crew.

She got to work, mostly guessing, hoping to all the hells anyone had ever
imagined that she was doing this properly. Rising through the ranks of science
to become the second-in-command on a terraforming mission had required that she
learn many things she'd never thought she'd know, including how to program an
encrypted Cardassian frequency. Ellik opened the secure channel and hissed:

"This is Doctor Ellik. Does anyone read me?"

There was no response and Ellik cursed silently. She adjusted some of the
settings and repeated her message, wondering if there was anyone even out there,
wishing she knew how to encrypt on secure Starfleet channels as well. It was
just as likely a Starfleet ship was hanging around these parts as it was that
there was a Cardassian ship out there.

So, not too likely.

"Doctor Ellik!" a response came back suddenly and Ellik winced at how loud it
was. Then she recognized the voice and her heart skipped a beat, speeding up
significantly when it resumed its operation.

"Oh, thank any gods listening, Kelde."

"Doctor Ellik, where are you?" the young woman's disembodied voice asked, filled
with elation and trepidation.

"On the damn alien ship. Where are you?"

"On the surface of some planet, in an escape pod. Milen's here with me."

Ellik let out a deep, silent sigh of relief.

"Good," she said. "Are you all right?"

"We're in danger of freezing to death if the pod's systems fail, but we're not
hurt."

"Did you find anyone else?"

"No. Are you in control of the ship?"

"Hardly," Ellik replied. "I'm hiding in an access way and managed to commandeer
a communications relay station to contact you. Can you get the coordinates from
your pod and give them to me? If I can find a transporter room, or a relay, I
want to beam you up here."

"What good would that do?"

Even the odds, but not enough, Ellik thought. Actually, they were safer down
there.

"Nevermind," she said, realizing there was no sense getting them killed, too.
"You need to get a distress signal out. I can talk you through encrypting an
emergency Cardassian frequency."

"I've already sent out a distress signal on an encrypted Starfleet frequency,"
Kelde replied and

Ellik's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The girl had said that so
matter-of-factly, but how had she learned to do that? "Someone's coming to help
us," Kelde continued. "Some ship called the Defiant from Deep Space Nine."

Ellik had never heard of that station nor that ship, but it didn't matter. Help
was on the way.

"Good. Stay put and out of sight. Do you have any weapons?"

"Yes," Kelde replied.

"Keep them ready. I'm going to see if I can get anyone else out of the cells
they've been keeping us in."

"Okay," Kelde said, but sounded uncertain. Ellik didn't blame her. She was over
twice Kelde's age and still felt overwhelmed and afraid. She couldn't imagine
what it must be like for the young woman and man who were facing life
threatening danger for the first time.

She signed off and asked the computer to give her instructions on getting
through the tunnels to the area where the Cardassians were being held. It wasn't
much of a plan, but it was better than doing nothing, and she had no idea when
this Defiant ship was supposed to reach them. This was her team; at very least,
she owed them the effort. Julian Bashir had noticed the first sign of a headache
and had taken care of it immediately, although it had been more of a mild
distraction than real pain. He suspected that it was the uncertainty of what
they were heading into that was bothering him, because some of the other crew
members seemed somewhat distracted.

He couldn't really blame them. No one had figured out where the distress call
was coming from specifically. Shar had narrowed it down to the fourth planet in
an uninhabited system, but there was no evidence of ships in that area,
including debris, and no response to their continued hails on the emergency
channel. Scans for cloaked ships were turning up nothing, which Bashir hoped was
a sign that nothing was out there. He didn't want to entertain the idea that
they might be heading into an ambush.

He was in the tiny sickbay, reviewing some of the scans Shar had taken of the
area, for lack of anything else to do. They still had half an hour before
arriving, and there was only so much prep work he could do and so much waiting
stress he would put up with.

One of the routine scans showed anomalous radiation signatures that made Bashir
stop and do a double take as he held his breath. He stared at the PADD,
rereading the section carefully, then remembered to exhale as he skipped to
Shar's report about the slight variation in the channel frequency. Bashir fished
around hurriedly for a blank PADD, then downloaded the distress call information
and compared it to the information on the background radiation.

He didn't even pause to tell Nadir where he was going, nor did he bother to call
Kira to warn her he was coming up. The turbolift doors hissed open and Bashir
strode out onto the bridge, the urgency of his footfalls catching the captain's
attention, and that of everyone else on the bridge. He held up the two padds, as
if for validation of his entrance.

"I know why the emergency channel frequency was off," he said. "And what those
anomalous radiation readings are. There's a tear in the space-time continuum,
between our universe and that alternate universe."

Kira stared at him, eyes widening, dismay crossing her sharp features. The rest
of them were staring at him, too, with varying degrees of incomprehension or
apprehension.

"Not that one," Bashir said and saw the flicker of relief on his captain's face.
"The one I went to and don't remember. The radiation signatures are the same as
those Dax and Sisko recorded four years ago, when the anomaly was orbiting
Bajor."

Kira blinked, then seemed to regain full composure, something that Bashir
envied.

"We collapsed that anomaly," she said. "How could it have reopened?"

"I don't think it's the same one," Bashir replied. "I think someone opened this
one, either deliberately or accidentally. Maybe from the other side, and came
through without meaning to. That's why the distress call we picked up on the
station was slightly off frequency. They wouldn't use exactly the same
frequency."

Kira nodded curtly and spun to Nog, who was watching Bashir with open surprise.

"Lieutenant, take us to warp nine," she ordered. "I think we need to find these
people before anyone else comes snooping around." "Sir," a lieutenant said and
Commander Reyla looked up from his work, nodding at the younger man. "I'm
getting communications activity on the surface."

Reyla frowned, leaning forward in his chair, knitting his Romulan brow.

"I thought we'd captured all the survivors on the surface," he said, addressing
this statement to Sub-Commander Vepil, who nodded back to him.

"So did we," she assured him.

"Obviously, you did not," he pointed out, then turned back to Lieutenant Sren.
"Can you localize it?"

"Attempting to, sir," the lieutenant replied, once again focused on his console.
"I believe the communication was encrypted and the discrepancy in frequencies
between our universe and theirs is making it difficult to pinpoint it."

"Keep trying," Reyla ordered, then turned back to Vepil. "Take a team down to
the surface to pick up our errant friends once Sren gives you the coordinates.
And send someone to check on our prisoners. Someone sent that message and I'd
like to know who."

---
Deep Space Nine III
---

"I'm getting communication," Tenmei reported, glancing over her shoulder at
Sisko as the turbolift doors opened to admit Doctor Bashir onto the bridge. She
turned back again as Sisko pushed himself from the captain's chair, crossing the
tiny bridge to stand beside the lieutenant. "It's on a secure Cardassian
channel," Tenmei continued, frowning slightly. "One side is coming from the
fourth planet and the other– There's definitely a cloaked ship out there."

