Chapter 1

"Doctor Bashir!"

The woman's clear words rang out in the narrow corridor. Julian turned at the unexpected voice and recognized its owner almost immediately. She was the medic drafted to give him and Jake a tour of the Nightingale yesterday after they pulled away from DS9, and she had been in Sickbay for a few hours this morning.

Something close to apprehension tugged at the back of his mind as he saw her. She was also, he couldn't help but realize, the young Asian woman from his dream. Many of the details of the nightmare had faded back into his subconscious in the hours since he'd woken, but he remembered her clearly - one girl against millions of wounded.

But now she was jogging down the corridor to catch up to him, an open, friendly smile on her face. Bashir didn't really want company at the moment, but his manners asserted themselves before he could convince them not to. Stifling a sigh, he smiled slightly back and slowed down to let her approach.

"I was hoping I'd run into you," she said cheerfully, falling into step beside him. "Headed for the mess hall?"

"Um - yes, yes I was, Lieutenant...." Bashir searched his memory for her name but only managed to recall visions of the woman sinking to her death.

"Kato," she offered wryly, making a face at the formality. "Just call me Aya, or you'll make me nervous. No one calls me Lieutenant Kato unless I've done something wrong."

"Of course -- Aya," he responded automatically, mentally scolding himself for letting anything distract him. Determinedly, he studied her features to make sure he'd never misplace that bit of knowledge again. Aya Kato. Made sense - she looked Japanese. True to her ethnicity, she had black slanted eyes and a moon-shaped face.

Not quite as true to her ethnicity, her short straight hair was exactly as he remembered it--a vibrant, fiery red. It was no wonder such a distinct feature had stuck in his mind.

Aya must have taken the look on his face for curiosity. Obviously she was used to the reaction. With a mischievous tilt of her head, the bright strands fell slightly across her face. "Pigment implants," she explained to his unspoken question. "Practically nanoscopic. Two or three treatments to the follicles and the hair starts coming out of your head this way."

Bashir gave her a puzzled look. "Isn't that a bit against regulations?"

She snorted. "Yes, well, the Nightingale's patrolled behind the front lines for almost the last two years of the war. I haven't been anywhere near Starfleet HQ in ages, and I don't think they'll be keeping tabs on one medic on board one battered little med ship."

"The captain must love that philosophy," he replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, Captain Westfall is used to me by now," Aya laughed. "I had to do something to keep my mood up around here, and I guess he figured that anything to boost morale was worth bending the rules a bit." Then she gave him a coy look and tossed her head. "Besides, don't you think it suits me?"

Bashir considered her playful attitude from the past few moments and had to admit it did.

"Thought so," she grinned. "You know, you should give it a try."

Bashir's eyebrows shot up. "Me?"

"Well, sure," she said, making a "picture frame" with her thumbs and forefingers and eyeing him critically through it. "I'll bet you'd look great with blonde hair. Can you picture it?"

He could. "You've got to be kidding."

She laughed gleefully. "Trust me, I am."

Finally giving in to her teasing, he laughed along with her and shook his head as they turned the corner of the corridor and headed into the mess hall. "That's good. You had me worried."

The doors of the mess hall swept open with a polite hiss, revealing the pleasant chatter of the midday meal. It certainly wasn't as large or luxurious as similar halls on board the Enterprise or the other larger class vessels, but all things considered it was comfortable and inviting, which was undoubtedly welcome on such a small, crowded vessel. There weren't any empty tables where he could sit alone, Bashir noticed as he scanned the room.

And even if there were, it looked like Aya would have none of it.

"Come on," she said, tugging at his elbow. "A few important people from your team are here, if you want to meet them."

"Now?" His attention perked up and he glanced around again, trying to figure out who among the crowd he'd be working closely with.

