***The Hills of Time***
***by George Pollock, Jr.***

***Chapter 8***
***Once More Unto the Breach***

   "Enterprise, this is Major Kira Nerys. You are cleared for docking at 
Upper Pylon C. Welcome to Deep Space Nine."
   "Thank you. Enterprise out."
   Kira sighed quietly at her station on the lower level of Ops. She turned 
to Captain Benjamin Sisko, standing on the upper level in front of his 
office. His arms were crossed in front of him. He looked as if he were 
bracing himself for a stern lecture.
   Because that's what he expected. 
   At the very least.
   "They're here," Kira said, a little apprehensively.
   Sisko nodded thoughtfully. After a moment of stony silence, he uncrossed 
his arms and walked to the lift. Kira watched while he slowly disappeared as 
the lift dropped away.
   Jadzia Dax, at the science station, turned to the Bajoran officer. "You'd 
think the Enterprise visiting would be a big deal. Has Benjamin told you why 
it's here?"
   Kira was still looking toward the lift. "Nope." She turned to face the 
Trill. "The captain hasn't told me anything about it since he got word it was 
on its way. Just that it would arrive today."
   "Think it has to do with that cease-fire rumor that's going around?"
   "Don't know."
   "Any guesses?"
   "Haven't a clue." Kira thought. "But they wouldn't send the flagship of 
Starfleet out here, while there's a war on, unless they had a very good 
reason."
   Dax pondered it. "That's what I was afraid of ..."

*******

   They know, Sisko thought.
   Deep Space Nine's commander headed intently down a corridor toward the 
airlock at Upper Pylon C. Where the Enterprise was.
   They know. They're not stupid.
   They know.
   They found out about me and Garek.
   They found out we faked the message rod about the Dominion planning to 
invade Romulus. The one that made the Romulans join the war on our side. The 
one that gave us a fighting chance again.
   They know.
   And that's why they're here.
   Starfleet Command didn't even tell me why the Enterprise was coming here. 
Just that I should be ready for it.
   Be ready ...
   For what?
   Loss of command? Loss of career? A penal colony? Disgrace?
   How do you get ready for that?
   And the timing doesn't make sense ...
   They just gave me the go-ahead to plan the invasion of Cardassia Prime. 
Admiral Ross came all the way out here to tell me the proposal was accepted.
   The invasion. Something that couldn't be done if the Romulans hadn't 
joined our side. It would be impossible. They know that. Don't tell me 
Starfleet was unhappy when the Romulans came in. No matter why or how. Best 
thing that could have happened for the Federation. Don't they know that? They 
must know that ...
   Doesn't make sense ...
   None of this makes any sense ...
   Still ...
   Glad I erased my personal log about faking the message rod ...
   Damn ...
   Jennifer ...
   I miss you, hon'. It's times like this I miss you ...
   You always had more common sense than me.
   God, I miss you ...
   Sisko turned a corner. The airlock was waiting. So was the Enterprise.
   Well, he thought ...
   This is it.
   He took a deep breath and remembered some tactical advice he learned at 
Starfleet Academy: Wait for the enemy to come to you.
   And he remembered other advice, from less-serious moments of his academy 
days:
   Never tip your hand. And never show all your cards. 
   It seemed appropriate. 
   He smiled and tapped the airlock control.
   The two huge gear-shaped doors rolled aside. From the far end, a Starfleet 
officer with a data PADD left a portal in a wall that was actually the hull 
of the Enterprise. The officer, smiling broadly, approached Sisko.
   Capt. Jean-Luc Picard extended his hand. "Benjamin! Good to see you again!"
   Sisko shook the older man's hand. "Welcome back to DS9, Captain. Good to 
see you again ..."