"I'm picking up a disturbance," O'Brien confirmed and Sisko cast a glance at his
chief engineer. "Fluctuations from a warp engine, I think. I'm trying to
pinpoint it. I've never seen a cloaked ship emit this kind of signature before.
It's a dead giveaway that it's there."

"You've never seen a cloaked Romulan ship before," Bashir replied and O'Brien
looked up.

"How'd you know it's that?" he asked.

"Guessing," Bashir replied, shaking his head. "Maybe they don't have the benefit
of Trisepat cloaks."

"If they did, they wouldn't be showing up on our sensors," O'Brien replied.

"Commander, can you tell how many there are?" Sisko asked.

"Looks like just one sir, unless it's two small ships, but with a warp signature
that strong, I doubt it. Got it."

"On screen," Sisko said and was presented by a view of black space.

"Not visible to us, though," O'Brien said.

"I doubt these Romulans would be communicating with their people on the surface
by secure Cardassian channels," Sisko said, then glanced around the bridge. On
the basis that Klixa was Betazoid and therefore knew a lot about telepathy,
Sisko decided she'd make the best impromptu bridge medic at the moment. "Julian,
tell Klixa how to operate those neural inhibitors, then take Ezri and Nadir down
to the surface. Tenmei, get the coordinates for that communication and give them
to transporter room one. Michael, I want you to go with them. Ro, pick one of
your people to go with the captain, but you're staying here."

Everyone nodded curtly and Ro rose from her station to join Eddington in getting
the team prepare. Reth followed her, calling Nadir over the com, and Bashir
approached the auburn-haired Betazoid, giving her a ten-second run down on using
the neural inhibitors before pushing the med kit into her hands.

"Julian! Let's go!" Ro snapped and he glanced up to see her holding the door
open. He hurried over and joined the small crowd.

"Good luck," Sisko said as the doors hissed shut. "I've got it, sir," Sren said
and Reyal nodded.

"Transmit the coordinates to transporter control. Reyal to Vepil. Get down
there." "I'm picking up communication from the surface!" Nog said. "I don't
recognize the frequency. It's secured."

"Ezri, I need coordinates for it. Whoever's transmitting might be the ones in
trouble," Kira said.

"I'm on it," Dax replied, nodding, her fingers dancing over her controls.
"Captain, there's a slight distortion in subspace. It looks like a cloaked
Romulan ship."

"Romulans!" Kira barked. She should have known. "Nog, is the frequency Romulan?"

"I don't think so, sir," Nog replied, shaking his head. "We're up-to-date on the
frequencies of all the secure Romulan channels. It might be people from that
other universe."

"If there's a cloaked Romulan ship here, it gives me a pretty good idea of who
opened that rift," Kira growled. "Julian, Ro, you're going down there. Ezri,
you, too, once you get me those coordinates. If someone not Romulan is on that
planet, they're definitely going to need us. Nog, get me a fix on that Romulan
ship."

"Working on it, sir," the engineer replied.

"I just sent the coordinates to the transporter room. It's coming from the same
place our distress signal came from," Dax reported.

"You have four minutes until we arrive. Go suit up. It's damn cold down there.
And be careful."

The three officers nodded as they made their way from the bridge. Bashir could
find no difference between the surface of this alternate planet and the one in
his universe. He, Captain Eddington, Ezri Reth, Amia Nadir and Tyler Benson, a
young human security officer, materialized on a wind swept plain and immediately
adjusted the settings on their visors. Bashir looked around, pulling out his
tricorder, scanning the area. He wasn't picking up anything now, and checked the
coordinates in his tricorder against the coordinates Shar had determined from
the distress call.

"This way," Eddington said, pointing south. "Everyone, weapons out and fan out.
Let's go."

The others drew their phasers and tricorders and spread out, boots crunching
across the icy snow. It was a sound that made Bashir's skin crawl. He wondered
what Eddington thought of this: pulled away from vacation on Bajor and sent to
another universe. The captain, after having commanded his own ship very
successfully for several years, had been granted a high ranking Starfleet
security position on Betazed. Bashir knew that Admiral Dukat was angling to get
Eddington assigned to his sector and that the human would be more than happy to
go back. Bajor had a way of captivating its visitors.

A shout from Reth made Bashir look over and he expected to see an escape pod or
shuttle, but, instead, three figures were materializing on the surface.

"Cover!" Eddington yelled and Bashir dropped behind the nearest boulder, less
than a meter to his right. He poked his head up, phaser aimed, and was presented
with the sight of three aliens who were obviously Romulans. Bashir could see
their faces through the faceplates of their silver EV suits. Eddington fired
first, catching a young looking man and knocking him back into the snow. One of
the other hit her arm and appeared to be yelling something as she took cover. A
shot returned to them, narrowly avoiding Reth, who threw herself into the snow.
She sat up again quickly and fired blindly before ducking out of sight again.

"Julian, go around them to the right. Benson, to the left. Stay low,"
Eddington's voice said over the com.

"Understood," both the doctor and the security officer replied. Bashir crouched
and moved along the icy plain, trying to stay behind the black boulders as much
as he could. He threw himself down on the ground when he heard the hum of a
transporter beam settling more Romulans on the surface to join the fire fight
with the Starfleet officers. He muttered a colourful curse in Trill.

"I heard that," Reth said.

"Keep moving," Eddington added.

Bashir leaned against a boulder, arching his head back and peered up. He saw six
more Romulans had joined the two still standing, making eight against five.
Eddington evened the odds by one and dodged a very close shot which left
Bashir's heart pounding too fast. He kept going.

Shit, shit, shit, he thought as he caught sight of a half-buried escape pod.

"Captain, I see the pod!" he said into the com, confident that only the
Starfleet officers could hear him.

"How far?" Eddington demanded and Bashir could just see him crouched behind his
sheltering boulder.

"Two hundred meters, give or take," Bashir replied.

"Can you get to it?"

"They'll see me."

"We'll cover you," Eddington said and darted up to fire again. Bashir started to
run, diving behind the nearest boulder which barely covered him, holding back a
startled cry when chips of rock flew off above him and clattered across his
helmet.

"Eddington to Quicksilver! We've located an escape pod and we could really use
some reinforcements."

"We have our own problems up here, Mister Eddington!" Sisko's voice returned.
"And. . ." Bashir felt his blood run cold when the captain's voice died away.

"And what, dammit, Benjamin!" Eddington hollered.

"Another Starfleet ship, it seems," Sisko said slowly.

"What?" Eddington yelled, but it was ignored. "Dammit," he swore over the com.
"Julian, keep going."

