Koenig leaned forward as an idea came to mind. "We were once able to change Alpha's trajectory by detonating some of our nuclear waste." He omitted to say they had come very close to destroying the Moon in the process. "Perhaps we could repeat the process this time; there should still be enough waste to divert the Moon." (2)

Dax looked hopeful as she walked around to Sisko's terminal. The captain moved his chair back to allow her access, and she entered some information into the computer. The simulation reappeared and zoomed in on the Moon and Bajor VIII, winding back their respective positions to the point at which the course correction would have to be made. Observing the Moon closely in this new view, Koenig's heart sank as he realised this plan wouldn't work.

"The nuclear storage units will be on the wrong side of the Moon," said Dax, shaking her head. "Detonating them would actually push the Moon even closer to the planet."

Sisko was also reading the information on the terminal. "We don't have time to speculate anyway. The Moon will have to be destroyed within five days, or the debris could hit the Bajoran system. That means you'll have to evacuate your base within four days."

Much as Koenig disliked this whole situation, he could see that Sisko was right. The calculations Maya had made when the Moon first entered this universe were merely being confirmed. "We would have to clear out the entire contents of our base," he said thoughtfully, his mind already working on the logistics that would be involved. "That would take us a whole week."

Operation Exodus, the original 24-hour evacuation plan devised before the Moon left Earth orbit, was by now hopelessly outdated. As time passed and the likelihood of finding a more permanent home faded, the Alphans had become increasingly ensconced in their base, even spreading into the catacombs beneath it. The problem was compounded by the fact they had lost half the Eagles they had had when they first left Earth. The last time Koenig had ordered a feasibility study on Operation Exodus, the report's conclusion was that it would take up to ten days to move everything off the base using the existing Eagles.

"I'm afraid you don't have a week, Commander," said Sisko, enunciating each word slowly. The captain had picked up the baseball that was the only ornament on his desk and was twirling it nervously. "As we just said--"

"I know," snapped Koenig, annoyed at what he perceived to be Sisko's condescending tone.

"Perhaps we could help," suggested Dax, apparently trying to defuse the sudden hostility between the two commanders. "We can use the Defiant and our runabouts to move your things to the station. Our transporter technology should speed things up a bit; even though the Moon is currently out of range, we can use the transporters to move your equipment to our ships. Also, we could probably store the core memory of your computer in one of our portable databanks. We... scanned your base." Koenig appreciated the fact she had the grace to be embarrassed by this unauthorised inspection of Alpha. "I estimate that we could download your entire computer into a module about a tenth of the size. That should considerably reduce the amount of equipment you have to take."

"Thank you. If we have to sacrifice the Moon, then so be it," said Koenig, realising he had no choice. "I am prepared to evacuate the contents of our base onto your station. But I will not accept to have my people carted off to some base somewhere just to get us out of your way. We don't belong in this universe: we have to return to ours."

"I agree," said Sisko, "and I'm still hoping to make Starfleet realise that. In the meantime, the U.S.S. Addis-Ababa is on its way. It will arrive here in six days to take your people to Starbase 571. We need to have the Moon destroyed and a plan to send you back ready by then. Otherwise, we'll have no choice but to let your people be evacuated to the starbase... I know this is a difficult time for you..."

"Yes," said Koenig shortly, interrupting him. "Yes, we'll have a lot of work to do... If we only have one week to find a way back to our universe, perhaps we should start working on that immediately."

"I'll be in charge of that part," said Dax. "In fact, I was rather hoping your science officer could help, once she's better. We'll need someone who knows your technology."

Koenig saw an opportunity to make sure the Alphans got a say in their future, rather than leaving it up to Starfleet. "I have no doubt that Maya will be a great help in finding a way back," he said. "But she isn't an expert on our technology. You'll need someone from the original Moonbase team."

A smile appeared on Dax' beautiful face. "Do you have any volunteers in mind?"

"Yes. Me."

"That's your main computer?"

Tony could tell the Irishman was not impressed. In fact, Chief O'Brien looked positively horrified, as if he was being asked to fly into space with a biplane. Moonbase Alpha's Mark 10 computer had been one of the most advanced machines of its time, but its time was the 1990s in the Alphan universe, and Tony realised it must be hopelessly outdated by Starfleet's standards.