*******

   It's been a long time, Picard thought.
   Years, in fact. Years since he had been to DS9.
   His last visit had been when Sisko accepted command of the station, after 
initially refusing it. At that time, Sisko was still deeply hurt by his 
wife's death. And he blamed Picard for it.
   Picard had been Locutus, a Borg, at Wolf 359. The battle in which Jennifer 
Sisko died. Along with hundreds of others.
   Sisko didn't want any part of Picard after that. And maybe any part of 
Starfleet. He hadn't been sure then.
   Thank the Bajoran Prophets they changed his mind, Picard thought. 
   After encountering the wormhole aliens, Sisko had decided to remain on 
DS9. To learn, maybe, from the Prophets. And, maybe, to learn about himself.
   He had learned much -- and learned it well, the starship captain thought. 
Sisko had served with distinction on the station in the years that followed. 
He was the linchpin that keep the Federation presence here vital.
   So why, Picard wondered, was Sisko so much on his guard right now ...?
   Like I'm going to throw him in the brig ...
   Doesn't make sense ...
   Maybe he still has a  lingering resentment about my being Locutus ...
   My God ...
   I grieve for his wife, too ...
   I grieve for the hundreds lost ...
   Because I was Locutus ...
   It horrified me, too ...
   ... I need to stop thinking about this ...
   And so Picard asked, "The goatee is new, isn't it?"
   The two captains were on the lift heading to Ops. Sisko smiled. "I thought 
I needed a new look."
   Picard nodded in amusement. "So you shaved your head, too?"
   "Starfleet has a tradition of distinguished commanders who are bald, 
Captain."
   Picard chuckled loudly. "Touche ..."
   Sisko nodded in return. "I thought you'd appreciate that ..."
   The lift drew level with the deck of Ops. As Sisko led the way to his 
office, Picard saw Bajoran and Starfleet personnel at stations. Off to one 
side, a Starfleet enlisted man was face-first in an open panel on a console, 
trying to work some magic with a tool.
   The man's hair ...
   That curly hair ...
   And the broad shoulders beneath them ...
   "Chief!" Picard said. "Miles O'Brien!"
   The enlisted man gave a slight start at the mention of his name. 
Extricating himself from the panel, he turned. And went wide-eyed. "Captain! 
Captain Picard!"
   Picard extended his hand. "Good to see you again, Chief."
   O'Brien shook hands.  "Good to see you, sir. How are you? And the others 
on the Enterprise?"
   "Doing well, both. How are Keiko, Molly and your new boy, Yoshihiro?"
   The engineer was impressed. "You've heard about Yoshi, sir?"
   Picard turned mock-serious. "Mr. O'Brien," he said solemnly, "my family 
has run a winery for hundreds of years. I know a little something about 
working a grapevine ..."
   "Aye, sir," O'Brien replied, grinning.
   Sisko said, "Chief O'Brien keeps us up and running here."
   "Well ... I do what I can, given it's all Cardassian rig here," O'Brien 
said. "Everything else I know, I learned from Geordi LaForge on the 
Enterprise. Would you tell him I said hello, sir? And all the others?"
   Picard nodded. "Count on it, Chief. Please tell Keiko I said hello and 
offer my congratulations on Yoshi."
   "I'll do that, sir."
   Sisko gently touched Picard's arm. "My office is upstairs."
   The two captains headed for the short stairs. O'Brien prepared to return 
to working on the panel when he saw Kira come over. She stood nearby, 
watching the two officers enter Sisko's office. Then she turned to O'Brien. 
"So," she said, "that's Jean-Luc Picard, huh?"
   He nodded. "Yeah. In that office are two of the very best commanders in 
Starfleet, Major."
   She looked back toward the office. "I know only one of them, Chief. I'll 
trust your judgment on the other."
  "You can. Captain Picard's earned my respect dozens of times over."
  With that, he picked up a scanner and returned to the panel. Kira was still 
looking at the closed office doors. 
   She sighed.
   Funny, she thought ...
   Picard didn't seem so frightening ...
   So why was Captain Sisko so concerned about his visit?
   The redhaired woman shook her head.
   Starfleet ...
   Terrans ...
   I'll never figure them out ...

