"What do we do now?"

John looked around his senior staff as he uttered the words, watching their reactions to this obvious question. They all looked just as depressed as he felt, sitting despondently on the teal sofas and chairs of the Koenigs' quarters, the patches of diffuse light from the ceiling further emphasising their tragic demeanour. Sandra's eyes were still red and devoid of makeup from crying; Helena's expression was impassively stony; Alan was staring down at his hands; Maya still looked as though she was about to collapse from lack of sleep. Even Tony was serious, sitting opposite John in one of the armchairs, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. The Moon had been destroyed barely two hours earlier, and John could understand his staff's despondency; but time was running out. They needed to review their options and make a decision about their future.

John let his gaze stay on his first officer; it was at times like this that the man's humour became useful. Tony seemed to understand what was required and straightened up in his chair, putting on a cheerful expression.

"Maybe we could throw a party?" he suggested with a wry grin.

"I don't think anyone is in the mood for a party," said Maya sharply, casting an acrid glance at Tony.

Not surprisingly, the first officer's cheerfulness evaporated completely and Tony slumped back in his chair, his effort at joviality completely quelched.

"What is Starfleet's plan, exactly?" asked Alan, wearily running his hand over his face. "To evacuate us off to God knows where?"

"Starbase 571, isn't it?" said Tony, still sullen.

John nodded. "The U.S.S. Addis-Ababa will be coming the day after tomorrow. It will take one day for the Starfleets to load all our equipment onto the ship, and then it will take three weeks to take us to the starbase."

"Three weeks?" repeated Sandra. "Where is this base?"

"As far as I was able to tell, it's near Alpha Centauri," said John, realising the impact this would have on his human staff.

"Alpha Centauri, but that's --" started Tony. Probably realising he was about to state the obvious, he hesitated, but finally concluded, "With the technology of this time, we would only be a few hours away from Earth."

"We could go back to Earth," murmured Sandra dreamily, the idea evidently very appealing to her.

This was precisely why John had preferred to keep this detail as quiet as possible. He did not want the Alphans to go to Starfleet's Earth in this universe. The Prophets' apparent plan to give Alpha a permanent home had come to nothing and John still believed that his people did not belong in this universe and should return to their own as soon as possible.

"It isn't our Earth," said John sternly. He knew he needed to make it clear from the start that staying in this reality was not an option. "We're still in the wrong universe, remember? Starfleet's Earth isn't ours: it's not as if we're going to find our families and friends there."

"It's not as if we would in our universe either," remarked Alan. "Our Earth was a wreck the last time we saw it in the 22nd century. Who knows what it's like now? But Starfleet's Earth is a haven; O'Brien and Bashir were telling me yesterday how peaceful it is, even with the war. I'm sure they wouldn't object to us going there to visit. We might be able to make ourselves useful; perhaps even settle there."

Tony glanced at John before looking at Alan. "I don't get the impression Starfleet have a high regard for our technological skills," he said cautiously. "We're a bit old-fashioned by their standards."

"That does not matter," argued Sandra. "We do not need to know how their technology works in order to use it. If Starfleet is willing to accept us as refugees anyway, then I think we should take advantage of that. Going to 24th century Earth in this universe or in our own will be the same as far as we are concerned. At least Earth in this universe is in better condition than in ours."

"Sandra is right." John's heart sank as he heard his wife's voice join the dissenting chorus. "We would have a better life here than in our own universe. If Starfleet can't send us back now, then we might just as well settle here. The Federation is a vast empire; there must be plenty of places where we could live. There are even areas which are relatively untouched by the war. We could finally stop wandering and settle down... have children."

John had been wondering when the 'children' issue would come up. It was another of those things the Alphans never talked about, like discussing the deaths of their numerous colleagues killed since Breakaway. He could understand his friends' desire to stay in the Federation. They would no longer be fending for themselves, instead entrusting their subsistence and safety to Starfleet, living out their lives in a comfortable universe, free of the fear and uncertainty of their life on Alpha. They could have children -- it wasn't too late even for him and Helena -- and live out their lives in the shadow of the Federation.

But that was definitely not how John envisaged the Alphans' ultimate fate.