"Oh, come on. Our giant supermarket till isn't that bad," he said loyally, though he wasn't so sure. Tony didn't know much about computers, but Maya never stopped complaining about how slow, archaic and unwieldy this machine was.

"What's this thing run on, anyway? Silicon microcircuits?" O'Brien peered into an open slot on the machine. He literally paled and straightened up again. "Holy Molly. Transistors! We'll be here forever." (3)

"All the more reason to start work now," said Tony, turning to the operatives. "Come on, ladies, show the man how it works. Let's get those Christmas lights blinking."

One of the computer operatives, Yasko, typed in the appropriate commands on her console while her colleague Annette checked the machine's LED displays. The computer finally spat out a narrow slip of paper which Yasko handed to Tony. "Ready for transfer to Deep Space Nine, sir."

"There you go," declared Tony, waving the strip of paper at O'Brien before throwing it into the recycling bin. "Now what you need to do, Mister O'Brien, is get your computer all geared up and you'll be in business."

O'Brien sighed and nodded sombrely. He tapped the golden broach on his chest. "Computer. Initiate transfer."

*Connection established. Memory banks unlocked. Transfer initiated.*

Like Alpha's computer -- on the rare occasions when it spoke -- Deep Space Nine's computer expressed itself in the voice of an American female, though there was no doubt that voice synthesis had improved by the 24th century. Tony reflected that everything else about the DS9 computer was probably more advanced, as well, but he still had to admit he felt some regret at seeing the Mark 10 so abruptly retired, its memory banks drained and its system boards stripped. The computer had served Alpha well. But it had quite literally grown old overnight.

Tony patted one of the computer's colourful panels. "I used to know a guy who would have been heart-broken right now. He really worshiped this computer."

"I can imagine it takes a lot of worshipping," said O'Brien critically. He ran his finger down one of the switches, probably feeling the unfamiliar texture of the chrome fittings. "What happened to him? That man you were talking about, who was in love with this computer."

Tony exchanged an embarrassed look with Yasko. "That's a question you should never ask on Alpha," he said, putting on a jovial smile. "Let's just say he was a casualty of our travels through space. Anyway, if the old beast is going to be retired, I do know someone who'll be happy. Maya has always hated this thing!"

That thought reminded him that he should call her and see how she was doing. She and John were the only Alphans still on Deep Space Nine, and with the commander busy all day, Maya might be in need of cheering up. He automatically looked at her desk beside him and reflected that he should pack up her things if she didn't have time to come back to Alpha before it was evacuated.

He left O'Brien and the operatives to work with the computer, and walked over to his own workstation to start clearing up. A bright splash of scarlet caught the tail of his eye and he turned to find Major Kira picking her way through the clutter of desks in the Command Centre. She looked strangely out of place in her colourful skin-tight suit, so different from the pale, loose fitting uniforms of his Alphan colleagues.

"Mister Verdeschi," she said as she approached. "I believe you and I will be working together to coordinate the transport process. We need to establish a schedule for the evacuation."

Tony smiled politely and shook her hand. "Good morning, Major. The schedule is actually ready; I printed one out as soon as I got back here." He rooted through the papers on his desk. "I'll have to tidy this up... Ah, here we go: the revised Operation Exodus schedule. Complete with annotations by yours truly. Don't worry about the scribbles," he added, noticing Kira's uncertain expression. "I'll decipher my handwriting for you if you have problems reading it."

"Yes..." Kira still looked unconvinced as she observed the paper printout. "But I suppose it won't be possible to download that list into a padd so I can have a copy..."

"That's what photocopiers are for," said Tony brightly, handing her a Xerox of his annotated version. Alphan technology was no doubt primitive in her eyes, but he didn't want her thinking that it was inefficient. "Now, our first mission is to clear out the Medical Centre; it has evidently been decided we'll be better off relying on yours rather than ours while we're here. If you'll follow me, Major..."

