by Olivia Woods
There seemed to be a collective intake of breath as everyone in ops turned their attention toward the screen, and Nog realized he probably should have mentioned that there would be nothing out of the ordinary to mark this historic bridging of parallel universes. At first, there was only a prolonged and quite unremarkable curtain of static cascading within the oval imaging area of the holoframe. By the third minute, Quark was beginning to fidget. “Is it supposed to be taking this long?”
“Sshhh!” Nog hissed, mainly because he didn’t have an answer. As far as he knew, nobody had ever done this before; there were no precedents against which to judge how well it was working.
Nog’s eyes widened with hope when he saw a humanoid upper body beginning to take shape within the static, but his spirits promptly fell when the static intensified again. “Selzner, can you clean that up?”
“Trying, sir…”
The silhouette returned, more defined this time. There was a squawk on the audio, fragmented and faint: “…lo?…entify…rself…”
“Did you hear that?” Nog asked excitedly.
Only Uncle Quark nodded; the voice was obviously still too unintelligible for non-Ferengi ears, but Nog’s confidence soared. This was going to work!
“It’s a female,” Quark said, confirming Nog’s own impression.
Slowly the image resolved. Not completely; streams of static threatened constantly to break up the signal, but it cleared up enough for everyone watching to know that they were seeing an exact duplicate of the ops situation table. The figure who stood behind it, staring back at them openmouthed, was also familiar.
Quark shot a look to Dax that said I told you so, but the lieutenant was too transfixed by the sight of herself in the holoframe. Longer hair, dark civilian clothes, and a pair of Klingon disruptors strapped to either hip, the alternate Ezri stared back at the contact team, her blue-shadowed eyes narrowing as she focused on Quark, who was giving her an awkward smile.
“Oh, no…not you.”
Never taking his eyes off the screen, Nog turned his head slightly toward his uncle and spoke out the corner of his mouth. “She doesn’t look too happy to see you.”
In Bashir’s estimation, their opening conversation with the alternates went fairly well.
Ezri’s idea to assemble a contact team with, as Quark had astutely noted, “the dead people” achieved its desired effect. Helped along by a few persuasive words from Captain Sisko, the alternate Ezri-Ezri Tigan, Bashir reminded himself, recalling that this Trill was unjoined-quickly, albeit reluctantly, accepted who it really was that was speaking to her.
As more rebels from Terok Nor appeared at Tigan’s side, Bashir was struck with mixed emotions. He was relieved to see Smiley still alive and well, albeit visibly careworn with the burdens of leading his rebellion against the Alliance. The doctor even smiled when the alternate O’Brien introduced his first officer, Keiko Ishikawa. Bashir studied the pair’s body language carefully as they stood side-by-side, suspecting their relationship extended well beyond the professional. It lifted Bashir’s spirits to think that it might.
Soul mates in any universe, he mused, carefully reining in the impulse to cast a wistful glance at Ezri Dax.
Reassuring as he found it to see Miles and Keiko together and serving the cause of freedom, Bashir wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Smiley’s next two lieutenants, Michael Eddington and Luther Sloan, who seemed to regard the doctor across the dimensional gulf with the same uncertainty. Sisko had once told him that Bashir’s counterpart had been something of a brute; a hot-tempered fighter with quite a vicious streak. Julian was forced to concede that if he himself could turn out so differently on the other side, then surely these men, both of whose faces conjured unpleasant memories of treachery, manipulation, and subterfuge, might be equally unlike the Sloan and Eddington he had known.
It wasn’t until Captain Kira and Operative Ghemor joined the conversation that they finally got down to business. Bashir found it interesting that the rebels hadn’t known of Ghemor’s crossover until this moment; the Cardassian had never returned from her mission to Bajor, weeks prior, and there had evidently been some speculation that she’d been captured or killed. She quickly offered the rebels scraps of personal information about several of them to prove her identity, and then went on to explain the dire and convoluted circumstances that had led to her disappearance.
“Iliana, I’m not sure how much of this I can believe,” Smiley told her. “You’re telling me that the Intendant may already be dead, but not really because your own counterpart may have taken her place in order to fulfill some Bajoran religious prediction?”