"Sure," Aya said, pulling him toward one corner of the room. "We've been organizing our reports and trying to figure out details for about a week now, and a few of us go back a ways. So we've just been waiting for you. We make an interesting group, I'll say that much. Right this way, Doctor.... "

"Thank you." Again, his reply was a bit vague as he gathered up his nerve. Taking on responsibility of this "interesting group" was going to be a huge step.

And again, Aya didn't miss his distraction. She paused for a second and flashed him a teasing grin. "This would be the point where you say 'Oh, please, call me....'"

"Julian," he said, shaking off his pensive mood with a laugh. "You certainly aren't wasting any time, are you?"

Aya responded with a melodramatic gesture. "This is all the time I have - we may only be together for a few short weeks!" Then she laughed and shook her head. "Seriously, though. I've read up on your work. Your breakthroughs in biomolecular replication had its own course of study back at Starfleet Med. I can't wait to get a first-hand account."

Bashir chuckled. "Well, I guess it's good to know I'm well known in some areas, at least." He glanced at her curiously. "Biomolecular replication is a pretty specialized field. You're a microbiologist?"

Aya grew a bit more serious, nodding. "Yep. And newly appointed disease expert, from the looks of things. Looks like I'll be getting some pretty heavy experience."

Won't we all. But he shook the thought away, squaring his shoulders. Time to make a good first impression.

"Anyway," Aya said, brushing the mood aside as well, "let me show you around. Captain Westfall is arranging a luncheon tomorrow, so he can introduce you to all the higher-ups you'll be working with. Still," and she made a wry face, "I wouldn't trust his interpretation of any of us, if you expect to work with us and retain your sanity."

That being said, she tossed her hair away from her face and led him over to a few small tables in the corner of the room. She moved quickly, making it a bit hard to keep up, but it wasn't like he was going to lose her red head in the crowd. Aya sidestepped a few people near the replicator and made her way to a table where two people were seated. She leaned down to place her hand on the shoulder of a young Bolian male whose bright blue skin made him stand out as much as she did.

"Hey, look who I found, guys," she said playfully, giving the Bolian's head a teasing shove. "I want you both to meet Dr. Julian Bashir. We've all heard about him enough...."

The young man turned around to meet Bashir's eyes with his own startling blue ones. "Dr. Bashir," he said amiably, reaching out to shake his hand. "Ensign Vak. Glad you could finally show up."

"Glad to be here, Ensign," Bashir replied. He gave the middle-aged Human woman at the table a quick glance, noting the pips on her collar, before giving her the warmest smile he could muster. "Lieutenant Commander...."

"Emily Hart." The woman's eyes held a frank, honest gaze; she looked trim, efficient, with short graying hair falling neatly across her forehead. She nodded politely as she took his hand. "I'm sorry about all the confusion getting you assigned here, Doctor. We did the best we could to get things arranged."

"Not a problem, sir," Bashir replied automatically. "I'm just glad you had room for me."

She nodded again in response, then regarded him closely for a moment and offered a small smile. "You worked with Miles O'Brien on Deep Space Nine. Before he signed on with the Academy."

Julian brightened, startled at the connection between the two of them. "Miles? Of course! How do you know him?"

Her smile widened a bit. "Oh, he's an old friend of the family. He and my husband Robert were in the same unit during the Cardassian wars and got on famously. Miles and I still keep in touch, when we can; he's mentioned you a few times."

"Mostly positive, I hope?" Bashir grinned. He could only imagine how O'Brien would describe him, especially in the early years.

"Well, mostly," Hart said, laughing in earnest this time. She had a pleasant laugh, Bashir noted; he relaxed a little.

Aya touched his arm to regain his attention, waving a hand toward Hart and Vak. "These two are the engineering buffs on the Nightingale," she explained. "Em's been Chief of Operations here for at least five years and manages to keep the ship running, to say the very least. And Vak...." She gave him another teasing look. "Well, he just likes to take the computer apart and put it back together, more or less. He's really just a medic like me."

