Archive of Our Own ^beta

Two days before Bareil's accident, Julian Bashir left the station, bound for one of the planets on his list. He did not know what was coming, but nobody else did either. He could not be blamed for his ignorance.

The day before the accident, Tranquility and Leyona arrived on their own transport from Bajor. They and Temperance would be leaving for Omarion, once Bareil had arrived and begun his planned negotiations. It had been months since they had seen their homeworld, and they were looking forward to it.

They spent the night with those of their family who were on the station, relishing the chance to Link with others of their kind after so long. They would later be glad they had taken the opportunity to regenerate, and to exchange news with their older siblings. It would help them all greatly in the time to come.

Temperance was not a member of the medical staff on Deep Space 9, but they had become used to him observing goings-on in the infirmary, sometimes accompanied by his stone-faced Attendant, who would take notes according to his instructions.

They were there when the emergency alert was sent from the docking ring, and he knew at once that this was a serious matter by the abrupt shift in atmosphere.

He did not bother to ask what was afoot. He simply ordered Kemath to wait for him, and shifted into a small, four-winged avian creature he had first encountered on a world he visited millennia ago, which a human would have likened to a Terran hummingbird, save that it was several times larger and clearly built for speed.

In this maneuverable form, he kept pace with the medical team as they made their way to the docking ring with their supplies. Jabara glanced up briefly as they entered the turbolift, and frowned when she noticed him, but made no comment.

They emerged into a scene of frantic chaos. Temperance continued to hover, listening as O'Brien explained the situation.

"Of all the bloody times for Julian to be in the Gamma Quadrant," the Chief muttered darkly as Jabara led her team toward the airlock connected to the docked transport.

If this had happened a few months earlier, Temperance would have left then, having learned all he was likely to. But he knew who was supposed to be here about this time, and his suspicions were confirmed as Kai Winn emerged, and soon after, an unconscious Vedek Bareil, who was immediately surrounded by anxious medics.

He had learned the skill levels of the station's medical personnel by now. Even at a glance, it was plain to him that Bareil's condition was severe, and after O'Brien's explanation of how he had come by such grievous injuries, there was little doubt the Vedek's life hung on the abilities of those available.

And it was Temperance, and the challenge he had set, that had drawn Bashir away from his post at this critical moment.

No, he would not have intervened, a few months earlier. But now, Vedek Bareil was Tranquility's friend. That changed things.

He flew down to where Commander Sisko stood, and resumed his humanoid form.

"Commander, a moment, if you please."

Sisko spun toward him, clearly surprised. Then his expression changed to a frown.

"Chamomile, can this wait?" he asked, voice tight.

"Not if Bareil is to survive," Temperance told him plainly. "I require permission from you to assist in an official capacity."

Sisko gave him a penetrating look, several unasked questions in his eyes, then seemed to come to a decision.

"Given the circumstances, and with our CMO off-station, we need all the help we can get. I'll give you the clearance you need to do what you can." His frown returned, and his next words held a note of steel. "Don't make me regret this, Ambassador."

"That is not in my immediate plans, Commander," he assured him.

Hours passed. Tranquility found themself part of a little gathering in the station's chapel. Major Kira was there, of course, as well as Nesro Vidari, the usually-cheerful school teacher who had become acquainted with both Kira and Bareil at the gratitude festival. The Bajoran women were both praying, sometimes separately, sometimes in quiet unison; prayers to the Prophets to guide the hands of those in the infirmary, to save Bareil if it was their will.

Leyona sat  in her own corner, with her book of poems on her lap, her tail beating an anxious tattoo on the floor beside her, and her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She had become close to Bareil, as Tranquility themself had. Once, they had worried it might be too close, but the events of the festival had changed things between them. They trusted Leyona more now than they had before, trusted her enough to allow the friendship to flourish, and flourish it had.