As he led her through the corridors of Alpha to the Medical Centre, it occurred to Tony that he hadn't often had an opportunity to escort an alien as a guest. Save some rare exceptions, most of Alpha's visitors had proved untrustworthy or belligerent, and Tony had usually ended up having to fight them at one point or another. Alpha's disastrous encounter with the Hadar on the other side of the wormhole was still fresh in his memory. He wondered if Kira would prove as dangerous as most of the other aliens he had met; after all, she was here mainly because John had decided to trust Sisko. For all the Alphans knew, the Bajoran might have some hidden agenda of her own. Tony determined to keep an eye on her.

She seemed friendly, at least, and more relaxed than the last time he had seen her. Her pretty smile was not so forced and she was making less of a conscious effort to be diplomatic, or so Tony thought. Kira asked some general questions about the base as they walked through it. In particular, she was curious to know what the 'round metal plates' were on the comm posts in the corridors. She looked very surprised when Tony told her they were clocks.

"Interesting way of opening doors," she remarked, as Tony pointed his commlock at the entrance of the Medical Centre.

Tony just grinned. "You're lucky we aren't still using doorknobs... Here we go, our very own 'Infirmary'," he announced grandly as they entered the medical ward.

All the medical staff were busy disconnecting the equipment and packing boxes. Tony noticed that Carolyn Powell, still brain-damaged after her breakdown two years earlier, was trying ineffectually to make herself useful by arranging pencils into a box. Looking at Kira, he knew she had noticed Carolyn too. The Bajoran looked troubled; perhaps they weren't used to mental illness in the 24th century.

"This is Major Kira," said Tony as Helena approached. "Our Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Russell. I don't believe you met when we were on DS9."

"How do you do?" said the doctor with a polite smile. "We're not quite finished in here, Tony, but you can start evacuating the labs. Ed and Ben have packed everything in there; you'll find the inventory on the first stack of boxes. We'll probably be ready here in about an hour's time."

Tony led Kira into the adjoining lab, where the two of them set about 'beaming' the supplies up to one of Deep Space Nine's runabouts. Tony had to admit he was very impressed by the process; all Kira had to do was place her broach on a pile of boxes, take it off and say "Energise", and the whole stack vanished in a beam of light. He was admittedly no scientist, but Tony couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of technology would reliably transfer matter from one point to another in a split second. He wondered if the Alphans would be allowed to 'borrow' the technology if they went back to their universe.

They had beamed about three piles of boxes up to the runabout, exchanging only desultory conversation about the nature of molecular transportation, when Kira suddenly asked, "That woman in the Infirmary. She wasn't quite right, was she?"

"Who? Helena? Yeah, I've often wondered about that myself," said Tony with a grin, as he checked the box numbers in one of the stacks.

Kira smiled, but she placed her hands on her hips. "No the other one. What happened to her?"

Tony was crouching down to read the number on the bottom box. "She lost her mind a few years ago," he said casually.

"Lost her mind?" repeated Kira, crouching down beside him.

"Yeah." He straightened up and crossed off a few items on the list. This time, he put on a serious expression and lowered his eyes. "She... killed her lover and his girlfriend and... then went mad. Well, that's the short version, anyway." (4)

"Oh. I'm sorry." She paused as she sent the stack up, and then continued, "I suppose being isolated in space for so long must have been very difficult for you all."

Carolyn's illness wasn't a direct consequence of being isolated in space -- her decline had been triggered by an unexplained space phenomenon -- but Tony warmed to Kira's sympathy and responded to her evident desire for conversation.

"We've had our ups and downs," he said. "Considering the circumstances, I think we've been remarkably lucky. Well, some of us, at least. Not everyone made it this far. But we've visited all sorts of fascinating worlds and met some pretty interesting people. Maya, for instance. We'd never have met her if we'd stayed on Earth. So I can't say I regret it all." As far as Tony was concerned, meeting Maya alone was worth all the hardships the Alphans had been through.

"I suppose that, given a choice, no one would want to undo their past," said Kira thoughtfully. "I've been through a lot of hardships myself... but I think in some ways, it has made me a stronger person."

"Was that because of the Occupation?" Tony was aware that he had no idea what he was talking about.

His guess was evidently accurate; Kira nodded. "I joined the Resistance when I was twelve... I spent the next fourteen years fighting the Cardassians, and I've spent the last six years learning to live normally again."