Vak smirked. "I'll remember that the next time you want your little holodeck programs upgraded free of charge, Aya."

Hart shook her head with a patient sigh, not bothering to look up from the PADD she was reading. "Now, children...."

Bashir grinned at their banter. "Well, if I ever need anything fixed in the next few weeks, I guess I'll know where to look."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Aya frowned a bit and rolled her eyes slightly as she glanced around. "One more person you should start off on the right foot with, if that's at all possible.... " Finally she seemed to locate the person she was searching for, a few tables over. Pulling Bashir with her, she approached a stout Human male in a Starfleet uniform that seemed too tight, seated by himself, studying a report with determined concentration.

"Hey, there, Teddy!" Aya's voice was drippingly sweet, and Bashir found himself faced with a sudden mental image of Kukalaka, his stuffed bear, sitting patiently on top of the dresser back home. Which, of course, contrasted ridiculously with the huge, muscular man seated in front of him. The effect was disarmingly entertaining, and briefly, he wondered if Aya had done that on purpose.

The man (a commander, likely a security officer, Bashir noted) glanced up at her and visibly repressed a scowl. "Lieutenant."

Aya rolled her eyes again and poked Bashir with one elbow. "Okay, so almost nobody calls me Lieutenant Kato," she said wryly. "Sir, I would like you to meet Dr. Julian Bashir. Doctor, this is Commander Theodore Blake - he'll be heading up the security team on Cardassia."

"Such as it is," Blake said, not looking up. "We don't have very much to work with."

"I'm sorry about that, sir," Bashir said quickly. "We'll do the best we can." It was hard to summon a smile in response to that welcome, but he managed to pull one off, extending a hand. "Glad to meet you."

Blake took several long seconds to look up from his report to the hand Bashir offered, and took even longer in taking it. Then he sat back to glance the doctor up and down, and smiled evenly. "Bashir. Yeah, I've heard of you. Starfleet's mutant doctor."

Immediately, Bashir's demeanor went from friendly to very, very polite. "Have you, sir?"

"Oh, yes," Blake replied with an overdone cheerfulness. "We all have. Articles about you are all over the place. This should be interesting, working together out here." He flicked a sly glance toward Bashir. "Don't you think?"

"Not exactly the word I would use, with all due respect, Commander, " Bashir noted coolly.

Beside him, Aya cleared her throat, trying to dispel the tension in the air. "Well, Dr. Bashir and I probably need to go over a few details concerning one of the clinics - if you'll excuse us, sir...."

He nodded minimally. "Very well. I will see you both at the meeting at 1300 hours tomorrow." And he fixed his gaze back on his report, effectively shutting them out.

Bashir didn't have any qualms about turning quickly away, shutting Blake out in equal measure. No matter how often he'd steeled himself against it, snide comments about his resequencing never failed to get under his skin. Especially when delivered with just the right combination of sarcasm and condescension that Blake had seemed to master.

Aya seemed to read his thoughts as she directed him back to the table where Hart and Vak were seated. She touched his shoulder lightly and leaned close to him for a moment, under the pretense of letting an ensign with a crowded lunch tray squeeze past them. "This from a man that looks like a genetically enhanced grizzly."

Julian thought back to Blake's bear-like face and covered an abrupt laugh with a cough, suddenly feeling much better.

*****

Jake Sisko could see an almost translucent image of a woman. He had a vaguely distorted view of her medium-sized body, red uniform, brown hair, hanging in front of his sight like a ghost. She flew up to meet him, filling his vision, closer and closer....

At the last second she looked up, gasped, and ducked. "Hey! Watch where you're going with that thing!"