Now, they wondered if that had been wise, even as they held their own tumultuous emotions in check. Bajor had not known true peace for a long time by the reckoning of its people. Bareil could have been injured or killed at any moment before this, whether by some machination of Kai Winn's, or a splinter sect of the religion who believed he was dooming them by daring to negotiate a treaty with the Cardassians, or simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time when some other conflict broke out.

And it is too late for you to consider such things now, they thought. Your life is entwined with his, just as Leyona's is. And it is as well, for Temperance would not now be helping him were that not so.

They were startled out of their reverie by the appearance of Kemath, who bowed respectfully to them as they turned to regard her.

"What news?" they asked, keeping their tone calm with some effort.

The two Bajorans broke off mid-prayer. The very room seemed to hold its breath.

"My Founder was successful, as I knew he would be," Kemath stated flatly. "The Vedek will live, though his recovery will take time."

Major Kira let out a shuddering sigh, a prayer of gratitude tumbling from her lips in a barely coherent rush as tears flowed freely from her eyes. Nesro drew her into a comforting embrace, even as Leyona also began to weep.

"Is that any way to comport yourself in the presence of the one you serve?" Kemath demanded of her fellow Vorta.

"That will do, Kemath," Tranquility told her with unusual sternness, reaching to stroke Leyona's head gently. Her sobs quieted immediately, and the tension caused by the harsh remonstration eased. "If her actions displease me, I will tell her directly. Convey our gratitude to my brother, and make no mention of Leyona's tears. She shares my relief, and that is all you should consider relevant."

To their satisfaction, Kemath bowed her head, wrapping her tail deferentially around herself.

"This servant apologises for causing offense. One will do as the Founder bids."

She retreated without another word.

"Is she always like that?" Nesro asked Kira in a low murmur.

"Kemath? Oh, that was tame. I've heard her give speeches caustic enough to strip paint."

"I'll endeavour not to offend her, then," Nesro said.

As quickly as Kira had broken down in tears, both women started laughing, and once begun, they couldn't seem to stop. Neither noticed as Tranquility beckoned to Leyona, and they retreated to a more peaceful corner of the station.

As tended to be the way of things on Deep Space 9, the relief was short-lived. Bareil's condition was not as stable as Temperance had hoped, and it was not long before Tranquility found themself in the infirmary with both of them, Kira, Sisko, and Kai Winn. It had taken their brother but a moment to explain the situation to them via a Link, and even as a battle of wills was waged around them, they were finalising a plan of their own. The decision they had come to was not easy for them, but under the circumstances, they could see no other way to ensure a favourable outcome.

"If I may," they said at last, moving closer to the bed, "I should like to speak with my friend."

"By all means," Temperance agreed, retreating a pace.

Tranquility turned to Winn, whose intent gaze seemed to be pinning them in place.

"Could you send Leyona in? I require her presence."

"Don't presume you can give me such orders, Ambassador," Winn responded coolly. "I am beholden to none but the Prophets."

Tranquility sighed.

"Let me be clearer, then. I require Leyona's presence. Yours is another matter. Commander Sisko can carry my message to my Attendant, if you will not, but that is his choice to make."

"I will not stand for this treatment—" Winn began, but Sisko cut across her before she could continue.

"Of course, Ambassador. I'll send her in at once. Kai Winn, you had best come with me."

"Emissary," Winn protested, "surely you won't concede to this on your own station!"

"I see no reason to make more of a scene, especially given Bareil's current condition. I'm sure you don't want to upset him." He beckoned to her, and with a last vicious glare in Tranquility's direction, she flounced out in his wake.

"That upstart Changeling hasn't heard the last of this, you mark my words," Winn muttered as the door closed behind them. "The nerve of her!"

"Them," Ben corrected calmly. "Bromeliad uses neutral pronouns."

He turned in time to see her visibly gather her tattered composure. "You must have misheard me, Emissary. If I said anything at all, it was unrelated to the insult dealt me just now."

"Of course, Eminence. Such unpleasantness would be unbecoming of a Kai." Ben took a well-hidden but no less savage pleasure in the expression that comment induced, brief though its appearance was.