"Uh," Bashir said as he turned away to move again, only to notice another group
of people being deposited, weapons drawn, on the surface. "I think we have more
company." "There!" Tenmei yelled, pointing at the view screen as a ship
decloaked momentarily.

Sisko stared, frozen for a fraction of a second, looking at the utterly
unfamiliar green ship. It reminded him of a giant predatory bird.

"By the Prophets," Ro muttered and Sisko yanked himself back to reality.

"Why did they decloak?" O'Brien asked, his voice tinged with disapproval.

"They beamed three people to the surface," Klixa reported.

"Decloaking to beam?" Sisko asked.

"The Klingons used to have to do it," O'Brien replied, sounding as if he had
only remembered that. It seemed like such a primitive technology now that the
Trisepat had shared their cloaking techniques with the Federation.

"Scan for Cardassians!" Sisko snapped and Shar's fingers flew over his console.

"Eleven of them," he said. "And I'm reading weapons fire on board."

"Putting up a fight, are they?" Sisko asked. "Take us in closer, Lieutenant
Tenmei. Try hailing them."

"Channel open sir," Klixa reported as Tenmei began piloting the ship toward the
Romulan vessel, which was now fading out of view.

"This is Captain Benjamin Sisko of the United Federation of Planets," Sisko
said. "I know you have kidnapped Cardassians on board. Drop your cloak and
return the prisoners to us."

There was no reply but Klixa gave a short, sharp laugh. Sisko turned to her, an
eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"You've got their attention, Captain," she said. "You scared the hell out of
them. They have no idea where we are."

"Let's keep it that way, shall we?"

"I'm picking up another ship out there, sir," O'Brien said. "It's giving off the
same distortion as that Romulan ship."

"Back up?"

"I can't tell. I'm trying to trace its flight plan."

"Eddington to Quicksilver! We've located an escape pod and we could really use
some reinforcements."

"We have our own problems up here, Mister Eddington!" Sisko's snapped back, but
gestured at Ro to send two more security officers.

An energy beam shot through space suddenly and Sisko braced instantly, shocked
when he realized the weapons fire had hit the cloaked Romulan ship. The cloak on
the other ship began to shimmer and dissolve and Sisko saw it sailing toward the
Romulan vessel, firing repeatedly. The Romulan ship took the defensive and began
firing back.

"And. . ."

"And what, dammit, Benjamin!" Eddington hollered.

"Another Starfleet ship, it seems," Sisko said slowly.

"What?" Eddington hollered but Sisko ignored him, knowing the additional
security was on the way.

"Miles, can you identify that ship?" he demanded.

"I think it's the Defiant, sir," the engineer replied.

"The Defiant? How did it get here?"

"Not our Defiant," O'Brien said.

"Sir, the Romulans just beamed down more people. And so did that other– the
Defiant," Shar reported.

"Drop our cloak. Take us in. Let's give our compatriots a hand, shall we?"
Bashir barely had time to register the fact that three more Starfleet officers
had materialized ten meters away from him before more Romulans and then two more
security officers were deposited on the surface. The fire fight was in earnest
now and the doctor had dropped behind a larger boulder, trying to quell the
adrenaline rush that was urging him onward. The pod was now approximately one
hundred and eighty meters from him. It might as well have been a light year.

"Julian! We'll need your help!" Eddington called out over the com.

"Right!" Bashir replied, knowing it didn't matter now that they people in the
pod needed his help, too. He couldn't do anything for them if he was dead.

"Eddington?" he heard his own voice, from somewhere else, ask in disbelief.

"What is it, Julian?" the captain snapped back.

"That– wasn't me–" Bashir said, then turned in shock to look at the three
Starfleet officers who had beamed down closest to him. One of them was looking
back, but he was too far away to see clearly behind the face plate. "I think we
just encountered some of the locals," Bashir told his superior. "Including the
other Bashir."

"What?" Eddington asked, then swore under his breath in very convincing
Betazoid. Bashir took position and began firing at the Romulans who were just as
well covered as he was, trying to catch one of them, even with debris from their
rocky shelters. "How are we on the same com frequency?"

"We're probably not," Bashir replied. "But close enough."

"Who the hell do we have out there?" Eddington demanded, not pausing between
shooting.

"Lieutenant Ro Laren, Doctor Julian Bashir, and Lieutenant Ezri Dax," Ro's voice
replied.

"Ezri Dax?" Bashir and Reth both said at once.

"Yes," a female voice which sounded exactly like Reth's replied.

"Let's sort this all out later, shall we?" Eddington suggested. "I'm Captain
Michael Eddington, Starfleet Security, and someone from your group needs to tell
me what the hell you know."

"We received a distress call from this area and ran into a Romulan warbird when
we got here. I'm Lieutenant Ro Laren, chief of security on Deep Space Nine."

"Which, to you, is Terok Nor," the other Bashir's voice said in Bashir's helmet.

"They're Cardassian terraformers from our side," Eddington said. "We came here
to get them back."

"Then let's do that," Ro said.

"Julian, get to that pod," Eddington said. "The rest of you, get the hell over
here, except you, Benson."

"Which one?" the other Bashir asked.

"Call me Jules, Michael," Bashir replied and began moving again, as Benson
provided some nice fire cover across from them. The others were moving, already
closer to the main group than he was. Bashir heard the sound of rock shattering
near him and picked up his pace, scrambling into a small hollow and then out
again, dragging himself behind a less-than-satisfactory rock. He heard a yell
across his com and instinctively moved toward the sound of pain coming from
Reth– or maybe the other Ezri.

"I've got it!" the other Bashir yelled and Bashir was thankful that someone knew
him so well. He turned back toward the pod just in time to see two figures in
thermal clothing scrambling out, brandishing phasers and scrabbling for footing
on the pod's slippery surface. "Captain, the other ship is hailing us," Tenmei
reported. She was now wearing a neural inhibitor, as were Ro and a few other
members of his crew on the bridge.

"On screen. Adjust for the frequency variation."

Tenmei nodded and the screen jumped to life, revealing the bridge of a ship very
similar to the Quicksilver's and a woman who Sisko realized with a start was
Kira.

"Captain!" he said.

"Captain!" she replied with equal surprise. Sisko gave his head a shake to clear
it; there were obvious differences between the Kira Nerys he knew and this one.
Starting with the uniform, which was distinctly different with its grey padded
shoulders. And the fact that the Kira he knew wasn't commanding another
Starfleet ship.

"We came to get our people back," Sisko said.

"Who are they?" Kira demanded. She certainly spoke like the Kira he knew.

"Cardassian terraformers on their way to Telios-Celan," Sisko replied.