"We don't belong in this universe," he said firmly. "Even Starfleet doesn't know what the long-term effects of living in a universe that resonates at a different quantum frequency might be, let alone what effect it would have on children born here."

"I don't think that would be a problem," intervened Maya drowsily. She was frowning, evidently trying to concentrate in spite of her obvious tiredness. "The difference in quantum signatures would have already affected us by now if it was going to. According to the Starfleet records, people have been known to live in alternate universes for up to several months, and they didn't suffer any side effects."

"Several months isn't several years," remarked John sternly. Maya lowered her eyes without responding. "What you're suggesting is that we stay in this universe, living on Starfleet's bounty indefinitely, just because it's the easy option." The thought that the Alphans could be so easily seduced by the Federation's technology made him angry, and he involuntarily raised his voice. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to live out my life as a parasite, dependant on Starfleet for my security and my food."

"Okay, so what's the alternative?" asked Tony, shrugging his shoulders. It was clear that he too, like the others, thought they should simply follow Starfleet's plan.

"If we can get a ship, we can go back to our universe and settle on a planet there," replied John more calmly. "A faster-than-light ship would allow us to chose any Earth-like planet we wanted. We could finally colonise a new world where mankind can start again."

This was the goal that had always been in John's mind -- ever since an alien being had told him that the Alphans' destiny was to give humanity a new chance on a world other than the Earth. He wasn't so sure that his colleagues shared this vision. Maybe they needed proof of the feasibility of his plan.

"The tiranium we salvaged from Alpha will be enough to purchase a ship. Commander Dax and I talked to the Ferengi Quark yesterday evening, and it seems he can get us a warp-capable vessel," he explained, trying to project a lot more confidence than he felt.

"You're going to buy a ship from the bartender?" laughed Tony.

John had had similar misgivings when Dax first suggested the idea the previous day. But if Dax trusted Quark to conduct this transaction, John saw no reason to refuse. It wasn't as if he had any better solutions to explore.

"Commander Dax has checked the specifications of the ship he's proposing," he said finally. "She can reconfigure the warp drive so that the ship can jump back to our own universe once it's in the wormhole."

"What will Starfleet think of that?" asked Alan. "I thought they didn't want anyone to use the wormhole?"

John shrugged his shoulders. "If Captain Sisko says it's safe to use the wormhole to get back to our universe, I'll take his word rather than Starfleet's. And Dax seems to think that shifting back will be a piece of cake."

Tony nodded, apparently convinced by these arguments. "Mind you, Commander Dax seems to think everything's a doddle," he said with a grin. "But how soon can our friend Big Ears get us a ship? Surely Starfleet will just pack us onto this U.S.S. Addis-Ababa willy-nilly if we're still around when it arrives. You said it would take a day to transfer all our equipment onto the Starfleet ship; will we have time to get everything onto this other one? And how can we do that without Starfleet noticing and trying to stop us?

"That is a problem," admitted John. "We'll have to trust Captain Sisko to stall Starfleet."

Tony guffawed. "Yeah. Sisko's so good at stalling Starfleet," he said sarcastically. "He was going to get them to rescind the order to blow up the Moon, too, wasn't he? And that was a project even the local gods were behind."

"We'll just have to trust him," said John. "For the moment, our first priority is to get that ship, but I'd be grateful if you didn't discuss this with the rest of the Alphans. And that's an order," he added sternly. "We don't want Starfleet to know all about our plans before they've come into effect."

"I doubt it's very easy to keep a secret on a station like this," remarked Tony. "For all we know, they might be listening to us right now. If so, then -- 'hello, Constable'," he added, looking upwards as the Starfleets did when they were using their comm system.

John automatically raised his eyes to the ceiling, although there were no eavesdropping devices to be seen. "I doubt Captain Sisko would be very sorry to see us go whichever way we leave," he said thoughtfully. "It's Starfleet Command we need to worry about. In the meantime, those of you who don't have any duties to perform can simply enjoy the facilities here. Everything is at the Federation's expense, however, so make sure everyone knows not to go overboard with their expenditures."

"Oh yeah, speaking of entertainment, I wanted to let you all know that we're having a Starfleet-Alpha friendly this afternoon at 1600," said Tony as an afterthought. "Football, of course."