Leyona had been waiting a few metres from the door, and he beckoned her over.
"The Ambassador wants to see you," he said as she approached. "Tell them I'm taking Kai Winn to get a cup of tea—she seems a little tense."

"I'll let them know," Leyona said, smiling briefly before she entered the infirmary, leaving Winn to follow Ben reluctantly away from the source of her present tension.

"Why didn't you send me out?" Nerys asked after Sisko and Winn had made their exit.

Bromeliad gave her a wry smile. "You would not have left, even if I had wished it. But as it is, I need your assistance, if all is to go smoothly."

"What was that performance in aid of?" Chamomile asked, drawing closer again. "Upsetting Kai Winn was hardly a move in your favour."

"On the contrary," Bromeliad countered. "Upsetting her caused Sisko to intervene, thus ensuring she was removed from the immediate vicinity. It would be unwise indeed if she were privy to what unfolds in the next few minutes."

The infirmary door opened and closed again. Nerys glanced in that direction, and saw Leyona hurrying over, her tail raised in curiosity, at least until she was near enough to Bromeliad, at which point she wrapped it around her legs in deference.

"Commander Sisko informed me I was needed, Founder," she said, inclining her head toward her ambassador. "He also said he'd take Kai Winn to get refreshments."

Bromeliad glanced at Chamomile, and Nerys could swear a brief look of triumph flashed across their features.

"Good," they responded, their tone serene. "Now we may proceed." They glanced around at all those present—aside from Chamomile and Leyona, only Nerys, Jabara and Bareil were in the room. "With the notable exception of my brother, who will likely as not inform our family, I am swearing you all to secrecy," they said. "Once each of you leaves this room, you will have a part to play."

"Bromeliad, what are you doing?" Bareil's voice was weak but his confusion was plain.

Bromeliad came to his bedside, looking down at him gravely.

"I do not like the sound of this experimental drug, Antos," they said. "The risk is too great for my taste."

"If it's the only way I can attend the peace talks, I'll take that risk," Bareil insisted firmly. "You know how important this is to me. I have to be there. Everything could fall apart if I abstain."

"I understand your concern," they told him with surprising gentleness, "but there is one important fact you have not considered." Their form began to melt and shift, hair and eyes darkening. "I am a Changeling," they said, their voice deeper, richer, more masculine, and very familiar.

A chill ran up Nerys' spine as Bromeliad shifted into an astonishingly accurate duplicate of Bareil, down to the robes he often wore and the way he held himself.

"Prophets," the Bareil in the bed whispered, staring up at his mirror image. "You don't mean—"

"I will take your place. I know you well enough to play the part to perfection."

Nerys shivered. This was getting more unsettling by the moment.

"I would never ask this of you," Bareil protested.

"Which only makes it more perfect," Bromeliad countered. "Even with other Changelings present, none would suspect you made such a request."

"You would give up the chance to see your homeworld? For my sake?"

"There will be other chances, Antos. I can wait a little longer. Your life is worth the sacrifice."

"I might be in stasis for weeks," he reminded them.

"Not if you are taken to the Dominion for treatment," they told him calmly, still in his voice. "In any case, I regenerated the night before last. I won't need to do so again for a month at least."

"Wait a minute," Nerys said, speaking for the first time since the ambassador had turned themself into Bareil like it was nothing. "He's going where?"

"I admit, that statement also took me by surprise," Chamomile remarked.

"We have medical facilities in the Dominion that could repair the damage done to his circulatory system," Bromeliad explained placidly.

"I'm sorry, Ambassador, but knowing what kind of shit your people pulled with the Vorta and Jem'Hadar, I'm not sure I trust you with anybody's well-being, medical or otherwise."" Nerys was on high alert now.

"He will be there under my protection," Bromeliad told her, still infuriatingly calm. "Leyona will be watching over him, and speaking on my behalf if there are any protests from my family."

"I will?" Leyona seemed as surprised by this as Nerys was.