"How many?"

"Eleven on board that ship," Sisko said. "I don't know how many on the surface."

"We need to get their shields down and beam aboard."

"Agreed," Sisko said, glancing at his officers, noticing that some of them were
staring at their counterparts in open shock, while others had no counterparts or
didn't seem to care.

"I'm sending you an attack pattern and information on where Romulan shield
design is weakest."

"We'll follow your lead," Sisko said, nodding to her. "End communication,
Lieutenant," he said to Tenmei, who nodded. The screen jumped back to the view
of the Romulan ship.

"Ro, read that info. Tenmei, get us into position and let's go."

"Aye, sir," both women responded at once and Sisko watched as the Defiant began
to move and felt his own ship move along with it. Ellik kicked out a hatchway
panel and dropped into an occupied cell. One of her crew, an exobiologist named
Laresel Ket looked up in surprise, pushing himself to his feet.

"Doctor Ellik!" he cried, relief evident in his voice and eyes.

"Here," Ellik said, pushing a phaser rifle into his hands. "It's pretty basic.
Come on. There are nine others."

To his credit, Ket shouldered the weapon and didn't ask questions. Ellik crawled
back into the passageway, Ket following her, and led him back to the main
corridor. She hadn't wanted to confront any more guards on her own, but with
someone backing her up, she felt more confident. They scrambled into the dim
lighting of the hallway, staying low until they heard nothing.

"This way," Ellik hissed, then nearly dropped her phaser when a warning klaxon
went off.

"I think they've figured us out," she said, gesturing for Ket to hurry, which he
did. She pressed herself against the wall, moving that way, as quickly as she
could. Rounding a corner nearly brought her face to face with a phaser blast and
she jerked herself back, returning fire and hearing the satisfying thump of
someone hitting the floor. She motioned for Ket to take up position opposite her
and he darted across the hall, aiming his weapon around the corner and firing.
Ellik nearly swore but kept herself silent, reminding herself that neither of
them were soldiers. Two more shots went past them in quick succession and Ellik
spun around the corner, focusing quickly and shooting the other Romulan guard.

A jolt through the whole ship made her stumble.

"What the hell was that?" Ket demanded.

"Our reinforcements, I think," Ellik replied.

"What? Do they know we're on this damn ship?"

"I hope so," the doctor muttered, gesturing for him to keep moving. They scooped
the weapons up from the two dead Romulans and crept through the corridor, then
came to a cell door. Without preamble, Ellik shot the locking controls and
forced the door open, peering inside. She was immediately bashed over the head
with a thin metal tray.

"Dammit!" she swore, backing out into the hallway.

"Doctor Ellik?" a surprised voice said from inside.

"Yes!" Ellik replied, rubbing her head. Another of her team, Neema Maglik,
limped out through the door. Ellik's heart ached when she saw the other
terraformer: Maglik's face was a map of bruises and she had restraining marks on
her forearms and wrists.

"I am so sorry!" Maglik said in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Lar, give her one of those phasers," Ellik growled, trying to will the pounding
in her head to subside. She screwed her eyes shut and then opened them again,
giving her head a shake.

"Are you all right?" Ket demanded.

"It won't kill me," Ellik replied. "Come on, before they get to us."

As if cued by her words, three more Romulans appeared behind them. Ellik dodged
a shot and spun, staying low, to fire. She caught the Romulan female in the
shoulder and then the stomach but didn't stay to watch her go down. She heard it
as she ran in the other direction, Ket ahead of her, Maglik somehow keeping step
despite her limp.

The ship rocked again, twice. Ellik had to grab Maglik's arm to keep the other
woman on her feet but didn't let them slow down.

"All hands," said a cool Romulan voice over the com, "We are under attack by two
Starfleet vessels. All hands to battle stations. Security to the detention
area."

Ellik glanced back to see that Ket had crouched down and was waving them on.
Grimly, she left him behind, and it was only seconds before the sound of weapons
fire came from behind them. They reached another cell, forced it open and stood
back, neither of them willing to fall victim to another tray to the head. When
no one emerged, Ellik stepped in and then out again, quickly. She shook her head
to Maglik.

"Keep moving," she said and the other woman didn't question. Ellik didn't want
to say that the person inside had been Doctor Elies Krem, the mission's
commander. They forced open yet another door and then threw themselves to the
floor when a shot came from behind them. Maglik managed to roll over and shoot
in the direction of the approaching Romulan soldier. The shot missed him and
both women scrambled away from the open cell, yelling at the occupant to stay
inside. Ellik turned back when she judged it safe enough and shot twice, missing
by a wide margin the first time and catching the Romulan square in the forehead
the second. She knew that had been a lucky shot and hoped for more like it. They
both scrambled back to the cell and dragged out the person inside, a soil
scientist named Hulin Madson. He was half-human and half Cardassian, but had
grown up on Cardassian Six and had the misfortune, as Ellik now saw it, of being
selected for this doomed mission.

Maglik had grabbed the fallen soldier's phaser and shoved it into Madson's
unresisting hands. Neither of the women mentioned that Ket hadn't come back.
Madson seemed stunned for a moment, then his Cardassian discipline reasserted
itself and he nodded at his commanding officer, following her down the hallway.
The ship continued to shake at intervals and a particularly violent shock threw
them all against a wall, nearly sending them stumbling into a Romulan guard.
Ellik and the guard regained their composure at the same time and he moved to
fire, but the Cardassian swung her phaser rifle's butt into his chin, knocking
him back. Adjusting her grip on the weapon, she slammed him over the head and
relieved him of his rifle, slinging it across her back.

"Come on," she said, breathing heavily. The ship shuddered again and Ellik heard
the unmistakable whine of transporter beams. She and her tiny team aimed their
weapons, waiting for the Romulan guards to materialize. In a split second, Ellik
realized they weren't Romulans, they were Starfleet, but her reaction time was
better than Madson's. He fired at the person closest to him and a Bajoran
officer went down. Another security officer, a human, fired back and Madson hit
the ground with a grunt, having only been stunned.

"Hold fire!" Ellik and a Bajoran at the same time. The Bajoran planted herself
between the two groups, one hand held up to each side. She turned to Ellik.

"I'm Lieutenant Ro Laren. We're here to rescue you."

"We've been shooting at Romulans for awhile," Ellik said. "And you might be able
to tell we aren't in the greatest shape."

"I can see that," Ro said. "But I have a deputy dead now. And we need to get you
out of here."

"There are others," Ellik insisted.

"Then we find them." She tapped her combadge. "Ro to Quicksilver, beam Tore's
body back. We're got three free Cardassians here and we're going after the other
prisoners."

"Understood, Lieutenant," said a low male voice from the other end. "Keep us
informed. Sisko out."