"Soccer," corrected Alan, looking at John and Helena. "Tony managed to pester the Starfleets into organising a match in the holosuite."

"Didn't take much pestering," protested Tony good-naturedly. "I hope you'll all turn up to cheer the 'Squadra Azzurra' to victory."

John exchanged a surprised glance with Helena. It seemed very soon after the destruction of the Moon for Tony to be thinking about entertainment. On the other hand, a lot of Alphans enjoyed soccer; the matches they used to play on the base were always well-attended.

"We'll certainly be there," he said with a smile. John was surprised that Maya didn't have any comment to make about Tony's 'football' match. Looking at her, he realised she was either sulking or just too tired to say anything. "Well, I think that's all we have to discuss for now. I'll see you all this afternoon, then."

He watched as his officers left the quarters and then turned to Helena. His wife had a thoughtful expression on her features, eyes half-closed, eyebrows raised.

"Tony and Maya don't seem to be getting on very well," she remarked. "She was looking daggers at him all during the meeting. I was very surprised."

John hadn't noticed that particular detail, but he did know something was wrong. Perhaps they had argued about Maya's encounter with Weyoun; after all, it was quite possible that she had told him about her plan to go to Cardassia and that Tony hadn't taken it well.

"Maybe they've had an argument," he said, mindful to keep his promise to Maya and not mention the Dominion.

"Yes," agreed Helena. "It's difficult to tell what Tony thinks of anything, but I know Maya has been through a lot these last few days; even more than we have. She's been shot, Tony was nearly killed, then on top of that she's had to deal with whatever the Dominion told her and the Moon's destruction. I suspect she hasn't been sleeping very well; anyone's temper would fray under those circumstances. We saw how she behaved yesterday morning."

"I suppose so," said John. "We'll have to try and convince her to take things easy for a couple of days at least."

"Actually, I was going to suggest that for all the Alphans," said Helena, lifting her eyebrows significantly.

Odo cast a suspicious glance around as he walked into Quark's bar. The lunchtime rush had just finished; the Ferengi waiters were busy clearing tables and cleaning the floor, while a couple of Bajoran technicians were setting up the giant holographic screen Quark used to transmit sporting events. Odo had a feeling this 'football match' Chief O'Brien had organised was going to be a major disruption. It would attract a lot of people to Quark's, thus provoking inevitable chaos on the Promenade, not to mention that people would no doubt attempt to bet on the game, causing fights and arguments. Odo hated it when there were special events at the bar.

The bartender was studiously polishing glasses as Odo approached. The constable was of the opinion that Quark pursued this activity purely so as to look busy -- the replicators provided cleaning facilities far more adequate than a damp cloth, after all.

"Odo, what can I do for you?" said Quark with an egregious grin.

"I hear you're in the market for selling ships these days."

Quark's face fell and he interrupted his cleaning. "What are you talking about?" he said finally, starting to vigorously rub the glass again.

"You told Dax you had a ship for the Alphans," said Odo patiently. "I thought I might help you with the transaction. Captain Sisko wouldn't like to see his human friends swindled out of their latinum."

Apparently reassured, Quark put down the glass and started scrubbing another one. "Pshaw, Odo, you don't seriously think I would do that, do you? I like the Alphans; they're some of the best customers I've ever had. You know, after I visited Earth in the 20th century, I've often wished people from that time could come and visit my bar. And my dream has come true. Two hundred primitive humans taking advantage of everything Quark's has to offer: drinks, holosuites, the Dabo table. These aren't your boring Starfleet types. The Alphans know how to enjoy themselves."

"At the Federation's expense," said Odo. He knew from close observation how profligate the Alphans were; Quark's dream come true indeed.

"Whose expense it is doesn't matter," said Quark with a shrug. "At least they appreciate what I have to offer. As to the ship, it's all well above board, don't worry, even though it's behind Starfleet's back. I have a Xepolite contact who can provide a ship by tomorrow evening, just in time to beat that Starfleet vessel. Though why the Alphans are so anxious to leave when the Federation is offering them free hospitality is beyond me."