*******

   "It's called a baseball," Sisko explained.
   Seated across from him, Picard nodded as he examined the stained stitched 
sphere in his hand. "Used in an ancient game, I believe."
   The station commander shrugged in his chair. "Not so ancient. My son, 
Jake, and I play in a holosuite when we have the time -- when he isn't busy 
writing. And some Federation colonists are forming their own teams." He 
smiled. "It ain't over till it's over ..."
   "Hmm?" Picard paused in the middle of returning the ball to its stand on 
Sisko's otherwise-barren desk.
   "A piece of ancient Earth wisdom they might have overlooked in France, 
Captain. It means 'make no assumptions' ..." Sisko continued in a lower, 
thoughtful tone. "I have to keep reminding myself of that from time to time 
..."
   Picard returned the ball to its home base. "Good advice. Whoever said it 
was very wise."
   "His name was Yogi Berra. He did have a certain ... homespun wisdom ..."
   Picard nodded, tapped the data PADD on his lap almost absently, then took 
a deep breath. "Well ...," he said, exhaling the word, "I suppose you're 
wondering why the Enterprise made this visit."
   Sisko folded his fingers in front of him and assumed a neutral expression. 
"Now that you bring it up ..."
   "The Romulan entry in the war with the Dominion was rather unexpected, as 
you know ..."
   Let the enemy come to you, Sisko thought ...
   "That's not to say that it's unappreciated by the Federation ..."
   Wait for it ... Make no presumptive move ...
   "And the timing couldn't have been better for us, frankly ..."
   See what happens next ...
   "As if the cavalry knew exactly when to come charging in ..."
   Here it comes ...
   "Now," Picard continued, leaning forward in his chair slightly, "I know 
you've been told to start planning the invasion of Cardassia Prime, Benjamin 
..."
   But!
   "... Which Starfleet wants you to do with all due speed."
   Huh? 
   It took Sisko considerable effort to keep the thought from leaving his 
lips. He searched for a response for an instant, then squinted slightly in 
mild confusion. "They ... don't have to send the flagship all the way out 
here ... to tell me that ... do they?"
   Picard shook his head. "No, of course not. But there's been a change in 
the schedule."
   Holy God, Sisko thought. "Captain," he said, now the one to lean forward, 
"I told Starfleet that an invasion force couldn't be assembled in less than 
two weeks."
   "I've been apprised of that. You'll get three and a half."
   In a flash, all of Sisko's concerns about his future in Starfleet cleared 
off like smoke on a windy day. He was blown away by the extravagance. "Three 
and a half? That's a waste, Picard! I need only a little more than two! What 
is Starfleet Command thinking? The longer we wait, the more likely it is the 
Dominion will learn about it!"
   Picard took in the outburst calmly. "Benjamin," he said quietly, "give us 
those 25 days, and we might not need to invade Cardassia Prime at all."
   Sisko sat back slowly. So ... Picard had just shown an ace up his sleeve. 
Interesting ... He waited to see it played. "Do tell ...," he said smoothly.
   "With the Romulan entry into the war, the Dominion's position in the Alpha 
Quadrant had been compromised enough to make them want to parley."
   "I see ... Of course, the Romulans have exacted a price from us, too ..."
   "Agreed. But the Federation Council is willing to entertain any overture 
that stops the fighting, no matter for how little a time. It would save lives 
-- and allow us to regroup."
   Sisko raised an eyebrow. "And allow them to regroup, as well ..."
   "True. But Starfleet has reason to believe that the recent Dominion losses 
are serious enough for the Founders to be sincere in putting out truce 
feelers, if not peace feelers."
   "Oho ..." The station commander smiled slightly. "Something tells me the 
Enterprise will be involved in this somehow ..."
   Picard nodded. "Two weeks ago, a Dominion delegation approached Starfleet 
Command under an informal truce." He tapped some keys on the PADD and handed 
it to Sisko. "It was led by this Founder. I think you know her."
   Sisko studied the image on the small screen: what appeared to be a 
middle-aged humanoid woman with sunken eyes and brown hair pulled straight 
back. Her incredibly smooth face was noteworthy for its highly generalized 
features: no blemishes, no wrinkles, not even the distinct fleshy structures 
in the ears. As if someone had said, "A woman looks something like this" -- 
and then made her.
   Just as Constable Odo -- DS9's security chief and a changeling himself -- 
appeared to be someone's generalized idea of a humanoid male.
   "Yes, I know of her," Sisko finally said. He handed the PADD back to 
Picard. "We've dealt with her before ..."
   "She requested the parley on the Dominion's behalf.  She offered enough 
verifiable evidence that the Dominion's situation here compelled it to talk."
   Sisko paused. "I've found it hard to trust her, Captain. I would take 
anything she says with a grain of salt. I know that our Constable Odo, one of 
her race, certainly does."
   "I'm ... glad you brought Odo up, Benjamin ..." Picard said it in such a 
tone that Sisko knew he wasn't going to like what he was going to hear. "The 
Founder laid out some conditions for the parley ..."
   "Of course," Sisko acknowledged. "There always are ..."
   "The Enterprise is to proceed into the wormhole and to the Founders' home 
world. For our pledge of no aggressive acts while in the Gamma Quadrant, they 
will guarantee that we will not be harassed coming or going. The phrase was 
that we will be 'monitored but not followed or intercepted' if we adhere to 
that condition."
   "Very magnanimous ..." Sisko enjoyed using subtle sarcasm.
   "They also pledge a cease-fire by the Jem' Hadar and Cardassians in the 
Alpha Quadrant for 13 days starting at 0700 tomorrow to allow us time for the 
parley." Picard paused, considering how to broach the next subject. "They ... 
also set a condition that they said would be our ... 'insurance policy' ... 
against any Jem' Hadar attacks -- again, providing we make no aggressive acts 
..."
   Sisko eyed him. "What's the condition ...?"
   Picard took a breath. "They ask that we take Constable Odo on this trip. 
The Founders will tell the Jem' Hadar that a Founder is aboard the 
Enterprise. The Jem' Hadar won't attack any vessel carrying one of their 
'gods.' "
   Sisko was silent for a moment. "And the Federation and Starfleet believe  
the Founders will tell the Jem' Hadar that? Or actually observe a cease-fire? 
Sounds like a trap for both Odo and the Enterprise."
   "I think as much, too." Picard pressed some keys on the PADD and gave it 
to the station commander again. "But the female Founder signed a statement, 
dictated by Starfleet Command, pledging the 'insurance policy.' "
   Sisko studied it, then looked up at Picard. "Pacts and promises have been 
broken before, Captain ..."
   "Yes, they have. And we won't just blithely waltz into the Gamma Quadrant 
unprepared, Benjamin. We will act in self-defense if it's necessary. But," 
Picard said, assuming a solemn tone, "the Federation Council has accepted the 
proposal. And any chance we have of stopping the fighting is one we have to 
explore. I consider that worth the risk."
   Sisko sighed, more in concern than in exasperation. "I'll have to talk to 
Odo about this."
   "Tap the 'next-page' key, Captain. His decision has been made for him."
   The station commander pressed the PADD key. There it was: an order from 
the Bajoran Council of Ministers. Deep Space Nine Security Chief Odo was 
ordered to accompany the Enterprise on the mission to the Gamma Quadrant and 
render such services as Picard saw fit. "Well," Sisko said quietly, "that's 
pretty much that, then ..."
   Picard rubbed his chin pensively. "There's one more thing ..."
   "There always seems to be ..."
   "The Enterprise will need someone at Tactical who has experience in the 
Gamma Quadrant. You have that person. I've worked with him before."
   Sisko thought and reluctantly deduced the answer: "Worf ..."
   Picard nodded. "His experience there on the Defiant will be invaluable to 
this mission."
   "I suppose this if I tap this key again ..." Sisko's voice trailed off. On 
the small screen appeared Starfleet Command's orders assigning Lt. Cmdr. Worf 
temporarily to the Enterprise. "Bingo ...," he said resignedly. "OK, when do 
you need them?"
   "Tomorrow." Picard saw Sisko's surprise. "It takes five days at top warp 
to get to the Founders' world. They'll allow us six out, one day for a parley 
and six days back. At five days there and back -- and the day for parley -- 
that's 11 days. You'll have 25 days to assemble the invasion fleet. Hope it's 
enough leeway."
   "More than enough. Not that I like waiting around like that ..."
   "I'm very sorry to take them from you, Benjamin," Picard said, "but this 
mission has top priority right now. If it makes things any better, think of 
the lives this might save."
   To disagree with that would be tantamount to trashing motherhood, Sisko 
thought. He smiled ironically. "I also have a Bajoran redhead and a brunette 
Trill, if you need them, Jean-Luc ..."    
   Picard smiled back. He appreciated the other captain's understanding, no 
matter how warily it was offered. "Just the changeling and the Klingon, 
Benjamin. You have my word I'll return them in good shape."