"Ah, the Cardassians," said Tony knowledgeably, in an effort to cheer her up. "They certainly get around, don't they? They occupy you, build the station, design uncomfortable beds, join the Dominion. Trouble-makers, huh?"

Kira laughed. "I suppose they are." She evidently wasn't planning to say more on the subject, so Tony left things at that.

He checked the next stack of boxes while Kira sent up another pile. "Talking about murky pasts," he said to change the subject, "there's something I was thinking about last night. If I understand this parallel universes business correctly, there's a possibility we existed here, too; I mean, all the Alphans. You know, back in the 20th century. I suppose it's just curiosity more than anything else, but I'd be interested to know what my alternate was up to. If I existed in this universe, I obviously didn't get blasted off with the Moon, so I wonder what I did do."

Kira seemed surprised by the question. Concentrating on the job at hand, she tapped her broach -- "Energise." -- before returning her attention to Tony. "I'm sure Dax could look and see if you existed in this universe," she said. "You might get a nasty shock, though. Alternates are not always what you'd expect."

"Ah well, I'm used to nasty shocks after all this time."

Tony ticked off another set of lines on the inventory. As he moved on to the last stack, it occurred to him that it would have been infinitely simpler to just beam everything up in one go. But the inventory had to be checked box by box, and there was no way to do it automatically. They certainly didn't want to run the risk of losing any medical supplies during the transfer. Tony just hoped he wouldn't die of boredom by the time everything was off the station.

"It's a pity we're not in the right universe," he continued. "I'd have been interested to find out how much of my LSRO back pay piled up."

"Was the LSRO the organisation you worked for?" asked Kira. She pointed at the badge on Tony's jacket as she sent up the boxes.

"Yep, the one and only Lunar Science and Research Organisation. Well... that's our last bunch, so I guess we're finished here," he said, looking around the empty room. Kira nodded with satisfaction. "Just think, Major: only another four or five days of this and we'll have this whole place cleared!"

Kira's smile faded.

It was evening on Deep Space Nine and the Promenade was bustling with activity as Maya came out of the Infirmary. Now that her wound was healed, Bashir had discharged her and arranged some quarters on the Habitat Ring for her, but although he ordered her to take some rest, Maya was curious to resume her interrupted exploration of the station. She was also beginning to feel very hungry; having declined the offer of dinner in the Infirmary, she wanted to see if there was some kind of canteen on the station. She could always go to her quarters later.

It seemed that everyone on the station had come to find food and entertainment on the Promenade now that their daytime duties were over. Maya had read a padd describing most of the alien species in this sector, and she was pleased to find she could put a name to most of the creatures she saw. The Bajorans, with their wrinkled noses, were the most common species, along with the familiar-looking human beings, but she also recognised blue-skinned Bolians, pointed-eared Vulcans, as well as a few local Xepolites and Lissepians.

The whole circular avenue was a hive of activity, full of exciting new sights, sounds and smells. Humans and aliens were talking and laughing on their way to whatever entertainment delights the Promenade offered. Women and men were visiting the shops and beauty parlours scattered along the two levels of the circular structure. Children ran and chased each other on their way to the sweet merchant.

Maya was particularly intrigued by the children; watching them play on the Promenade, it occurred to her that she had never actually seen any before. Her entire life, from childhood even, had been conducted among adults. She had been the youngest child in her native Psychon community, and the Alphans she had joined four years earlier had a policy of zero population growth to preserve their life-support systems. So Maya had never seen children in real life. She decided they simply looked like tiny adults and continued on her way.

As she walked past various shops, she became aware that she was attracting a lot of interest. Psychons were no doubt unfamiliar to all the people on the Promenade, and her scarlet-sleeved uniform was unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Maya was uncomfortable among such a large number of people, and she was beginning to think she might be better off on the Habitat Ring after all when she noticed Odo walking through the crowd. The constable was observing the passers-by suspiciously, no doubt on the lookout for trouble, but his bland expression seemed to relax when he caught sight of Maya.

"Miss Maya. I'm pleased to see you're feeling better," he said, approaching her.