Odo wasn't interested in knowing why the Alphans wanted to return to their universe; his only desire was to see them go. "They value their freedom, like all humanoids," he said vaguely.

"Their commander does," agreed the Ferengi. "But I think some of the others would prefer the free hospitality. And this notion of sending them back to their universe 'secretly' as it were is downright silly in my opinion. Sisko is just too anxious to do these humans a favour."

Odo nodded. He had already noticed the captain's strong bias in favour of the Alphans, and this had been further confirmed when he brought Sisko his report on Maya's activities during the last 26 hours. There was ample evidence that the woman was planning to remain on DS9 to conduct covert operations for the Dominion, but Sisko was still reluctant to arrest her. Maybe the captain felt a special need to help Koenig's people after sharing a Prophet-induced vision with the Alphan commander the previous night.

"I have all the specs on the ship, if you like," continued Quark. It was unlike him to volunteer information, but Odo suspected this was just an effort to keep the conversation going.

The constable was about to tell Quark to send the information to the security office when the photosensitive cells in his simulated eyes caught sight of Nerys' red uniform approaching. Odo had barely talked to her for the past two days; she hadn't even bothered to turn up for their daily review of the criminal activities report, explaining each time that she was too busy with the Alphans. It was obvious which Alphan was keeping her busy.

No doubt realising that Nerys had come to talk to Odo, Quark had made himself scarce, though the constable suspected he would be keeping an ear on the conversation nonetheless. Considering the rumours circulating about Verdeschi and Nerys, Odo didn't want to appear weak and forgiving while Quark was listening.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring your Terran shadow with you," said Odo before Nerys got a chance to tell him another one of her lies.

The major's polite smile vanished. "For your information, I haven't seen Tony all day. I came to check that you had adequate security planned for this afternoon's match."

"Yes, everything is ready," he replied coldly, noticing that it had taken her no time to guess which 'Terran shadow' he was referring to. "I'll send you the details as soon as I get back to my office."

"Good. I also wanted to let you know I'll be manning Ops since Captain Sisko will be here to see the match." She turned on her heels and Odo watched her walk out, now wishing he hadn't angered her by mentioning Verdeschi.

Turning back to the bar, Odo wasn't particularly surprised to find Quark had returned. "You know, Odo, I'd give you a drink if you drank," said the Ferengi sympathetically. "You look as if you could do with one. Personally, I think it's disgusting. They should have more respect for you and Maya."

Having witnessed Maya's insensitivity to Verdeschi's declaration of love the previous evening, Odo wasn't so sure she deserved any respect. Under different circumstances, he would have had heartfelt sympathy for Verdeschi -- the constable had, after all, suffered similar disappointment at Nerys' hands in the past. But Odo's sympathy was severely dampened by the suspicion that the human would no doubt attempt to get over his disappointment by flirting -- or perhaps even having an affair -- with Nerys.

As to the major herself, Odo had to come to the same conclusion as before: she didn't love him and never would. He couldn't blame her for looking elsewhere if she wanted to, and he certainly wouldn't stand in her way.

"Come."

The door responded to Maya's voice command and opened, allowing Helena into the Psychon's living-room. Maya had obviously made no effort to unpack her things; all the boxes were neatly piled in a corner, untouched, and, aside from Maya herself sitting on the couch, the only sign that anyone was living in the quarters was a half-finished bowl of replicated spaghetti carbonara on the dining table.

"Helena," said Maya with a smile, looking up from the padd she was reading.

"Well, you look a lot more cheerful," remarked Helena as she approached. "Did you get some sleep?"

Maya nodded and smiled sheepishly. "Thank you for giving me those pills. I felt a bit guilty sleeping during the day, but you're right, it really helped. It's certainly cleared up my mind a lot."

"I'm glad to hear it." Helena sat down on the couch beside Maya and looked at the padd she was holding. "What are you reading?"

"I'm trying to see if I can wrap my mind around some of the technology they have here," explained Maya. She handed the padd to Helena, but the doctor couldn't understand any of the complex equations in the document, and simply gave the padd back.