*******

   "Worf!"
   The Klingon turned from his wife seated next to him at a table and looked 
around. Across the noisy, crowded lower level of Quark's, he saw them.
   Old friends.
   Good friends.
   Friends he hadn't seen in what seemed like ages.
   The man and woman.
   He smiled. Slightly. On the outside.
   On the inside, he glowed with Klingon joy. Which could be harmful to 
weaker beings if expressed outwardly in full. So he just smiled. Slightly.
   The man and woman approached, also smiling. Broadly.
   Commander. Counselor," Worf greeted them as he stood. "Good to see you 
again. Welcome to Deep Space Nine." He indicated his wife, who also stood up. 
"My wife -- Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax." His motioned toward the 
starship officers in introduction: "Commander William Riker. Counselor Deanna 
Troi. Shipmates from the Enterprise."
   Riker extended his hand, which Worf shook. Gently. "Damn good to see you 
again, Mr. Worf," Riker said, grinning. Then he nodded toward Dax. " 'Mrs. 
Worf,' I presume ...?"
   Dax chuckled. "Just 'Jadzia,' please."
   Troi smiled. "May I give a friendly hug to an old married man?" she asked 
playfully.
   Worf looked back at his wife. "Oh, go ahead, Worf!" Dax answered. "They're 
your friends. I understand."
   Troi hugged the Klingon. Worf returned the embrace. Gently. 
"Congratulations to both of you on your marriage," Troi said. "Many years of 
happiness together."
   Worf let the beautiful dark-haired Betazoid release him. He studied her 
for an instant. Still alluring, he noted. They had thought to become involved 
at one time. It hadn't worked out. But deep friendship -- and mutual respect 
-- had remained.
   Years later, he met Jadzia. Everything changed.
   And he had no regrets. Absolutely none.
   "Sit, please," he said, moving on from his reverie.
   "You're drinking blood wine," Riker noted, holding a chair for Troi.
   Dax nodded. "A favorite of both of ours."
   "It's good to have common interests in a marriage," the counselor noted 
slyly.
   Work looked at his wife. "Indeed, it is ..."
   Dax smiled knowingly. "But tell me about yourselves," she said. "Worf has 
told me so much about his time on the Enterprise -- the Enterprise-D, I mean. 
He always spoke highly of you two, and Captain Picard, and all the others he 
knew."
   "It was a good time," Work said thoughtfully.
   "Well," Riker said, "the war with the Dominion keeps us busy. That's all 
we've done since we returned from the Borg attempt to alter Earth history."
   "Oh, yeah," Dax said eagerly. "Worf said you met Zefrem Cochrane."
   "Met him, hell!" Troi answered quickly with a smile. "I drank him under 
the table!"
   Worf lifted an eyebrow. "I never heard that part ..."
   "She had a hell of a hangover later ...," Riker noted.
   "Didn't know Betazoids could hold their liquor that well," Dax teased.
   Troi shrugged. "I'm half Betazoid, really. My father was a Starfleet 
officer. My mother is Betazoid."
   "That reminds me ...," Worf said warily, "what is the situation with ... 
your mother ...? Betazed was occupied by the Dominion ..." He saw Troi's 
expression fall slightly. "I apologize .. for bringing up the subject. My 
concern is genuine ..."
   "I know," the counselor said quietly. "Well, fortunately, my mother was 
off-world when the ... conquest ... came ... She was on a diplomatic mission 
at the time .."
   "Deanna's mother is the Betazoid ambassador to the Federation," Riker 
explained to Dax.
   The Trill nodded. "I see ... How are you and your mother dealing with the 
... situation ...?"
   Troi sighed. "We get by. I have faith that it will be freed from the 
Dominion. Look at the example of Bajor. My mother is deeply upset by it, 
though." She smiled. "She's a woman of deep feelings ..."
   "That," Worf said, "is an understatement. Your mother is most formidible. 
In her own way, she could constitute an entire second front."
   Troi chuckled. "You're right ..."
   A Ferengi came over to the table. He was dressed garishly. This made him a 
typical Ferengi, but even for  a Ferengi, he was dressed garishly. He carried 
an empty tray that he set down on the table with a flourish.
   "Hello," he said, flashing a disturbing toothy grin. "Name's Quark. This 
is my place." He eyed Troi. "Always an honor to have lovely ladies visit my 
humble establishment ..."
   "These are friends of mine, Quark," Worf growled. "Commander William T. 
Riker. Counselor Deanna Troi."
   Quark nodded at Riker. "Commander." He winked at Troi. "Couselor." Troi 
blushed.
   Worf bristled. "Take their orders, Quark, and leave ..."
   "And deprive myself of the ladies' fascinating company ...?"
   "Quark!"
   The Ferengi sighed. "All right, but I tell you something, Commander," he 
said in an exaggerated aside to Riker, "I don't know how this unpolished 
specimen" -- he indicated Worf -- "keeps attracting such beautiful women as 
these ..."
   Almost absently-mindedly, almost without looking, Worf's hand took Dax's 
on the table. It was as smooth as if they had been doing it all their lives. 
"If you have to ask, Quark ...," the unpolished specimen replied, "... you'll 
never know ..."