"Oh yes, I'm completely cured," she declared, indicating her arm although Odo probably hadn't noticed her wound that morning. "I was thinking about getting some dinner, actually. Perhaps you could advise me -- is there a canteen here?"

Odo looked around thoughtfully. "A canteen? I suppose the Replimat would qualify, but it isn't open in the evenings. The nearest you could get to a canteen is Quark's. Goodness knows it doesn't qualify as a restaurant."

Maya remembered Tony endlessly talking about restaurants in the past and realised that was what she should be looking for, not a canteen like the one on the Moon. She had caught a glimpse of Quark's the previous day; that sounded like an interesting place to eat. She told Odo as much and he offered to accompany her.

"This is a nice place," said Maya appreciatively as they sat down on the upper level of Quark's. "Very colourful." She particularly liked the red and yellow display at the back of the bar; it reminded her of the bright colour schemes of her home planet, very unlike the neutral white of Alpha and the depressing near-black of Deep Space Nine.

"Yes, I suppose it is." Odo sounded as if he had never really noticed the decor before.

They were interrupted as a small man in a tailored suit seemed to pop up out of nowhere beside their table. He had a broad, wrinkled face, with large ears and small, black-rimmed eyes; Maya thought he looked a bit like one of the Munchkins in a film she had seen on Alpha. According to the information she had read that afternoon, he was a Ferengi.

"Odo! Perhaps you could introduce me to your charming new friend," he exclaimed, his needle teeth bared in a friendly grin.

"All right," growled Odo. "This is Maya, the Moon's science officer. Miss Maya, this is Quark, the bartender."

"Delighted to meet you," said Quark suavely. "The last time I saw you, you were lying just outside my bar after a nasty fall. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I am much better, thank you." Maya smiled sweetly. "You have a very nice place here, Mister Quark. It's very colourful."

"Thank you," said the Ferengi, positively beaming with pride. "It's a sort of cheerful traditional Bajoran decor mixed with the classical Cardassian design of the structure. I've added--"

"All right, Quark," interrupted Odo. "I'm sure Miss Maya would like something to eat now."

"Of course!" Quark pulled his padd out from under his arm, ready to take her order. "What can I get you?"

"Penne all'arrabbiata," she said without hesitation. "And... um, red wine that goes with it."

"I'm sure the replicator has just what you want," said Quark with a nod. "And what are you having, Odo? Oh, I forgot -- you don't eat and you don't drink. You know, Odo, you're a bartender's nightmare." Pleased with that comment, the Ferengi trotted off with a wide grin on his shrivelled little face.

Odo huffed in irritation. "He always makes that joke."

"But it's true -- you don't eat or drink?"

"No. I... I don't need to. I regenerate every sixteen hours by returning to my natural liquid state."

"How does that help? I mean, surely you expend energy when you're transforming... or just simply walking around. You'd still need to have some kind of energy intake, wouldn't you?" Knowing living organisms as she did, Maya couldn't see how a being could exist without some kind of sustenance.

"I don't know how my body works," admitted Odo, "and Doctor Bashir has never been able to find out, either. All I know is that I don't need food or air and I'm a liquid in my natural state. I'm as far removed from a humanoid as you can get."

"That's fascinating," said Maya. "I don't think I've ever met a liquid life form before. Let alone one who can change into inorganic matter without the help of a machine."

"I don't actually change what I'm made of," explained Odo. "I merely emulate the shape and surface of the object I become and then try to mimic its properties. As an animal, I endeavour to use the shape as if I had muscles and bones beneath it, so that I move the way the animal would. As an inanimate object, I simply make myself as rigid or supple as the object should be. It's a natural ability of my people."

Maya was amazed at his flexibility. "That is truly remarkable! I can change my life-pattern into that of any existing being, but I'm unable to change my actual shape at will. I have to concentrate, remember the pattern of the creature I'm transforming into, and go through the process of realigning my own pattern to that of the creature. It only takes a few seconds to do, but it does mean I'm completely limited to existing life forms."

"By life-pattern, I assume you mean DNA." Odo looked impressed. "So if you change into... a dove, for instance, you actually are a dove. With the same instincts..."