"It's... not as easy as I had hoped," admitted Maya, putting the padd beside her. "Replicators and transporters are easy to understand; they're not unlike some of the matter-energy conversion technology we had on Psychon, though I never learned as much about that as I should have. What is giving me the most trouble is warp technology. It wasn't something I ever studied on Psychon, even though we had obtained faster than light ships by the time my brother left. I'm finding it difficult to understand how the warp field works, or rather, how it can move a whole ship into subspace and still maintain temporal integrity while travelling at close to infinite speeds... anyway, I suppose there had to be something I wouldn't understand. The Federation is more advanced than Psychon was," she concluded wistfully.

Helena smiled. "Well, I certainly wouldn't understand any of that. Julian was kind enough to give me some documentation about 24th century medical instruments. If I have to, I'm sure I can learn how to use them, but I don't think I'll ever understand how they work." She paused briefly to mark the transition and then asked, "Are you coming to the soccer match? It'll be starting in about half an hour's time."

Maya's expression immediately closed. "No, I have a lot of studying to do. I've seen Tony playing football before."

"It isn't just Tony playing -- you know Bill, Patrick, Alexei and Bob will be there too," Helena reminded her, although she was observing Maya's expression intently. "Have you two had an argument?"

"We two who?" asked Maya lightly.

"You and Tony, who else?" said Helena sternly. "As far as I can tell, you've hardly spoken to him at all since you came back from Alpha last night."

Maya shrugged her shoulders. "We can't get along all the time."

"Well, that's the point: you usually do. I've rarely seen you argue about anything!" Helena placed her hand on Maya's and squeezed it comfortingly. "Come on, Maya, tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, I'm sure you can work it out; you know how much Tony loves you and --"

"Oh, I know he goes and tells everyone how much he loves me," said Maya, withdrawing her hand with barely disguised anger. "But that evidently hasn't stopped him from seeing someone else!"

Helena was amazed. "Seeing someone else? Tony? But that's not possible. Who could he possibly --" She interrupted herself and tried to think of anyone Tony might have been seeing. The only person who came to mind was Sandra; he had been talking to her the previous evening, and they had comforted each other when the Moon was destroyed. But Helena knew Sandra and Tony had no feelings for each other now; besides, Sandra was a good friend of Maya's, who surely wouldn't betray her this way.

Thinking more carefully, Helena remembered a few stray remarks over the past few days, little more than hearsay and innuendo, but which all pointed to one person... "It can't be Major Kira, surely."

Maya threw up her hands melodramatically -- something she had, ironically, picked up from Tony. "There, you see, everyone has noticed. It's so obvious that this whole station is talking about them."

"Oh Maya!" exclaimed Helena in sympathy. "I can't believe Tony would be so... such a... It doesn't sound like him."

Helena had known Tony for years, and in all that time, she had never heard so much as a rumour that he ever behaved as anything but a perfect gentleman. As far as she knew, he had been totally devoted to Maya for the past four years, resisting any advances from other women -- Shermeen, for instance. On the other hand, Helena did know that their relationship was platonic -- perhaps it had been a little too optimistic to think Tony would be content with that for this length of time. Not that this was a thought Helena cared to share with Maya. And it still didn't excuse Tony.

"How do you know that there's anything going on between them?" asked Helena. "They've been working together for the past few days; it's only logical that they should be spending a lot of time together."

"Quark said he knew they were flirting," said Maya, though Helena could see some doubt in her eyes.

"That's just hearsay, Maya. Did Quark actually see anything?"

Maya shook her head. "But everyone is certain something's happening. Even I guessed it was Major Kira when Quark suggested Tony might be with someone else."

"I really can't believe he would do that," said Helena hopefully. "He's not even going to be on the station for that much longer. Why would he be interested in a woman he's only going to know for a week?"

As she spoke, it occurred to Helena that there was at least one good reason she could think of. Looking at Maya, she also realised that the possibility hadn't eluded the Psychon either. It did make sense; maybe Tony was tired of platonic relations. Helena was very disappointed, and angry at Tony for being so inconsiderate of Maya's feelings.

"If this is true... If you find that he really is flirting with Kira, then you can't let him get away with it," said Helena, her outrage increasing as she thought about it. "That sort of behaviour is unpardonable."

"It doesn't really matter," said Maya with a half-hearted shrug. "He can do what he likes: I won't be seeing him for much longer anyway."