“I realize it’s a lot to take in,” Ghemor said, “and I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to report back. But you have to understand that I was trying to combat an outside threat not just to the rebellion, but to the entire balance of power in our universe. If this woman succeeds in doing what she intends, Bajor will follow her like some kind of messiah. She could even start a damn holy war within the Alliance.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Tigan remarked.
“It would be,” Ishikawa said. “A war like that would devastate the region. People like us would be its first victims.”
“The faithful versus the infidels,” Eddington agreed. “With a madwoman calling the shots.”
“You see now why we felt the need to warn you,” Kira said. “General O’Brien, I also have a stake in seeing this woman stopped. She’s proved herself a threat on our side as well as yours. My people and I stand ready to assist you.”
“I appreciate the offer, Captain,” Smiley said. “And I accept. You can start by explaining exactly where…What the bloody hell-?”
Bashir could hear alerts going off on Terok Nor, automated tones that sounded identical to the tripping of DS9’s long-range proximity sensors. The rebels sprang into action: Tigan and Sloan immediately rushed off camera, presumably to their stations, while the others read incoming data off the situation table.
“We’ve got multiple warp signatures on approach vectors,” Keiko reported. “Looks like Klingons. ETA, two minutes.”
“Raise shields,” Smiley ordered. “Charge all weapons and prepare for planetary bombardment. I want a torpedo lock on Ashalla in the next thirty seconds.”
Bashir’s mouth dropped open. Did he really just hear Smiley order preparations to attack the Bajoran capital?
The doctor looked at Kira and saw that the captain was as shocked as he was. “General, what are you doing?”
“What I warned them I’d do, Captain.”
“You can’t attack Bajor,” Kira said. “Millions of innocent lives-“
“Captain…ow do you think we’ve managed…hold Terok Nor all this time?” Smiley asked. “It’s by…nvincing the Alliance tha…ushed me too far, Bajor wou…fer the…nsequen…” A new curtain of static was falling over the comlink.
“Nog, he’s breaking up!” Kira shouted. “Do something!”
The engineer was already back at his station. “I’m trying! Something’s interfering with the signal lock, overriding the link…. Wait, I think I’ve got it back…”
Bashir looked at the holoframe. The signal was clearing, but not in the way any of them had hoped.
A face identical to Kira’s filled the screen, a thin smile spreading across it, her forehead adorned with the silver headpiece of the Intendant. “Well, hello…Captain. What an unexpected surprise. And how clever of you to have devised a way to communicate with Terok Nor. You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you alive.”
Kira glared at Iliana. “I sincerely doubt that.”
“Oh, believe me, I wasn’t happy to learn what Taran’atar had done to you. That was a task I’d reserved for myself. It’s actually reassuring to know I get to come back for you…once I’m done here, of course.”
“You won’t succeed,” Kira vowed.
“Of course I will. Haven’t you heard? I walk with the Prophets.” She brought h
er hand into view and gave Kira a taunting little wave. Around her palm was an ornate gold band with a green jewel in the center-the same one Bashir had seen in Sidau village eight years ago. Then the comlink abruptly ended, leaving only static.
Kira turned to Nog. “Can you get Terok Nor back?”
Nog shook his head as he wrestled his console. “I can’t get through. It’s like there’s an expanding wall between us and the alternate universe, blocking my attempts to reestablish contact.”
“A shield?”
“I don’t know, maybe. Or it could be a scattering field. Whatever it is, the effect is spreading.”
“Can we beam across?”
“Not a chance.” Nog studied his instruments. “Not to Terok Nor, anyway. But maybe…”
“What?”
Nog looked up at her. “If I’m reading this right, the field hasn’t overtaken their Bajor yet. I may be able to beam over two people now, if we act fast.”
“Two,” Quark scoffed. “What good would that do?”
“More than sending nobody would,” Dax said. “I volunteer, Captain.”