"... and the same tiny brain," she said with a smile. "Which can sometimes be a serious disadvantage. But of course, I become a dove with a large amount of matter in an artificial subspace pocket and the instruction to turn back into myself if necessary."

"We're a lot more different than I thought," said Odo thoughtfully. "I never knew a humanoid could change their actual DNA to take on a different form. Is it a natural process that your people evolved? I wouldn't have thought that was possible."

Maya smiled as a Ferengi waiter -- not Quark -- brought her food. "Thank you." She closed her eyes and breathed in the vapour from her dish. "Oh this smells delicious. I haven't had real food for years."

"Strictly speaking, it isn't real food," said Odo.

"I know. It's 'replicated'," she said, spearing a piece of pasta with her fork. She sighed contentedly as she tasted it. "It still tastes a lot better than the synthetic food we have to eat on Alpha... Anyway, to answer your question: no, it isn't a result of natural evolution." She sipped the wine and hummed appreciatively before continuing. "Psychon was a beautiful planet, but not very rich in natural resources, so over the millennia, my people designed some very powerful machines capable of changing matter on a molecular level. They discovered that certain children could be taught to do the same thing without the aid of technology, provided they were trained early enough. That's how I learned."

"Your people must be very advanced; even more advanced than the Federation," remarked Odo.

Maya shook her head. "Oh, no," she said, rapidly swallowing her mouthful. "As far as I can tell, the replicators they have here are just as powerful as our matter transformers. And we never developed warp drive... I gather from what you said that all the people in your species can metamorphose, so that seems to be another difference between us. My parents and my brother couldn't transform. I was the only one." Odo nodded. "By the way, what species are you from? You never said."

Odo looked distinctly embarrassed. "My people... call themselves the Founders."

"Oh. Of course," she said, realising her faux pas. "The Founders of the Dominion. I should have thought of that." She paused, eating some more of her dish before continuing. "It can't be easy for you, living on the station while the Federation is at war with your people."

"No," he said coldly. "It isn't." He had probably been asked this question before.

"It wasn't easy for me, either, when I first came to Alpha," she said, wanting to show that they had something in common and she wasn't being gratuitously nosy or condescending. "I... My father had tried to use the Alphans in an experiment, so there was a lot of bad feeling toward me when I first joined them. But after a while, they realised my metamorphic abilities could prove useful and they stopped fearing them. And I think they gradually realised I could be their friend as well."

As she thought about her friends on Alpha, Maya's mind lingered on Tony. He had called her on her commlock that afternoon -- causing major panic among DS9's nursing staff as they tried to find out where they had stored Maya's beeping device. She and Tony had laughed and talked about nothing important, just trivial things about Deep Space Nine and Alpha and medical technology and a hundred little things Maya had already forgotten. Seeing Tony on the tiny black and white screen had made Maya feel less lonely in the Infirmary. Thinking about him and how close the two of them had become over the past four years, Maya reflected that she had integrated very well into Alphan society in the end.

"Yes..." Odo had a faraway look in his eyes which suggested he was recalling some memories of his own. "But how did you join them? If your father was an enemy of theirs..."

Maya looked down at her dish and thoughtfully stabbed a quill-shaped piece of pasta. Even after four years, the memories of Psychon's destruction made her throat tighten in sadness. She ate a little more, but the unfamiliar spicy food took on a bitter taste in her mouth.

"My planet was destroyed when my father's experiment went wrong..." She decided not to tell Odo that her father's 'experiment' had gone wrong because John Koenig destroyed it. "I had no choice," she said finally. "My father was dead, my planet destroyed... The Alphans offered me a home..." (5)

She looked up at Odo again. He smiled and nodded sympathetically, recognising the fact she didn't want to say any more. It wasn't long before Maya had finished her dish. She sipped some wine, and the sad memories were cast away.

"I came here as a refugee of sorts, too," volunteered Odo suddenly. "My people sent me out into the galaxy when I was an infant. The Cardassians found me floating in the Denorios Belt, near the wormhole -- only it hadn't been discovered at that time -- and I was taken to a research lab on Bajor, where I 'grew up', I suppose one could say. At first, they didn't even realise I was alive, let alone sentient. They definitely didn't know what to do with a living being that didn't eat, sleep, or breathe!"