Bromeliad turned to her, a gentle smile softening their assumed features. "It is necessary. You will not be alone, but I need you to represent me. Besides, if you remained at my side, it would arouse immediate suspicion. Bareil Antos does not have a Vorta Attendant."

"Bareil Antos hasn't agreed to anything as yet," the real Bareil interjected. "I can tell you've put a lot of thought into this plan of yours, and I am grateful you would consider it, but I can't let you put your standing here at risk like this. If anyone finds out what you've done—"

"You have yet to hear the plan in its entirety," Bromeliad said, turning back to him. "I assure you, I took everything into account."

"You don't have access to all my notes."

"As a matter of fact, I have read everything you committed to PADD and paper on this subject, and several others. Changelings have perfect recall. I am already drafting responses to the most likely questions based on the knowledge I have."

"You invaded his privacy?" Nerys burst out. "He trusted you, and—"

"Nerys, calm down, please." Bareil gave her a weary smile as she looked down at him. "I didn't keep my plans under lock and key, and they're a Changeling—it's in their nature to gather information on those they spend time with. How else can they know whom to trust?"

"Antos," Nerys pleaded desperately, "you don't understand how dangerous the Founders can be—if anything happened to you—"

"If either of you will allow me to finish," Bromeliad cut in, this time in their normal voice, though their appearance remained unaltered, "you will discover that I have addressed all your concerns."

Nerys wanted to argue further, but Bareil seemed more tired than he had when she first arrived, and his face now bore a look of weary resignation.

"It can't hurt to hear them out," he told her.

She sighed. He was right—she didn't have to like it, though.

"Fine. What's this intricate and flawless plan of yours?"

It was intricate. And despite her reservations, damn near flawless. Once everyone had been filled in on the details, even Bareil had to admit it was brilliant, in theory. Putting it into practice wasn't so simple, but it would have been much more difficult if they didn't have Chamomile. For once, the Founders' need to keep everything around them under tight control was going to work in their favour.

After the initial arrangements were made, Bareil was prepared for stasis. As the sedative was taking hold, Nerys kissed his forehead gently.

"See you when you wake up," she whispered.

"Be careful, Nerys," he whispered back. "I ... love you ..." His eyes were almost closed, his face relaxing into sleep.

"I love you too, Antos," Nerys murmured, not sure whether he could hear her.

Then things began to move very fast indeed. In almost no time, Bromeliad was reclining in Bareil's bed, settling into their assigned role, while Jabara hovered, making a show of checking their vitals. The real Bareil, in his stasis unit, had been beamed onto one of the docked Dominion ships with Leyona, and Chamomile was coaching Nerys on how to perform her part in the show they were about to put on for everyone else on the station. She channeled her irritation at the Founder into her act as she finally left the infirmary.

"I'll kill him," Kira announced without preamble as she stormed into Ops.

"Who?" Jadzia asked, curious despite herself.

"Bashir. Abandoning his post, leaving the damn Founder to clean up after him—This is what happens when the Federation assigns someone barely out of the Academy as CMO of an important station!"

"What's happened with Bareil?" Jadzia asked shrewdly.

"What isn't happening with Bareil? He's taking a drug that has a one-in-five chance of killing him just so he can keep going for these negotiations! If he dies because Bashir wasn't here to talk sense into him—"

"I don't think even Julian can cure stubbornness," Jadzia cut in. "If he could, he probably wouldn't be out there right now, trying to help the Jem'Hadar."

Kira huffed out an exasperated breath.

"Stupid noble fool."

"I take it you need a runabout?" Benjamin came over to them, a wry smile playing about his mouth. "If you're going after Doctor Bashir, that is."

Kira seemed to visibly pull herself together.

"Yes, Sir, if that's not too much trouble."

"Not at all. The Mekong’s available right now. I'll make arrangements."

"Speaking of arrangements, thanks for the save earlier."