“Your attitude is commendable, Lieutenant, but last I checked, I’m the only member of this crew who can pass for the Intendant, and we may need to take advantage of that.” Kira looked at Ghemor and spoke quickly. “That enclave you told me about-where?”
“Vekobet,” Ghemor said, “in Kendra Valley. I can guide you.”
Kira nodded and the two of them started toward the transporter stage.
“No,” Vaughn said suddenly, stepping forward. “Captain, take me instead. You don’t need a guide. You need someone who has your back.”
Kira hesitated. Bashir wondered what was going through her mind as she met Vaughn’s gaze. Finally she said, “All right, Commander. You’re with me.”
Ghemor started to protest. “Captain-“
“I’m sorry, Ghemor, but he’s right. Nog, I don’t want to alarm the locals by beaming directly into Vekobet. Can you put us down somewhere isolated?”
“I think so. I have to use what we know about our own Kendra Valley for reference, and hope that the site I pick will be a close match for the other side.”
“A rocky hilltop might do the trick,” Bashir suggested. “Or some other natural formation that has stood the test of time.”
“Akorem’s Rock,” Sisko said suddenly. “It’s a bare slab of granite jutting out of a hill a couple of hours’ walk from Vekobet. The locals tell me it’s been unchanged for centuries.”
Nog nodded. “I’ve got it. The interference is getting stronger. We’ve got only a few more seconds.”
Vaughn handed Kira a phaser and the two of them mounted the transporter stage. Kira nodded to Dax. “Take care of our station, Ezri. Mister Nog, energize.”
Sisko watched as the curtain of light enveloped his friends, and for long seconds he stared into the empty air they left behind. He was vaguely aware that ops had erupted into a frantic flurry of activity, with Dax issuing a yellow alert and ordering Bowers to implement whatever safeguards he’d come up with to protect the station from transdimensional incursions, then tasking Nog with trying to reestablish his comlink and transporter lock with the other side. Bashir and Quark were heading for a turbolift, the Ferengi ambassador shaking his head at the turn of events, muttering something under his breath.
And there in the corner of his eye was Ghemor, watching Sisko intently, as if she somehow knew that something secret had transpired here. Had she seen the look Vaughn had given him before the transporter effect had taken the commander? How much did she suspect?
“Benjamin?” Dax said. “You okay?”
Sisko shook himself. “It’s time for me to go,” he told her.
Dax blinked. “All right. I can have Ensign Lankford take you back to Bajor in a runabout-“
“That’s not necessary,” Sisko said. “You have enough to deal with without giving up a runabout and a pilot for a milk run. I’ll get passage aboard the afternoon ferry.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” Sisko said.
“Well…thanks for all your help.”
Sisko waved away her gratitude. He certainly didn’t feel he deserved it. “You’ve got good instincts, Old Man. Trust them.”
“I will,” Dax said. “Thanks again.”
Sisko continued to feel Ghemor’s eyes on his back as he headed for the turbolift, wondering if she truly understood what he had done.
9
EIGHTEEN HOURS EARLIER
Despite the urgency of purpose with which Sisko strode through the habitat ring, he found he couldn’t help thinking back on his conversation with Kira that morning. When he’d left her office, Nerys still seemed to be grappling with what Sisko had said regarding Taran’atar. He didn’t envy the decisions she would need to make in the days ahead, but he’d done what he could; he had tried to offer her a glimmer of hope. The rest was up to her.
Reaching his destination, Sisko heard the faint sounds of music wafting through the door. When his finger touched the chime, the music stopped. He wished there was another way to accomplish his task, but it had been made clear to him during his encounter with the Orb of Souls: for now, he could only influence; others would need to act.
The door slid open, and Vaughn faced him across the threshold, out of uniform, his red division shirt open at the neck. “Captain. This is a surprise. Is everything all right?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Commander. May I come in?”
“Of course.” Vaughn stepped aside, allowing Sisko to enter. Ben noticed a stringed musical instrument resting on a large padded chair, the arm of which also held Vaughn’s discarded jacket. “Please sit down.” Vaughn indicated the couch opposite the chair. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Sisko said, moving toward the sitting area. He picked up the instrument, delighted by the look and feel of it.