"Sorry!" He ran past her, laughing gleefully. He hadn't done much of that for a long time, and it felt good. Up ahead, he saw various personnel dodging to get out of the way from two different perspectives as he followed his new camera equipment, fiddling with the control console mounted on his outer forearm. The three small spheres of sensitive lenses, sensors, and microphones zipped ahead, broadcasting everything they saw back to his arm console, which in turn sent images and sounds to the contacts in his eyes and the small receiver in his ear. He could still see where he was going. It was all a matter of shifting focus between the transparent images and the world around him. Trying not to get dizzy or disoriented as he moved was the tricky part - he'd had unfortunate encounters with a few officers and bulkheads during his first attempt - but he was beginning to get the hang of it. Jake pressed a few buttons, causing one of the lenses to turn and zoom in on the shocked face of some ensign it had almost run over. This is great!

One of the spheres transmitted an image of the door to the mess hall, and Jake slowed to a jog. Maybe I can grab an orange juice or something, if it isn't too busy.... The door opened automatically, but a little too soon for it to be responding to him. He wasn't aware of the two people walking out the door until he was bumping right into Dr. Bashir.

"Careful!" Bashir said, startled. Jake grabbed his arm to steady them both, and had a disorienting moment of double vision as one of his cameras whizzed close enough to ruffle the red hair of the doctor's cute companion.

"Sorry." Jake gave them a sheepish smile and reined his cameras in to hover close around him.

The doctor plucked one of them out of the air and examined it, the sphere fitting easily into his palm. Jake deactivated the contact lenses before Bashir's looming hand could encompass his vision. "What have you been up to?"

Lt. Kato loudly cleared her throat. Bashir took the hint and waved his free hand in her direction. "Jake, you remember Aya."

"Yes, of course. Hello again, Lt. Kato." He offered his hand.

She shook it, dark eyes sparkling. "Aya. Call me Aya."

Jake turned back toward Bashir to answer his question. "Remember when I got tired yesterday and left you two to your tour?"

"Tired? As I recall, you were bored to death," Aya answered first, with a laugh. "I guess I spent too much time showing Julian our preparations in the infirmary and cargo bays?"

"Kinda." Jake shrugged. "No offense."

"None taken," she smiled.

Jake turned back to Bashir. "Well anyway, on my way to my quarters, I ran into Lt. Lausten...."

"Oh, Trey!" A wide grin spread across Aya's face. "Yeah, he's new to the mission too. How'd you like him?"

"Great." Jake tried not to look annoyed. I'm trying to talk to Dr. Bashir. Whose conversation is this? "We were both kinda bored, so we killed some time replicating those." He pointed to the camera in Bashir's hand. "And this." Jake displayed the lightweight console strapped to his forearm, pressing a couple of buttons on it. The captive sphere wriggled and Bashir released it, letting it fly back to Jake in peace.

"Oh, one of Trey's toys -- you'll have fun with that." Aya rolled her eyes slightly, then gave Jake a knowing glance. "Well, it's been fun. But I really do have some work to do, Julian. Dr. Ptacek and I will see you later on in Sickbay. It was nice seeing you again, Jake."

"Right. See you later, Aya." His goodbye sounded just a bit too eager; she grinned teasingly at him before turning briskly on her heel, red hair lightly brushing across her uniform collar.

Jake watched her leave. "Wow, she's, um... energetic."

"You should talk. You haven't been firmly secured under her wing for the last hour." But Bashir didn't look like he'd particularly disliked the attention; he seemed to be in a better mood, in any case. The two of them moved across the corridor to get out of the way of the door. "Who's this Lausten?"

Jake raised his eyebrows and teased, "Are you checking up on me? Afraid I'll fall in with the wrong crowd?"

Bashir grinned. "No, no -- I trust you, Jake. I'm glad you're making new friends. I just wondered who he was. That looks like complicated equipment he helped you replicate. Is he a team leader, maybe someone I should know about?"

"He's some sort of environmental specialist at planetary reclamation. I think. I didn't catch his full title. Most of his team and equipment are being sent on the other ships. He said there wasn't much else he could do 'til we got to Cardassia. That's how he had time for me."