*******
   Kira looked out at the stars for a moment but didn't really see them. Then 
she closed her eyes and shook her head.
   "I don't like it," she said.
   Behind her, Odo shrugged. "If it makes you feel any better, Nerys," he 
said, "I don't like it, either."
   The Bajoran woman turned from the window in her quarters and faced the 
changeling, looking a little peeved. "No. It doesn't make me feel any better."
   "I'm ... sorry."
   "That's all you can say?"
   Odo thought. "What would you do if you got direct orders from the Council 
of Ministers?"
   Kira huffed. "Well, I'd be doing my damnedest to convince them that this 
whole thing stinks!"
   "I did," the security chief replied. "At least with Captains Sisko and 
Picard. In fact, both Worf and I told them it sounded like a Dominion trap. I 
told them how the female Founder wants me back in the Great Link and that I 
didn't trust anything she had anything to do with."
   "Well, we're agreed on that," Kira said heatedly. "What did the captains 
say?"
   Odo shrugged again. "They agreed with me."
   "Excuse me ...?"
   "They agreed it sounded like a trap."
   The redhead squinted in disbelief. "And they're going ahead with it, 
anyway?"
   "Apparently. They won't go in with their eyes closed, Nerys. They 
explained that to me, and I give them credit for it. But the Federation wants 
to pursue any chance to stop the fighting. And my presence on the Enterprise 
is supposedly a guarantee of its safety while it's in the Gamma Quadrant. If 
that alone is any protection for its crew, I accept the risk."
   Kira thought for a moment, her eyes calculating. "When do you have to go 
...?"
   "The Enterprise leaves at 0700 tomorrow."
   She nodded. "That gives me some time ..."
   The changeling was wary. "For what, exactly ...?"
   Kira approached him slowly, using her hands as if to draw a plan in the 
air. "I can contact the council on Bajor tonight." She saw his surprise. "I 
have friends there. You know that. Let me talk to them. I can convince them 
this is a bad idea. They'll listen to me. I can get your order to go revoked 
..."
   "No, Nerys."
   She stepped over and took his hands earnestly. "I want to. I can do this. 
Let me."
   "No."
   "Why not?"
   Odo sighed deeply and looked into Kira's brown eyes. "I won't ... hide ... 
behind your friendship to get out of this. That's not me ... You know that 
..."
   She shook her head. "I don't want you to go ... Please... This is wrong 
..."
   Odo drew the woman he loved next to him, letting her cradle her head on 
his chest. "Even if you got that order revoked ... I'd still go ... Nerys, 
they need me ..."
   From beneath his embrace, Kira said, "I need you ..."
   "I know ..."
   Silence. Then, softly, she said, "Hold me ..."
   The changeling's arms, legs and lower torso resolved into his natural 
brown gelatinous state. Slowly, it engulfed Kira below her waist.
   A little while later, her sobbing was muffled by his body.