Ellik noticed that two of the five security officers were wearing uniforms that
didn't match Ro's, but she didn't question it. Starfleet seemed to be constantly
updating its uniforms and who was she to argue with their rescuers?

"Come on," Ro said. "Let's move." "Stay down!" Bashir yelled into his helmet,
waving at the two figures scrambling across the pod, shooting indiscriminately
into the melee. He realized they couldn't hear him and whipped off the helmet,
taking a lung-searing breath of freezing air. "Stay down!" he yelled again.

"Dammit, Julian!" Eddington's voice came from the helmet Bashir held in one
hand, sounding small and tinny. Bashir moved to duck when a blast from a Romulan
caught him across the shoulder. He grunted, his helmet falling from his hand,
and another shot hit him across the back. Bashir fell, catching his temple
against a rock and landing face first in the icy snow. He groaned, trying to
push himself back up, his eyes having difficulties focusing on the ground. The
snow was turning red and he realized he was bleeding from his forehead. He
smacked a hand over the wound, wincing, and heard the rock protecting him
shatter with another shot. A piece of the debris cut his neck and Bashir yelled,
barely audible over the din. He sagged, rolling onto his back, breathing in air
so cold it burned his nose and lungs. He fumbled with his med kit and managed to
get a sealing patch on his neck, but had no idea if he'd set it right. He
dragged the helmet over his head again.

"Need help," he managed.

"Nadir, get the hell over there!" Eddington's voice came. Then: "Dammit! Get
these idiots down!"

Bashir wondered what had happened but could not force himself to sit up to see.
He lay in the sparse shelter provided by the boulder and wondering if he would
die before Nadir could get to him. Julian Bashir cursed to himself as he knelt
next to the woman named Ezri Reth and kept himself low to avoid the fire. She
was cradling her left arm, wincing. It was wrenching; she looked almost exactly
like Ezri Dax and Bashir's heart cried out against what his brain saw as such a
good friend in pain.

"You'll be all right," he promised her, trying not to think about the fact that
this wasn't his Ezri, nor was she Dax. Another symbiont, which meant that maybe
Jadzia Dax was still alive, over there.

He could see that her EV suit had been compromised and knew that he couldn't
have her beamed to the Defiant; his ship would already be in confrontation with
the warbird.

"I'm going to take off your helmet so I can give you an analgesic, all right? It
will be cold, but you can breathe the air."

"Okay," Reth agreed, nodding quickly. Bashir unlocked the latch and pulled the
helmet off. Reth's face screwed up as she took a breath of the minus thirty air.
Bashir worked fast, injecting her and putting the helmet back on. Looking at her
like that had given him enough time to see the few subtle differences in her
face. She didn't have the same look of hard won confidence Dax had. She still
seemed confident to him, but perhaps she hadn't dealt with the same shock of
joining, or Reth was an easier symbiont. He had no idea.

The EV suit slowed down his dermal regenerator, and it was nothing better than a
patch-up job, but it would have to do. Bashir sealed the hole in the arm of her
suit with a magnetic band.

"You'll have to stay down and out of the fighting," he said.

"I'm right handed. I can still shoot," she said through gritted teeth. There was
a big difference; Ezri Dax was left handed.

"Doctor's orders," he said.

"Are you as good a doctor as the Julian I know?" she inquired.

"Yes," Bashir said, having no idea if it were true.

"Right then," Reth said.

Bashir looked up fast when he heard his own voice yelling from across the plane.
With some despair, he saw the other Bashir with his helmet off, yelling at two
people who had emerged from the half-buried escape pod. He yelled himself when
he saw the other doctor go down from two shots, then Eddington – Eddington of
all people! – was ordering the Nadir from the other universe over to help him.

"Benson, get to those damn kids!" Eddington snapped. Bashir saw the skilled
security officer take down another Romulan – they were down to six now – and
start toward the two young people. Bashir saw the shot almost before it
happened: a Romulan ducked low and spun around, firing first at the young man,
who fell backward immediately, then at the woman, who had the sense to move out
of the way, but not fast enough. Benson, Bashir saw, rose from his cover and
fired, downing two Romulans in quick succession and drawing the attention of the
other four away from the Cardassians.

Bashir moved to go around to help the youths but Eddington grabbed his arm,
staying him.

"I've already got one doctor down!" he snapped. "We need to get these Romulans
out of the picture. Move!"

Bashir nodded, pushing aside the strangeness of following orders from a man who,
in his universe, was a dead Maquis leader. He raised his rifle and fired,
spraying rock debris into the Romulan soldier's midst. They returned with fire
of their own and Bashir waited until he got a clear shot and took one down with
an accurate hit on the chest. He saw Ezri Dax follow suit quickly and another
Romulan went down. Benson, who had moved a bit closer to the attackers and
toward the pod, popped up, fired, ducked back down again, then repeated the
motion after a shot had passed his head. Eddington took out the final Romulan
and then the air seemed so still as to be oppressive.

"Right, now, Bashir," Eddington said. "And you, Dax, and Ro, go with him. Get
those damn kids."

Bashir didn't have to be told twice, nor did Dax or Ro. They were up and running
across the ice, which crunched beneath their boots, both women with their
phasers out and ready in case any of the Romulans were bluffing. Bashir made
himself stay between them, but had eyes only for the two wounded Cardassians.

"Nadir, how's Julian?" Eddington demanded and Bashir almost replied that he was
fine.

"We need to get him to sickbay. Now," the nurse's voice came back and Bashir
felt his blood run cold.

"Eddington to Quicksilver," Eddington said. "We need emergency medical
evacuation."

It was Tenmei's voice who replied and Bashir was certain he heard a suggestion
of satisfaction when she replied:

"We're on our way, Captain."

---
Home
---

One of the damn Federation ships had disappeared.

"Find it! Return fire on to the other!" Reyal ordered. His ship shook with a
direct hit, but he took a degree of satisfaction when his retaliation was
equally on target. Another hit made him lurch in his chair.

"Sir, they've knocked out weapons array," Sren reported.

"Engine room! I need those warp engines now!" Reyal snapped over the com.

"We can't, sir!" came the reply and Reyal narrowed his grey eyes.

"You have two minutes to give me something, Sub-Commander," he growled.

Several people beaming over caught his attention and he yelled for his officers
to get out their weapons. The beams materialized, depositing four very
displeased Starfleet officers. Reyal's people tried to fire.

"Don't bother," a sharp featured Bajoran woman said. "We've disrupted all your
weapons."

The man standing beside her, a dark skinned, imposing human, said:

"I've come to get the Cardassians back."

Reyal noted the difference in their uniforms for the first time. They had been
followed. Some damn Starfleet crew had followed them through.