Bashir looked oddly guilty at that last statement. "Oh, Jake, I'm sorry I've been so busy the last day. I didn't mean to leave you feeling like I don't --"

"No, no, it's all right! You've got a lot to do. It's a big project, I understand that."

"Still, I want you to know you can always come to me. I'll try and be a little more responsive."

Jake grinned. It was funny and a little embarrassing, how protective Bashir was of him. "No problem, Doctor."

"I hope not. Well, Captain Westfall has invited me to come to lunch in his ready room tomorrow at 1300 hours. Said he had a few people he'd like me to meet. Your new friend will probably be there. Maybe you could introduce us. Care to come along?"

"Sure."

"And I promise that won't be the first time I see you. What do you have planned for the rest of the day? I can make some time, if you'd like to talk or something...."

Jake held up his hand, cutting the doctor off. "Uh, no time -- I've gotta try out my new gear. And I'm hoping to get a few statements from some of the crew before we reach the rendezvous. So I'll just stay out of your way today and let you do what you've gotta do -- maybe later?"

Bashir took the hint with a wry smile. "All right, I --" Then his gaze focused on something above Jake's shoulder, and he abruptly fell silent.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Jake turned at the deep voice and found himself facing a bulky man in a yellow uniform with three full pips at his collar.

"No, sir." Bashir's face had gone oddly expressionless. Jake hoped he was only being polite. "I was just about to go back on duty. I'll talk to you later, then, Jake." Bashir clapped Jake's shoulder gently in goodbye, then walked off. Jake watched him go, curious at his sudden change of attitude, until the new man extended his hand and smiled vaguely. The officer stood perfectly straight, no sign of slouch in his entire body.

"I'm the security chief, Commander Theodore Blake. You the reporter that came aboard with Bashir?"

"Uh, yes, yes I am. Jake Sisko. Nice to meet you, Commander Blake." Jake shook his hand. His own lean frame was taller, he noticed, but Blake was all muscle. He could see how the man would do well in security.

"Welcome aboard. Have you had a tour of the ship yet?"

"Yes, actually. Aya and Lt. Lausten both showed me around. The Nightingale's very impressive."

Blake smiled again, this time with pride. "Yes, she is, isn't she?"

Jake quickly saw the opportunity. "Pardon me, sir. Could you get me an interview with a few key officers later on? Including yourself, if you're not busy?"

Blake looked him up and down once, as if he could glean the content of a person's soul using only the intensity of his gaze. He must not have found anything bad, because all at once his posture relaxed and his expression became almost amiable for a whole two seconds. It was almost scary.

"I would be happy to. I'm on duty right now, but I'll have a few hours this evening after my shift is over, if you'd like to interview me." Then he paused with a thoughtful frown. "In fact, I was about to make my way around the ship, to make sure everything's secure. Security scanners are all right as far as they go, but I happen to think nothing beats a personal touch. If you walk with me, we can check in with a couple people who I'm sure would be happy to set something up as well."

"That'd be wonderful. Thank you, sir."

Blake started walking. Jake fell into step beside him; the hovering spheres trailed him obediently, making several passers-by glance at them with comical expressions. Grinning sheepishly, Jake paused to pull the cameras from midair and deactivate them, nestling them into their carrying case. The commander watched with amusement and gestured at Jake's equipment as they continued down the corridor. "So, where'd you get these things?"

Likely he was just making polite conversation, but it was Jake's turn to be proud. He was a hands-on kind of guy, and having helped put together these great pieces of equipment made him feel like he'd accomplished something already. Those engineering lessons from Chief O'Brien and the years spent hanging out with Nog really came in handy sometimes. "Lt. Lausten and I put them together."

"Oh?" Blake's eyes remained focused ahead as he spoke; he flicked his gaze over each officer they passed, sometimes giving the person a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Yeah, you see, neither of us were doing anything, so he finished up my tour of the ship. And we got to talking about why we were here and I told him I was a reporter. He gave me a hard time, asking if I was a reporter, where was my camera?" Jake shook his head, smiling fondly at the memory. "Even though I tried to tell him I'm more of a journalist, he insisted. So, we spent a few hours replicating parts to put these together."