*******

   Dax finished her blood wine, wiped her lips with a napkin and folded it 
neatly. "Well ... after a meal like that, I need to go to the little Trills' 
room. Join me, Counselor?"
   Troi nodded. "Right behind you."
   The women got up from the table. Before departing, Dax leaned over to 
Worf. "You boys be good while we're gone," she said playfully. Then, to cap 
it off, she gave Worf a peck on the cheek and left.
   The Klingon fumed. Riker chuckled across the table. "Short leash, Mr. 
Worf?" he asked.
   "Not really," Worf replied. "I am just not as comfortable with casual 
public displays of affection as Jadzia is."
   "You'll get used to it."
   "Hmm ..." Worf looked toward the females' restroom, which the two women 
had just disappeared into. He pondered a mystery. "Why do they always go in 
pairs?" 
   Riker paused from sipping his blue Romulan ale. "So they can talk about 
us, Mr. Worf.  So they can talk about us."
   "I ... had not considered that before ..."
   Riker took another sip, then put down his glass. "So you're back with us 
for a while. Good to have you aboard again."
   "Thank you, sir. It will be refreshing to be working with everyone from 
the Enterprise again." He paused to consider. "Not that I have any complaints 
about serving on the station."
   "I understand. We've kept up with your adventures here, Mr. Worf. We're 
all very proud of you."
   "Thank you, sir." Worf looked as thoughtful as a Klingon could, for a 
moment. "May I speak frankly, sir?" Riker, slightly surprised, nodded. "May I 
ask your opinion of our coming mission?"
   The Enterprise's first officer  sighed. "Well ... off the record, of 
course ..."
   "Of course ..."
   "... It stinks."
   Worf arched an eyebrow. "That is ... succinct ... sir."
   "But sincere, Mr. Worf. The mission sounds like a poorly planned trap to 
me."
   "I told Captain Picard as much earlier today. As did Constable Odo. The 
Dominion is trying to mask something in the noble words of seeking a truce. 
That is my warrior's feeling, sir."
   Riker nodded. "Which I've come to respect over the years. But we've come 
across traps before ..."
   "But not so far from home, and certainly not in the Dominion's own 
quadrant."
   Riker pointed almost playfully at Worf. "And that's why the captain 
requested your assistance. You know more about fighting in the Gamma Quadrant 
than anyone in Starfleet who's going."
   The Klingon again looked thoughtful, more or less. "Battle is battle, no 
matter where it  takes place, Commander."
   Riker smiled. "Yes, but we'll have you and another ace up our sleeves in 
the Gamma Quadrant when we go there."
   Work thought. "What is that?"
   Riker picked up his ale again and offered a toast. "Captain Jean-Luc 
Picard."
   The Klingon picked up his blood wine and returned the toast. "Captain 
Picard."

*******

   Dax studied her facial spots in the mirror, but her mind was elsewhere. "I 
know I accepted risks when I put on this uniform," she said to the other 
woman's reflection, "but it's never easy to watch someone you love go off on 
a mission like this." She sighed. "I feel so helpless sometimes ..."
   The other woman's reflection paused in fixing Troi's hair. "I know. But 
Worf has a deep sense of duty. I don't think you could keep him back, even if 
you wanted to."
   Dax looked at the counselor. "And I don't. He's been given an order. We 
both respect that."
   "Then ... you have to accept the possibilities of what might happen on 
this mission."
   The Trill shook her head. "Big order. I want Worf to be all right. There 
are possibilities ... I don't want to consider ..."
   Troi thought, then turned to Dax. "Then consider this: He's going on this 
mission under the command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. If Worf will have any 
good odds -- if any of us does -- of returning from this mission, it's 
because Picard is in the command chair."
   Dax considered it. "I've only heard ... of Picard's abilities. I don't 
know the man ..."
   Gently, Deanna put a hand on Jadzia's shoulder. "I know him," she said 
quietly. "I trust him with my life. And," she stressed the word, "I know that 
Worf does, too. He has ... on many occasions before you met him. And Worf is 
still alive, Lieutenant Commander. Think on that."
   Dax closed her eyes and sighed. "All right ...," she said softly at last, 
"thank you, counselor." She smiled at Troi. "Let's get back. Those two 
probably think we're gossiping about them by now ..."