"With Kai Winn?" His smile broadened. "It was my pleasure. I sweetened the deal with a plate of shortbread—Would you believe she actually complimented my baking? Asked me if the Prophets had blessed me with the recipe."

A strange expression flitted across Kira's face.

"How—nice of her," she said in a tone that didn't sound particularly enthusiastic.

"Something the matter, Major?" Benjamin asked.

Kira visibly composed herself. "It's nothing, Sir. My mind was elsewhere."

Jadzia made a mental note to ask her what that had been about later, and went back to what she'd been working on when she was interrupted.

"Stop pacing. You're picking up bad habits from the kalantai."

Leyona turned to frown at Kemath, who was sitting on a cushioned bench with a PADD on her lap.

"You wouldn't be saying such things if you were leaving the one you serve farther behind every moment," she retorted. "If I am anxious, it is to be expected."

"You are doing the Founder's will. You should feel blessed to have been so trusted."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I won't worry about them."

"They're a God. Their plans are as flawless as they are intricate. You have nothing to worry about—Unless, of course, you  have allowed doubt into your head."

"You know I haven't." Leyona retreated to her own bench, collecting her book of Bajoran poetry and flipping to a favourite page.

"That's probably full of heresy, you know!" Kemath called.

"My Founder approved of it!" Leyona countered. "In any case, it was a gift!"

"Bareil's influence is making you soft!"

Leyona bit back a sharper retort, drew in a deep breath, let it out.

"I'm going to my quarters," she said, standing up. "I need to centre myself."

She left the chamber without looking back at Kemath. She couldn't wait for Kira to join them—she'd have someone pleasant to spend time with, then.

"Are you sure you're not staying for the negotiations?" Nesro asked as she accompanied Nerys to the runabout pad.

"I can't, Nesro."

"Surely someone else could fetch Doctor Bashir—"

"Commander Sisko needs to stay here to oversee the proceedings, and Dax has diplomacy training." She sighed. "I have to do something practical or I'll scream. And Antos doesn't need me doing that in the middle of his peace talks." She stopped, turning toward Nesro and channeling her genuine concern for the real Bareil into her expression. "You'll look out for him, won't you?" she asked softly.

Her friend gave her a reassuring smile.

"Of course I will, Nerys. I'll make sure he takes care of himself."

"Thank you, Vidari." Nerys didn't need to feign gratitude.

"I would have done it without being asked," Nesro told her. "This treaty is important for Bajor's future, and Antos is important for the future of the treaty."

And you still have feelings for him. Nerys couldn't honestly say she minded—even under the influence of zanthi fever, she'd not been upset by the idea of Nesro's attraction. It wasn't something Bajorans got jealous about.

"I'll look in on him between classes," Nesro told her now. "Make sure he's drinking enough water and so on." She sobered then, reaching to take Nerys' hand in her own. "He'll be all right," she said with grave certainty.

"I hope so," Nerys murmured.

"The Prophets will see to it," Nesro said, then released her hand. "Off you go, now."

Before the tide of emotion rising in her could shatter her facade, Nerys did as bidden.

Tranquility didn't need to sleep. Jabara was pretending to monitor them while the drug was taking effect, but that was purely for the benefit of any solids who might come looking. They were passing the time by drafting the speech they would give in Bareil's name, making sure they accounted for everything. They had also played out numerous scenarios in their mind, ensuring they would respond as Antos would have in those circumstances. They were confident in their abilities, but it never hurt to be more prepared.

The door opened, admitting Winn and her aid. Tranquility sat up in the bed, smiling over at the Kai as she drew near.

"Legate Turrel has arrived," Winn said, her mask of kindness in place. "Are you ready?"

"Jabara has just declared me fit to leave, so yes." It did not matter, at this point, that even under the best of circumstances, the true Bareil would have had to remain in the infirmary for longer than this—Winn did not know that, and she did not need to.

"The Prophets have been kind indeed." She smiled graciously at Jabara. "You have served them well in this, child."