"What the hell did you want with Cardassians for another universe?" the Bajoran
woman demanded. The other two officers were obviously security: one in the
standard gold and black that Reyal was familiar with, the other in grey and
black, his uniform most closely resembling that of the captain from the other
universe.

They were interrupted by the com.

"Yires to Captain Sisko."

Sisko – now that Reyal had the name, he could pinpoint why the human was so
familiar – tapped his badge.

"Go ahead, Yires."

"We've secured all the Cardassians left alive, sir. We have three dead."

"Cardassians or security?" Sisko demanded.

"Cardassians, sir. We lost Tore and, um– Smythe from the other ship, and
Lieutenant Ro's been injured."

"Get everyone back to the Quicksilver or the Defiant, whichever can pick you up
first."

"Yes, sir. Yires out."

"Now," Sisko said, turning back Reyal, keeping a phaser rifle aimed at him. "Why
don't you tell me why you kidnapped a group of Cardassian terraformers from my
universe?"

Reyal down at Sisko.

"No," he said flatly.

The Bajoran woman, Captain Kira Nerys, from Deep Space Nine, he realized, sighed
and tapped her badge.

"Kira to Defiant," she said.

"Go ahead, sir," a male voice replied.

"Shar, start sending in teams to round up the Romulans and get Nog over here. We
need someone who can learn to pilot this ship fast. We'll be taking them back to
the station with us."

"And the Cardassians?"

"Are coming home with me," Sisko replied.

"Understood," the man named Shar replied and signed off. Reyal glowered at the
Bajoran captain, calculating in his mind how long it would take the Romulan
Empire to hear of this and how displeased his superiors would be. He would
rather face their displeasure, though, than remain in the hands of the
Federation barbarians.

A moment later, three more security officers, all in gold and black, appeared,
and began rounding up the bridge officers. Reyal ordered them to give no
resistance; they might not have their Cardassians prisoners anymore, but they
had the information gleaned from them, and that could stay some of the
displeasure his superiors were going to feel. And it was not something these
Starfleet upstarts could steal from them, either. Bashir knew he must be dying
because he saw himself hovering over his body, and that could only be a
hallucination brought on by shock and loss of blood. The image of himself said:

"Don't worry, you'll be just fine," in his own voice, but he did notice that
uniform was different. It was teal and black, with grey padded shoulders on the
jacket, and Bashir wondered at this strange image. Why would his brain change
his appearance? Why would a doctor wear teal instead of green? That was the
science officer colour. Perhaps he was thinking of Dax.

He thought of Dax as he felt something cold press against the side of his neck,
injecting him. He wished he could have seen her once more, just to say good-bye,
and his daughters, too.

"Stay with me, Jules," his voice said and Bashir wanted to tell himself to shut
up, but couldn't find his voice as his eyes drifted shut. Ezri Dax was sitting
in the sickbay of the Quicksilver, which was far superior to the sickbay on the
Defiant. It was bigger, with more beds and better equipment, and she wondered if
Bashir was envious of the upgrading obviously done here.

She was waiting treatment, feeling tired, her arm sore and bruised. But there
were people ahead of her, and the other Bashir was in emergency surgery, as was
the young woman they'd found on the surface. The young man with her had died
instantly when he'd been shot, and Dax felt a wave of sadness at that; he had
only been twenty-two. There were a few Cardassians transferred from the Defiant,
one of whom, a woman named Ellik, was looking anxious and darting her gaze
toward the surgery bay every few seconds. This place even had a separate surgery
bay. Bashir must be jealous.

Lieutenant Ro from the other universe was there, too, along with several
security officers, both in the familiar gold and black uniforms and the black
and grey of the alternate universe. Ro was sedated and either sleeping or
unconscious as she awaited treatment, and the others were looking bored or
annoyed, waiting for the Nurse Nadir from this universe to treat them. Dax was
having a hard time keeping everyone straight, and it was only the uniforms that
allowed her to determine who was from where.

The doors hissed open and Dax looked up to see Ezri Reth stroll in. The other
Trill paused in the doorway and Dax made a quick evaluation of the woman who was
her counterpart. She wore a black and green uniform, which Dax understood to
signify her status as a medical officer. The pips on her collar were bronze and
Dax saw she was a lieutenant commander. Someone had explained the medical pip
colours to her: silver for physicians, gold for nurses, bronze for psychologists
and psychiatrists, black for medics. Dax thought it was an efficient system; no
one could ever doubt who they were dealing with once they knew the code.

Reth approached her with a confident step. Dax was pleased to see that her
counterpart had the same strong confidence she did, despite the different
symbionts.

"May I talk with you?" Reth asked and Dax smiled.

"Of course," she said. She was deliciously curious about her counterpart and
wanted to know everything she could find out in the time they had. She thought
Kira would be fine with it, and could not judge the reaction of the Sisko from
the other universe.

Reth pulled up a chair and settled into it beside Dax's bed.

"Who's Reth?" Dax asked, speaking before Reth could. "I've never heard of that
symbiont."

Reth grinned. It was like looking in a mirror, except for the uniform and the
fact that the other Trill's dark hair was tinted purple at the ends. Dax
remembered threatening to do that to her own hair once, but never had.

"Maybe you don't have Reth here," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm the first
host."

Dax's eyebrows rose. That was so rare to see nowadays, and wouldn't be happening
anymore, thanks to the decisions made by the Symbiosis Commission after the
disaster with the parasites.

"How did you get the Dax symbiont? Jadzia must have died," Reth said.

Dax nodded, slightly saddened.

"She did. She was murdered by a Cardassian named Dukat."

"Dukat?" Reth demanded, her own eyebrows shooting up, dismay crossing her face.
"Do you mean Skrain Dukat?"

"Yes. You know him?"

"I know our Skrain Dukat, not very well. He's– He's Captain Kira's father."

Dax stared.

"She doesn't look half Cardassian."

Reth waved a hand.

"No, no. Her biological father died when she was a baby. Admiral Dukat married
Kira Meru when Nerys was only two, I think. He adopted her."

Dax shook her head slowly.

"Admiral Dukat. There certainly are some differences."

"I'll say," Reth agreed. "What made you choose the Dax symbiont?"

"Actually, I didn't, really. After Jadzia died, Dax was being transported back
to Trill on the Destiny, the ship I was serving on at that time. It began to
destabilize and needed a host or else it would die. The only Trill on board was
me."

Reth looked shock.

"You weren't an initiate? You had no training?"

"None," Dax agreed.

Reth shifted in her chair, shaking her head in disbelief.

"That must have been awful," she said.

"It was, at first. Now, I wouldn't trade the decision for any in the galaxy."