*******

   Odo awoke with a start.
   Actually, he awoke with Kira.
   But that happened a lot of late, so that wasn't what startled him.
   It was the dream.
   Actually, it wasn't a dream. Not in the sense that solids knew.
   Odo looked over at the Bajoran woman, sleeping in a curled position next 
to him on a couch. Her lower half was still engulfed by his natural brown 
gelatinous form. The warm substance always caused her to drift off to sleep.
   She looked so peaceful, he thought.
   That was always a surprise to Odo. A tranquil expression on her sleeping 
face always seemed to contradict what her life had been: Refugee child. 
Freedom fighter. Commando. Military officer. Combat veteran.
   And then she could look like Peace itself when she slept.
   It always amazed him.
   But then, Kira always amazed him when they slept together.
   They had been intimate as their relationship developed. It wasn't a 
physical impossibility. Odo could assume whatever form pleased Kira.
   Usually, his regular humanoid form -- with the proper male accoutrements 
-- pleased her well enough, indeed.
   But that wasn't for tonight.
   Tonight was a calm before a storm. And there had been many such calms in 
the time they had pursued their relationship. Usually, Kira had to go off on 
a mission fraught with danger and the risk of death.
   In the hours beforehand, all she wanted was a warm embrace. Something to 
remind her why she was glad she was alive.
   And that Odo was alive for her, too.
   And that, partly, had to do with what shocked him awake.
   Odo didn't sleep, as the solids understood it. Every 16 hours, he had 
revert to his natural form to regenerate his organic being. Assuming any 
shape for longer than that stressed a changeling. The matrix started to break 
down. They started to die.
   So when Odo reverted to his natural state -- resolved, it was called -- 
the focus that his intelligence needed to maintain a form was released. He 
could wander.
   Wander among memories. It was how a changeling dreamed.
   Unlike those of humanoids, a "sleeping" changeling's mind couldn't 
free-associate images and memories into a new thought. All they could do was 
revisit memories. Examine them in detail. That was all.
   But the changelings -- the Founders -- has an immense store of memories. 
It was the essence of the Great Link: All the experiences of the changelings 
eventually were added to the communal mind.
   Odo had been in the Great Link once, when he, Sisko -- then a commander -- 
and Dr. Bashir had gone to his people's home world in the Gamma Quadrant. The 
experience was still with him: images, thoughts, feelings, states of being 
from countless changelings over time.
   That's what he had been exploring when ...
   Far, far back in the Great Link, he had come across an overlooked image. 
   Faint, forgotten -- like a faded ink drawing from centuries, millennia 
ago. Maybe longer.
   Maybe much, much longer ...
   It could have been the Founders' first memory. Odo didn't know. But it 
shocked him.
   Because it was familiar.
   Because he had just left the same image in the real world:
   A changeling -- no, not a Founder ... something different, but not quite 
-- was equated (that was the only word for it) with kindness for a humanoid 
female.
   A woman.
   No, more than that ...
   Kindness for women ...
   There was no context. Just a polymorphic being who was concerned for ...  
   Women ...
   Even that hadn't completely startled him. It was what happened next.
   Instantly -- suddenly, violently -- there was a shrill, shrieking cry from 
changelings to come. They shouted down the older image. They screamed almost 
insanely for it to go away.
   They said it was a lie.
   That it wasn't true.
   That it didn't happen.
   That it could never happen.
   How could it?
   Changeling and solid?
   A lie.
   Blasphemy.
   That was when Odo awoke with a start.
   It wasn't a dream, not as the solids knew them. Images in the Great Link 
were historic record. They were fact.
   So what did that ancient image mean ...?
   Odo looked down again at the sleeping woman beside him. Closed-eyed, Kira 
breathed lightly, the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips. 
   And he wondered ...
   ... for the first time:
   Was this moment ...
   ... polymorph and solid joined ...
   Was it so unusual -- as even he and Kira thought ...?
   He watched his sleeping love.
   Maybe not ...

*******

   0630.
   The corridor to Upper Pylon C was busy. Starfleet personnel were 
everywhere, carrying everything. No one seemed to notice that it was morning. 
They were too busy making departure preparations.
   A starship getting to ready to leave a space station was a demanding 
thing. It had 10,000 things to get done before it left. In that, the 
Enterprise was no different from any other ship in the fleet.
   But only in that.
   "Captain Picard!"
   Picard looked up from the PADD he was reading. Sisko was coming down the 
airlock corridor, a small white container in one hand. Picard smiled at him. 
"Benjamin! You're up early."
   Sisko offered the container to Picard. "How could I sleep? You forgot your 
lunch."
   "Lunch ...?" Picard squinted in puzzlement. Then his eyes lit up. "The 
shrimp creole! From last night!"
   "My father's finest recipe. Consider it a thank-you for the 2206 burgundy 
you gave Jake and me at  dinner."
   "Enjoy the wine with my compliments." Picard opened the container and 
sniffed. "This is wonderful, Ben. Thank you."
   Sisko extended a hand. "Good luck on your mission, Captain. To you and the 
crew."
   Picard shook hands. "Thank you. I meant what I said about bringing Worf 
and Odo back in one piece. They'll return to you, I promise."
   "Your word is good enough for me. Oh ... one last thing ... something I 
started feeling .. in a dream ... last night ..."
   "Oh?"
   "Yes. I'm not ... a follower of Bajoran religion, of course ... but I 
started to feel  ... that I wanted to make sure I said ... 'May the Prophets 
guide you.' "
   "A blessing from the Emissary of the Prophets of Bajor. I'm honored. Thank 
you ... and them ..."
   "Then," Sisko replied, "I'll see you in about two weeks, Jean-Luc."
   Picard nodded. "The Prophets willing."