“Here you go,” Vaughn said, returning with an open bottle of Saurian brandy in one hand and two half-filled tumblers in the other. He held out the glasses to Sisko, who took one of them as he gently set the instrument aside. Vaughn placed the bent-neck bottle on the coffee table between them as the two men sat down, and then raised his glass. “Ad astra.”
With a smile, Sisko echoed the old academy toast as they clinked glasses and drank. The brandy burned smoothly as it went down. Sisko’s gaze returned to the instrument. “Acoustic guitar?”
Vaughn nodded. “I find it relaxing.”
“Hand-crafted or replicated?”
“Replicated, unfortunately. It’s not an instrument you hear much of these days, and the real ones are hard to find. Most of them are in private collections.” Vaughn took another sip of brandy. “What’s your instrument?”
“Piano,” Sisko said. “My father has one, back on Earth. I grew up with it. How long have you played?”
“A little over twenty-six years. I took it up not long after Prynn was born. Whenever I could make it home, I’d play for her. Nothing serious, just a few songs she seemed to enjoy.”
The image of Vaughn playing melodies for his daughter made Sisko smile. “How is Prynn?”
“She’s recovered, thank you for asking. No lasting injuries.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I read her report on what she went through. You should be proud of her.”
“I am, sir. Thank you.”
Silence settled between them. Vaughn had to know that Sisko hadn’t come to his quarters merely for drinks and small talk, but he apparently sensed Ben’s reluctance and wasn’t going to press the issue until his guest felt ready. It was a courtesy Sisko appreciated.
Sisko set down his unfinished brandy and leaned forward, folding his hands in his lap. “Elias, you know that I’m still on temporary leave from Starfleet, so what I’m about to say can’t be viewed as an order. Nevertheless, I’ve become aware of an aspect to our current situation that needs to be dealt with, and I’m here to ask you to see the matter
through.”
“I’d be more than happy to help you any way I can, Captain, but I guess you haven’t heard the news,” Vaughn said. “I’ve been relieved of duty.”
“I’m aware of the situation. But your captain is going to need you soon, whether she realizes it or not. This thing with the alternate universe is coming to a head, and however it plays out between you two, eventually Kira’s going to decide that making another crossover is unavoidable. When that happens, you need to be ready to act.”
Vaughn blinked, clearly unsure about what to make of what he was being told.
“Obviously, this isn’t an official assignment,” Sisko went on. “It’s off the record, extremely sensitive, and risky…and it requires a leap of faith on your part. You should therefore consider it completely voluntary.”
“What’s the op?”
“In a nutshell, I need you to locate my counterpart and convince him to find the wormhole so he can fulfill the prophecy of the Emissary for that continuum.”
To his credit, Vaughn managed not to choke on his brandy. “My understanding was that your counterpart died years ago.”
“Some…intelligence has come my way to suggest he faked his death in order to escape the responsibility of leading the Terran rebellion, and that he’s been in hiding on the alternate Bajor ever since.”
“I see,” Vaughn said. “I don’t suppose I could have access to this intel?”
“It…isn’t that kind of intelligence,” Sisko told him.
“I guess that’s where the leap of faith comes in.” Vaughn set down his glass. “All right. In that case, can I assume that the successful completion of this mission will neutralize Iliana Ghemor as a threat?”
“No. But it may minimize the damage she does.”
Vaughn’s face became etched with concern. “But if your counterpart fulfills his destiny, the Bajor of that continuum is likely to be profoundly affected.”
“Yes.”
“It sounds like I’m going to be effecting a fundamental change in the development of that universe.”
“That’s where the ‘off the record’ part comes in,” Sisko said. “It turns out that I was supposed to have accomplished this some time ago. The increased…permeability between the two universes in recent years was supposed to facilitate my influencing the other Sisko, help him to discover who he really is, so that he could begin the process of healing his Bajor and preparing it to face its future. But because I never considered our crossovers within the context of my own evolving understanding of my role as Emissary, a madwoman now has an opportunity to pull the whole structure down.”