Reth smiled.

"How did you get Reth? I take it you did have the initiate training?"

"I did," the other woman confirmed. "The Symbiosis Commission decided I would be
a suitable first host and Reth became available after my first year at the
Academy. It was an interesting experience, finishing one year as Ezri Tigan and
going back the next as Ezri Reth. But not as hard as adjusting to a symbiont
with several lives of experience, I imagine."

"Probably not," Dax agreed. "So Jadzia is still alive, over there?"

"Yes," Reth said.

"Good," Dax replied. "I remember– well, technically, Jadzia remembers– when
Julian came back here, he told us that your Jadzia was married to the other
him." She paused, trying to make sense of the sentence she'd just spoken, then
laughed. "This is harder than it was trying to sort out my pronouns after I was
first joined!"

Reth chuckled.

"I know, it's a bit confusing. I take it your aren't a counselor."

"I was," Dax said quickly. "About a year after I was joined, I decided to switch
to command track. I'm DS9's strategic operations officer now."

"Are you married?" Reth asked.

"No. I, uh, dated Julian for awhile, but it ended."

Reth looked surprised again.

"Julian? Really? No matter where he is, he seems to have a fondness for Dax, I
suppose."

Dax laughed.

"You could certainly say that. And you? Are you married?"

Reth smiled and Dax knew the answer right away. Reth held up a small PADD she'd
been carrying and gave it to Dax. On it was an image of a very good looking
Trill man in his late twenties or early thirties, with a shock of auburn hair
and brilliant auburn eyes to match.

"Jarlan Tren, formerly Jarlan Cevan," she said. "We've been married for just
over three months now."

"Congratulations," Dax said sincerely. She tried to remember if she, Ezri, had
ever met a Jarlan Cevan, but didn't recall anyone who looked like him.

"He just got posted to Terok Nor as a civilian geologist," Reth said. "Which is
good, because I didn't want to give up my commission on the station and leave my
home."

Dax nodded; she understood about the station being home. She glanced up when she
noticed Doctor Ellik had stopped pacing and saw Bashir standing in the doorway
of the surgical bay, pulling his gloves off. Reth was on her feet instantly.

"Ezri," he said, nodding at Dax, then Reth. "Ezri."

"Is he all right?" both women demanded as one.

Bashir smiled.

"He'll be okay. He needs time to recuperate, but he'll live."

"Can I talk to him?" Reth demanded.

"He's unconscious right now," Bashir said. "I need to give him some time to come
out of recovery."

"All right," the counselor agreed. "Let me know when."

"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, my work isn't done."

Both women nodded and Bashir turned to speak to Ellik, who was anxious for news
on her youngest staff member. Reth watched the other woman, then turned back to
Dax.

"I'm going to go talk to her and the others," she said. "They might need it."

"I understand. Let me know if I can help out. I still remember my psychological
training."

Reth smiled.

"Once you get that arm taken care of, you're on." The captains of both ships had
let their crews intermingle as they sorted out the freed Cardassians and the
captured Romulans. Kira would take the Romulans to Deep Space Nine, and contact
both the Federation Council and the Romulan Senate to let them know what had
happened, and, since they were acting in what was now Federation space and
kidnapping Federation citizens – albeit from another universe – they would be
tried in a Federation court. Sisko was taking the Cardassians home, including
the dead, and waiting anxiously for news on his doctor, who had been seriously
wounded.

After all the arrangements had been made, while the wounded were still being
treated, Kira and Sisko sat down for a personal discussion. Kira was somewhat
disappointed to realize her counterpart wasn't there, but delighted to learn
that she was nothing like the Kira in the Alliance universe. Sisko filled her in
briefly: Captain Kira Nerys was married to Kai Bareil Antos and the mother of an
infant son named Keryn. Kira was elated to learn that Bareil was still alive and
had been elected kai. When she inquired about Vedek Winn, Sisko looked surprised
and said he hadn't thought of her in years. She had been murdered by a Bajoran
engineer whose name he no longer remembered. She had been a follower of Winn's,
but had turned on the Vedek when Winn had hatched a plan to assassinate Bareil.
Kira had only been able to shake her head in disbelief: it seemed those events
had been opposite of the history she knew. And, of course, there had been no
Occupation, so no way of framing Bareil for the death of twelve hundred people
in the Kendra Valley. She wished the Bajor Sisko spoke of, the one that had
never been occupied, the one that had hundreds of years of solid trust with the
Cardassians, was her own. Kira knew wishing wouldn't change anything, and it did
feel good to know that somewhere there existed a Bajor that had always been
free.

She told Sisko about what had happened to her captain, being taken by the
Prophets, being returned nine months later. Sisko seemed surprised at this and
confided that he'd never been told by the Prophets that they needed to take him
with them. He had never retired from Starfleet, obviously, but had married
Kasidy Yates over there and had a daughter named Rebecca. He was still
considered the Emissary, but it did not seem the Prophets there demanded quite
so much from him as they did here. Perhaps, Kira thought, because Bajor wasn't
in dire straights over there.

They went over to sickbay on the Quicksilver when Kira's Bashir informed them
that the other Bashir was out of surgery and would survive. By the time they got
down there, Bashir and the Quicksilver's EMH had finished operating on Kelde
Moset and predicted she would survive, although Bashir seemed less confident.
Kira left Sisko to visit his medical officer and asked Bashir if she could see
Moset. He let her in, although the girl was still unconscious, and Kira simply
watched her for a few moments, more and more aware of how vast the difference
between the two universes was. Here, Crell Moset was a war criminal, a man who
had committed genocide. She didn't know about the Crell Moset over there, but
suspected that without an occupation, he hadn't run about infecting Bajorans
with a deadly pathogen. And this was his youngest daughter. She had seen some of
the Cardassians in the main area of the sickbay and watched the Quicksilver crew
interacting with them. Some of the security officers on board the other ship
were Cardassians in Starfleet uniforms. It was amazing. Watching then, Kira was
able to see that they all considered themselves on even footing, and that there
was indeed a long history of trust and friendship between Cardassia and Bajor.
She had never in her life imagined she would see Cardassians and Bajorans
interacting without suspicion or mistrust, as if there were no real difference
between them other than physiologically. She'd even seen Cardassians with
Bajoran earrings: children of the Prophets. It was astounding.

She was tempted to go with them, but knew that she couldn't. This was her life,
and making things better here was part of her job. If she could help Bajor
become more than it was, then it was worth staying. Kira felt she'd already
accomplished a great deal in that mission.

Bashir, looking tired, informed her that her injured crew members were well
enough to transport back to the Defiant. Kira nodded, noticing that Dax and Reth
were speaking with some of the patients, and she wondered if Ezri Reth was or
had been a counselor. She wondered if Dax had spoken to Reth, taken the
opportunity to get to know her, if only a little.