*******

   0640.
   Worf and Dax were just outside the airlock leading into the Enterprise.
   Kissing. Deeply.
   A steady stream of busy people passed them. Maybe the couple noticed.
   But the fact was, they didn't.
   They parted lips and held each other at the waist. Dax looked up at her 
husband. "Come back to me," she said softly.
   "I shall," Worf answered. "You will be with me in my heart, even in 
battle."
   "And you in mine." Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Qapla', 
my love ..."
   "Qapla'," he said. "Success ..."
   They let go. Worf turned purposefully toward the starship and walked away. 
Dax stood where she was, watching him leave.
   Just inside the Enterprise, within sight of the airlock corridor, a voice 
stopped the Klingon. "Commander Worf!"
   Worf turned toward the sound and was greeted by a pair of eyes.
   Golden eyes.
   Pale-gold skin. Dark hair.
   Data.
   "Commander!" Worf called as the android walked toward him. "It is good to 
see you again!"
   "Welcome aboard. It's a pleasant surprise to bump into you," Data said, 
extending a hand. Handshakes were one of his more favorite socialization 
skills. He was expecting a humanlike hand clasp, but Worf grabbed his forearm 
near his elbow -- a Klingon warrior's greeting.
   "Thank you, sir," Worf said, feeling Data's grasp on his forearm. The 
android always learned quickly. "I look forward to working with you again."
   "And I you. I hope you will refamiliarize yourself with the Enterprise's 
tactical and weapons systems as soon as you can."
   "I will, sir." The Klingon sighed and looked around. "It is good to be 
here again ..."
   Then, slowly, he turned back toward the airlock corridor. Dax was still 
standing there. With a final smile and a tiny wave, she wheeled around and 
walked off.
   Worf watched until she disappeared.
   "But," he added -- to no one in particular, "it will be better to get back 
..."
   
******* 

   0650.
   "Promise me."
   Odo sighed. "Of course, I do ..."
   "Then say it," Kira insisted.
   The constable -- self-conscious in the busy airlock corridor -- closed his 
eyes and shook his head in resignation. "I promise you," he started, then 
looked again at her, "that I will resist any desire to return to the Great 
Link ..."
   "Even if that female Founder tries to lure you back in."
   Odo rolled his eyes and recited it: "Even if the female Founder tries to 
lure me back in ..."
   After a pause, Kira smiled slyly and draped her arms around his neck. 
"There," she said playfully, "that wasn't too painful, now, hmm ...?"
   Odo took her by the waist. "No," he admitted with a smile, "it wasn't."
   They kissed.
   Then they held each other tighter.
   "Come back to me ...," Kira said quietly.
   "I will ... You're the future to me ..."
   Then -- for reasons he didn't fully understand himself -- he said:
   "... And you're my past ..."
   Kira looked up at him. "... Huh ...?"
   Odo looked at the humanoid female -- the woman -- in his polymorphic 
changeling arms. "It's something from a ... dream ... Just a  ... feeling ..."
   He re-embraced her, and Kira forgot her confusion.
   What she was feeling now was all she understood. And all she wanted to.

*******  
   
   0700.
   "Enterprise, this is Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax. Docking clamps are 
released. You are cleared for departure from Upper Pylon C."
   "Thank you. Enterprise out."
   As the lift moved Kira into sight in Ops, the main screen switched to the 
pylon that the Enterprise had been moored at. The starship's thrusters shot 
tiny points of blue as they moved it slowly from Deep Space Nine.
   Kira stepped off the lift. She noticed that Captain Sisko was standing in 
front of his office, arms crossed. He was watching the screen intently.
   So was Dax. Kira joined her at the center console. Almost unthinkingly, 
the Bajoran woman put a hand on Dax's shoulder. The Trill looked at her and 
smiled, grateful for the token of support.
   On the screen, the Enterprise's impulse engine glowed red, and the ship 
moved away. Video tracked it as it moved toward the region of the wormhole. 
Soon, the ship was only a tiny image of itself. 
   And then, as always, it happened:
   Space, with an almost-flowery burst, opened up with a flash.
   Like a shower of light.
   Then, amid the swirl of energy, a tiny speck -- a starship called 
Enterprise -- flew into the vortex.
   It was gone.
   And immediately after that, so was the wormhole.
   The two women at the console watched the starry screen silently. Very 
shortly thereafter, the sound of office doors opening broke their reverie. 
They turned in time to see Capt. Sisko's form enter his office before the 
doors closed behind him. 
   Kira and Dax looked back at each other.  
   "I'll ... say a prayer for Worf tonight ...," Kira said. 
   Dax nodded. "And I'll say one ... for Odo ..."
   With that, Kira patted her friend on the back, smiled and turned to leave. 
As she climbed the stairs to the lift, she looked back at the screen.
    "May the Prophets guide you," she said softly.

TO BE CONTINUED