"You didn't have to do it if you didn't want to."

"Nah, that's okay. It was kinda fun, and a challenge. And I'm really starting to like them."

Blake angled a curious glance toward the console on Jake's arm. "They don't look like any standard reporting equipment I've ever seen."

"They aren't. You know who Lausten is?"

"Yes. An environmental specialist, on assignment from Earth. I make it a point to know everyone that comes and goes on this ship."

Jake nodded to show he understood, then continued. "He said they're normally used in his line of work where people can't normally go, whether because it's too toxic or too tight a fit, and sensors can't penetrate unless they get deeper inside something. He was sorry he couldn't get me a commercial holographic camera, but this was the only replicator pattern he had access to, unless we tried to break into protected files." He grinned. "You'd have met me a lot quicker if we had, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would have." Blake nodded seriously. "It's important to only use things you have a right to."

That felt awkward; Jake fleetingly wondered if Blake had ever realized he was joking. After they'd walked in silence for a good thirty seconds, Jake decided to make conversation. It might give him some ideas as to how he'd interview the commander later -- and if anything, it would at least fend off any more uncomfortable pauses. "How long have you worked on board the Nightingale?"

"Three years, all as security chief."

"Wow, I bet you've seen a lot of action."

"You don't know the half of it, Mr. Sisko."

"Call me Jake." Gotta put the subject at ease, he thought, hiding a smile.

"Jake," the commander acknowledged. "I don't mind, though. I've got a lot worth protecting."

"Do you have a family back home?"

"Yes I do. Don't get to see them as often as I like. Starfleet can be awfully stingy with their leave time, you know."

Jake thought of Kasidy living alone on Bajor, then saw his stay on Cardassia stretching on for who knew how long. He hid a grimace. "I know how that is. So why'd you come on this mission? I understand it's strictly voluntary. You could've had extra leave and stayed home while your ship was out here. I heard the Federation wasn't going to force anyone to help Cardassians on this long-term effort if they didn't want to."

Blake shrugged, moving slightly behind Jake to give people more room in the narrow corridor. "I guess they wanted to avoid trouble."

"Yeah, so why'd you come?"

"No one does my job better than me, Jake," he replied frankly. "I couldn't let my ship go into enemy territory without me, could I?"

"True -- but they're not the enemy anymore."

Blake seemed to ignore that. "Did you do much reporting during the war?"

"Yes, and before the official war started too... unfortunately." Jake couldn't quite resist adding that last word, rolling his eyes a bit.

"It doesn't sound like you enjoy your job."

"I didn't mean it that way," Jake hastened to explain. "I just would have preferred that there wasn't any war to report about in the first place. And my first love was fiction. Novels, short stories. That sort of thing. I haven't done a lot of that in a while." Jake took a deep breath, putting the reason out of his mind. "Reporting is supposed to be more... detached...." Jake found the word he was searching for and chopped the air with his hand as he walked. "Unbiased."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I suppose I got started because my Dad was commander of Deep Space Nine. Lots of things happen out here on the frontiers of the Federation that people should know about." Jake smirked slightly. "Besides, maybe if people like my news articles enough they'll look up my name to see what else I've written. Name recognition. Contacts. You know."

Blake clapped him on the back and gave him a small but genuine smile. Jake smiled back and congratulated himself on getting the commander in more of a talking mood.

"Earlier you said your father 'was' commander of Deep Space Nine. What happened to him?"

"He's... gone. It happened near the end of the war. After the last battle." Jake tried to turn the attention away from him. That had almost seemed like a leading question, as if Blake wanted to steer the conversation down a different road. "Nearly everyone lost someone in the war. Did you lose anyone important to you?"