"Jadzia is still alive over there, Nerys," Bashir said softly, calling her back
to reality. She looked at him with surprise, then smiled.

"I guess that makes sense," she said. "Captain Sisko told me about Admiral
Dukat. He doesn't sound like the sadistic, murdering bastard that Gul Dukat was.
And they didn't have a war with the Dominion."

"I know," Bashir said, and Kira remembered he'd been able to recall that long
enough to record it in his log.

"Will the other Julian be all right on their way home?"

Bashir nodded.

"They have an EMH and Amia more than knows what she's doing."

"All right," Kira agreed. "Shall we go?"

Bashir nodded and turned to the sickbay over to the Nurse Nadir from the other
universe and, with his nurse's help, began preparing the Defiant's injured for
transport back to their ship. Kira gave what help she could, wishing Bashir had
actually had a chance to talk his counterpart. Bashir and Nadir were helping the
last of the wounded who could walk comfortably to the transport room when Ezri
Reth hurried up to him, asking for a moment of his time. He waved Nadir and two
security officers turned patients ahead and stepped aside, looking down at her.
She smiled at him, but it was a generic smile, not the smile of an old friend.
He had his own Ezri; the other Bashir had this one. Although they obviously had
never been lovers, he was certain they were friends.

"Jules asked me to give this to you," Reth said and Bashir started at the
nickname. There it was again. On the surface, the other Bashir had requested
Eddington call him that, but Bashir hadn't realized the other man made common
use of it.

"You don't go by that nickname do you?" she inquired, and he reminded himself
that Reth symbiont or not, this was still Ezri and she was quick and
intelligent.

"No," he said.

"Jules does reserve it for his close friends, but I suspect there's been a lot
in your lives that's vastly different. Here. He wants you to have this."

She held out a small framed holo photo and a PADD and Bashir took them
curiously. His eyes widened when he saw the people in the holo: it was the other
Bashir, Jadzia Dax and a very young girl and a baby. He stared at it for a
moment, focusing more on Dax than anyone, then read the PADD.

Julian, it read, I'd like you to keep this. It would have been interesting to
talk to you. Me and Zia you recognize. The girl is Renzia, and the baby is
Narye. We adopted her a couple of years ago, when she was only three weeks old.
She's a full Trill. They're both growing up beautifully, and too fast, and are
bright and happy. I owe you one. Jules Bashir.

Bashir smiled, shaking his head. He, too, wished he could have spoken to the man
whose life he had lead for those few days all those years ago.

"He should be resting, not writing," Bashir said to Reth.

She grinned.

"Do you make a good patient?" she asked pointedly.

Bashir sighed, shaking his head.

"Please make sure he rests, though."

"I will," she assured him, patting him on the arm. "I need to get back to
sickbay now, and you need to get back to your ship. Good-bye, Julian. It was
good to meet you."

Bashir grinned, holding out a hand.

"And you," he said as Reth shook his hand. He watched her for a moment as she
walked away, then looked down at the PADD and the holo again before hurrying to
catch up with Nadir and the security officers, to return to the Defiant. The
Quicksilver docked at Terok Nor again several hours later. The Starfleet vessels
had worked from their respective sides to close the rift again, then the
Quicksilver had headed for home. By the time they had arrived, Bashir was
feeling much more himself again, but Nadir had firmly confined him to his bed.
He chaffed under her restrictions but didn't protest, aside from giving her
plaintive looks which she stoically ignored. Rather than letting him walk from
the ship to the infirmary, she had him and some of the other patients
transported, including Ro, who was equally unhappy about it, and much more
vocal. Nadir simply reminded her that while Ro was in charge of station
security, Nadir was in charge of her health and the Bajoran was going to stay
put. Bashir distracted Ro by asking her about her alternate self and learning
quite a bit about the other universe in the process. He also learned that the
other Ro was in a relationship with Quark, which appalled the security officer
he knew and made him laugh. He couldn't even picture them together.

When they materialized in the infirmary, Dax was waiting for him and Bashir lit
up. She hugged him as soon as she could and admonished him for getting himself
hurt.

"Pff, I'll be fine," Bashir said. "Where are my daughters?"

"In the care center for the time being. You do not need the enthusiasm of two
toddlers right now."

"They're my children," Bashir protested.

"And mine," Dax said. "And I am your wife. And your superior officer. Right now,
what I say goes."

Bashir heaved a sigh but couldn't help grinning. He held her face between his
hands and kissed her. It was a soul lifting relief to be home, to know that his
Jadzia Dax was still alive, despite what had happened to her counterpart in the
other universe. That didn't matter; it wasn't his life, or his loss.

"Renzi had some idea that we'd all go to Trill once you got back," Dax said once
they'd finished kissing. "Now, where did she get that from?"

"Must have been you," Bashir suggested.

Dax stuck out her tongue at him, laughing.

"Well, I called my parents and they'd be delighted if we came. The girls grow so
fast and they miss their grandparents."

"Maybe their grandparents would be willing to baby-sit for a few hours a couple
of the days," Bashir suggested.

Dax grinned wickedly, her blue eyes gleaming, and Bashir's interest was
instantly piqued.

"What?" he asked.

"They're already agreed to take the girls for three days, and I've booked us a
suit at the Hoobishan Baths."

Bashir grinned back, squeezing her hands and kissing her again.

"Did I ever mention how much I love you?" he asked.

Dax kissed his forehead, smoothing a hand over his hair.

"I'll let you prove it to me when we get to our hotel room," she promised. Kira
Nerys sat with Julian Bashir, Ezri Dax, and Ro Laren in the Defiant's tiny ready
room. She was glad that the rift between the universes had been sealed and that
the Quicksilver was safely on its way home, but she was troubled as well.

"How in the galaxy would the Romulans know how to create one of those breaches?"
she asked to the group. "How would they know about that other universe?"

"I've been thinking about that," Bashir said before any of the others could
speak. "There's only one answer I could think of. Sloan."

Kira's eyes widened and she saw Ro stiffen and Dax put a hand to her forehead.

"But how?" the captain asked.

Bashir shrugged one shoulder.

"He followed me there," he replied. "And he was working with Koval. If he gave
Koval the information we gathered on sealing the rift, they may have found a way
to open one artificially."

Kira's eyes darted to the closed door that separated their small group from the
bridge. She thought about the Romulans they had in their tiny brig, of their
superior officers who must have given them the mission, of the entire Romulan
Senate.

"And if he gave that information to Koval. . ." she started.

"There's no telling who he's shared it with," Bashir finished.

---

End -- Greensleeves series (for now)