Helena stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Why? What do you mean?"

"Whether you go to Starbase 571 or return to our universe, I won't be coming with you."

"'The half time air was sweet perfume'," quoted John as he got his drink from the bar. He sipped it cautiously, feeling Helena's careful eye on him. "Hmm, it's been a long time since I drank alcohol; I'd better watch out."

Helena smiled indulgently. "Julian said that most of the Earth drinks they have here are actually based on a substance called synthehol, which gives you the buzz of alcohol, but without any of the unpleasant side-effects."

"Sounds like the reverse of Tony's beer," exclaimed John with a grin. "Well, it certainly tastes right, and if it means I don't have to worry about a hangover tomorrow, then it definitely sounds good to me!"

John looked around Quark's with satisfaction. Nearly all the Alphans had made their way to the bar to watch the football match; in fact, there was hardly a Starfleet or a Bajoran uniform to be seen. It was still only mid-afternoon, so John assumed most of the station's regular personnel were on duty anyway.

The mood in the bar was euphoric; Alpha's blue team was up 1-0 at half time. Deep Space Nine's holosuite had been put to good use; the game was taking place in what looked like a real soccer field, with six real players and five holographic ones on each team. The referee and his assistants were also holograms, no doubt to ensure their impartiality. John was extremely impressed with the quality of the holographic illusions.

As he sipped his drink, John felt more relaxed than he had been in a long time. Although he knew it wouldn't last, he felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders now that Alpha was destroyed. He knew he would be back to worrying about the Alphans' future after the match, but for the moment, he was content to enjoy the happy atmosphere.

Looking around, he caught sight of Sisko and Dax, towering over the Alphan crowd. They had evidently come to see the match; hardly surprising considering Dax' monster of a husband was on the Starfleet team. Seeing the captain, John remembered that there was one topic he had been meaning to discuss with him for some time already. The very first thing he had noticed in Sisko's office was the baseball the captain kept on his desk. John appreciated soccer after his years working with Europeans -- but his heart really belonged to baseball.

"Maybe we could go and talk to Captain Sisko," he remarked innocently.

"About baseball, perhaps?"

There were times when John wondered if Helena was becoming psychic after all these years of working with him. She had an uncanny ability to guess what he was planning, even when he thought he was being very careful to conceal his intentions. Helena smiled and half shrugged to indicate they might just as well go.

"You can be proud of your team, Commander," said Dax once the four had exchanged some small talk and the conversation had drifted naturally onto the soccer match. "The Alphans are good. Fraser in particular has some excellent moves, and Verdeschi is a fantastic midfield. I'm ashamed to say I don't think the Starfleet team is doing so well. Miles and Worf are a bit rusty, and I'm not sure that Julian and Ensign Hauptman were wise choices. If I see Julian miss a pass once more, I'm going to climb up there to replace him myself! His genetic engineering obviously didn't include foot-eye coordination."

"Alan did say something about this genetic engineering," said John, exchanging a glance with his wife. "To be quite honest, we thought that might give the Starfleet team an unfair advantage."

"The ones with the advantage are the Alphans," replied Dax with a grin, "because they actually know how to play! The only Starfleet officer who's doing really well is Lieutenant Dos Santos in the goal -- which is fortunate considering how many balls he's having to deflect. The Starfleet team is too much on the defensive; they're concentrating on stopping the Alphans from scoring goals instead of thinking about scoring themselves. I'm not surprised Fraser managed to score only fifteen minutes into the game."

"Bill will be getting a hero's welcome when he comes out of the holosuite," agreed John. Realising that neither Sisko nor Helena were interested in soccer, he broached the topic he was really looking forward to discussing. "A lot of Alphans enjoy soccer, but it never really caught on in the States; I'm a baseball man myself."

"I do enjoy a good game of baseball," said Sisko enthusiastically. "It isn't played nowadays; most competitive sports were banned in the 21st century. But it's still possible to view old matches in the holosuite."

"Really?" exclaimed John with interest. "I'd be fascinated to know if the World Series results were the same in this universe as in ours."

"Ask me any year, and I can give you the finalists," challenged Sisko with a grin.

"1998?"