"They're all important. Every man, woman, and child." Blake's voice died down to just above a whisper at that last word. "The Federation has lost too many people. Too many."

Jake respectfully waited for Blake to resume their conversation, not wanting to upset the man any further. Blake took a deep breath. "How is your mother handling it?"

"She's...." He trailed off, his face tightening. Thinking about Jennifer Sisko was never very easy for him. He saw the look of curiosity on the man's face, and felt a need to get away from that topic. "Well, my stepmother - she seems to be handling it all right."

"Hm." Blake nodded. Neither one of them seemed to have a good way to follow that up.

After a few moments, Blake gestured down a corridor to their left, and they walked toward a wide set of double doors. "Engineering. Commander Hart won't be back on duty for a while yet, but there are probably a few other officers you might be interested in."

"Great," Jake replied, a bit awkwardly. "Thanks."

Blake nodded in response, but paused outside the doors. "Jake, just curious -- how do you feel about going to Cardassia?"

It felt like an odd question - or at least one that Jake wasn't prepared to answer right away. He hesitated, contemplating his response. He was excited, yet worried about what would happen and what he would see once they arrived. The last time he had been that close to the brutality of war had been on Ajilon Prime. He vividly remembered the stench of burnt flesh, the shrieks of the injured. And fear, that most of all. Those memories were still fresh in his mind - who knew what would he see on Cardassia?

"Well, I'm pretty excited actually. I think I'll find some great stories," he said. Positive. Think positive. "What about you?"

Blake snorted softly. "Let's just say the whole idea is hard to accept. Doesn't seem to make much sense. I mean...." Blake was looking at him now, scrutinizing his features. "You don't wonder if this is going to be hard for you?"

Of course, it's going to be hard. Why wouldn't it be? Won't it be hard for everyone? "What do you mean?" Jake asked, slowly, cautiously.

"Well," Blake began, " I'm assuming you lost your father to the Dominion War...." He waited for Jake's grim nod, then continued. "And most likely a lot of friends as well. And now, knowing that the Cardassians were involved in the deaths of your loved ones -- you don't find this mission ironic? Going to Cardassia, and all, to help them. For me, at least, it seems very... challenging. The injustice."

Injustice. The word took on a sharper edge, the way Blake said it. Jake searched for the right words, confused. "Maybe. But not... quite. I mean, not all Cardassians or even all the citizens of the Dominion are responsible for my dad's death, or what happened on the border planets. Most Cardassians didn't have a say in the government. They aren't all responsible for the war."

"Hmph." Blake made a dismissive gesture. "Even when Cardassians try to overthrow their leaders, they just dispose of one corrupt government and replace it with another."

"I... suppose." Jake took a breath, tried to pull his muddled thoughts together. "But most were powerless. I guess they could've tried harder, but Cardassia was a totalitarian society. There wasn't much anyone could've done. In a way, it's good that the system's been broken down. Now it can be built back up, improved."

Blake cast a long, wary look at Jake, and glanced away, his features impassive. They were silent for a few uneasy moments. Then Blake said, "What if they don't?"

"Don't what?"

"What if they don't improve? What if the Cardassians go back to their old ways? You know their entire civilization is built upon deceit. They've conquered and raped planets for centuries to feed their resource-poor world." Blake brought the side of his fist down into his palm, an abrupt display of frustration. Jake tried not to jump. "Their history and literature are filled with heroes that strive only for the glory of Cardassia. How do we know they aren't just going to take our help with open arms and as soon as they're stronger, strike again?"

Jake faltered. "Because we're at peace now. And they'll see that we're willing to be their friends, not their enemies. They'll gain more with friendship than with battles. They'll have no reason to fight us." But Blake's questions had put him on edge. What if he was right? What if the Cardassians still held their age-old grudge against the Federation? Would another war be inevitable?

As if he'd read his thoughts, Blake lifted one shoulder in an oddly neutral shrug. "I guess we'll find out."

Chapter 2