"Oh yes. You don't breathe either," said Maya; it was a detail she had almost forgotten.

She couldn't help assessing the tactical advantages that might represent. Her years among the Alphans had taught her to view her metamorphic skill primarily as a weapon, and she took every opportunity to study life forms that might prove useful. From what he had said about his discovery, Maya inferred that Odo's species could also survive in the vacuum of space. A form like this would be a formidable weapon.

"No wonder the Federation is doing so badly against the Dominion. Your people must be fearsome enemies," she said, shaking her head at the thought of combating an army of these Founders.

"They are," he said with a grave nod. "They have even infiltrated Starfleet in the past. Fortunately for us, these days, they seem content to just play gods in the Dominion."

"Gods?"

Odo grunted irritably. "Maybe I should explain how the Dominion works. It'll give you a nice idea what my people are like. There are three main races: the Founders, the Vorta, and the Jem'Hadar. The Vorta and the Jem'Hadar are genetically engineered to consider the Founders as gods. It ensures their loyalty, I suppose. Though as a precautionary measure, the Founders have also made the Jem'Hadar addicted to a substance only they can dispense."

"Hadar?" said Maya, seized with sudden dread. "So maybe we have met someone from the Dominion in our universe. I'd have to see a picture to be sure, but the last race we encountered before entering the wormhole called themselves the Hadar."

"What did they look like?"

"The adults were dark grey, with large scales and horns, and a sort of crest that went around their heads, but their young looked almost like dark humans. At first, they were friendly to us; the first delegation they sent to Alpha were women and children who said they wanted to trade with us. But then they started sending men over, and it turned out they just wanted a fight and to steal anything we had of value on Alpha..." She sipped her wine and frowned. "They killed nine Alphans before we were able to stop them."

"How did you stop them in the end?" asked Odo, perhaps hoping the Alphans' solution would be applicable to the Jem'Hadar of this universe.

Maya smiled. "It was a typical low-tech Alphan solution. We simply broadcast a very loud, high frequency sound over the station's communications system. It drove the humans crazy, but it killed the Hadar. After that, the Moon left their star system and we never saw the Hadar again."

"Hmm. If the Hadar you met were related to the Jem'Hadar in this universe, that information might prove useful."

"Glad to be of assistance," she said with a grin. "I think we might have a lot to learn from each other."

Odo nodded his agreement. "I looking forward to learning," he said simply.

Sisko opened his eyes and found himself in Ops. He knew he had been asleep in his bed only a moment earlier, but as he looked around, he recognised the blurred outlines and ochre tones that the Prophets conferred to his visions. Once upon a time, he would have been seized with fear or dread, but he now accepted his role as Emissary, and he relaxed into the Prophets' vision, waiting to find out what they wanted to tell him.

The people they had chosen as representatives this time were a reflection of the subject which currently preoccupied Sisko. He recognised Verdeschi and Koenig, and found that Doctor Russell was standing beside him. The alien Maya was at the head of the central table; she was standing with her back to the viewscreen, where Sisko could see the Moon as it looked from DS9 -- dark grey and without detail.

"Why have you brought me here?" demanded Sisko, even though he knew the Prophets were never keen to answer direct questions.

"A new world shines over Bajor," said Russell.

"It brings light," said Koenig.

"It brings life," said Verdeschi.

"It brings a new strength to Bajor," concluded Maya, turning to point at the viewscreen.

Sisko looked up at the Moon on the screen and found it was now shining brightly, as white as it could appear on a clear night on Earth.

"Did you bring the Moon deliberately into this universe?" he asked.

"The Sisko fears the new world," said the Russell Prophet, "but there is nothing to fear."

"You mean I shouldn't destroy it? But I have to -- if it passes by Bajor VIII, even if they don't collide, there could be thousands of casualties. Bajoran casualties."

"The Sisko has nothing to fear," repeated the Prophets -- this time as Koenig.

"The new world will bring a new light to Bajor," said the Maya Prophet.

"But I have to destroy it," explained Sisko as the vision faded. "I have no choice."