"My duty was to my patient, Eminence," Jabara responded humbly. "I'm only grateful the Ambassador was here to help."

"Chamomile is not here now," Winn pointed out, a little of her true nature showing.

"No, but that is due to a prior engagement. His people keep to a strict schedule—such things are very important to them."

"Yes, I'm sure they are," Winn said, a trifle dismissively.

"I'll pass on your regards when he returns," Jabara told her, as if she had not shown any disrespect. She turned to Tranquility. "Remember, Bareil, don't overtax yourself."

"I'll be careful," they assured her in a perfect imitation of their friend's gentle, reassuring manner.

Then they rose, and followed Winn out, to begin their performance in earnest.

Nerys was glad to have the runabout to retreat to, because the Dominion ship was not built with the comfort of solids in mind. Even the Vorta's quarters were sparsely furnished, and she had been tempted to sneak some replicated cushions in for Leyona's comfort, but suspected Chamomile would notice if she did.

More than once, she had visited Bareil, despite his being in stasis and deep in artificial sleep besides. She talked to him, heedless of the odd looks she got from Kemath or the Jem'Hadar guards. Chamomile didn't stop her, and his Attendant had to respect that. It helped, a little, to talk to him through their journey.

The ship moved faster than any runabout, very nearly as fast as the Defiant, and it had the added benefit of not needing to pass security checks to get where they were going. She would only have to spend one night sleeping in the pilot's chair of the Mekong. She preferred it to the bunks in the back, which meant they were available for guests. Chamomile couldn't dictate the level of comfort she provided for anyone she invited to share her vessel with her.

She reclined the chair as far back as it would go, and tried to make herself comfortable beneath the blanket she had replicated. At first, all she could hear were the gentle hum of the runabout's servers and the distant vibrations of the ship's engines. Usually, this would have lulled her, but tonight, she was too anxious to settle.

So when Leyona's singing reached her ears, despite two doors being between them, she decided to look in on her guest.

She found her sitting on her chosen bunk, her tail wrapped loosely around herself, as if for comfort. She stopped singing as Nerys came in, looking up in surprise, and slight guilt.

"Did I disturb you, Major? I'm sorry if I—"

"No, you're fine," Nerys assured hurriedly. "I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I," Leyona admitted. She looked down again. "You may not approve of it, but I miss my Founder."

Nerys remembered, as if through a mist, how distressed Leyona had been during the festival. Antos had fought down his own zanthi-fever-induced infatuation to help her, and it had benefited all the Vorta in the long run. She was still so proud of him for that.

"I understand," she said now. "This must be hard for you."

"Kemath says I should be glad my Founder entrusted this mission to me," Leyona murmured, the tip of her tail twitching anxiously.

"Kemath isn't always right," Nerys said, unable to keep an irritated note out of her voice.

"She thinks she is," Leyona observed, but a slight smile was tugging at her lips.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Nerys said, coming further into the cabin and sitting on the bunk opposite Leyona's, "but she and I don't really get along."

"I did," Leyona admitted, "but I thought it was a difference of beliefs. You seem similar in some ways."

Nerys bit back a defensive retort. Leyona had been on Bajor most of the time since Bromeliad joined the diplomatic team.

"When I call someone out on their lamakashit, I have a good reason for it. When she does it, it's to make herself feel more superior than she already does, half the time."

Leyona actually laughed, then blushed lilac.

"That wasn't kind of me," she said. "Kemath means well—she's just—"

"Mean," Nerys finished firmly. "Kemath-17 is just plain mean. And you don't have to take her shit just because you're both Vorta."

Leyona's smile returned, broader this time.

"Thank you, Major."

"We're both off-duty right now. Call me Kira."

"All right. I'll try to remember."

"I heard you singing earlier," Nerys said, moving the conversation into calmer waters. "You have a lovely voice."

An even deeper lilac blush suffused Leyona's cheeks.

"You think so? I'm still learning."

"I really do. Do you have any favourite songs yet?"

"I only really know Bajoran hymns, but Bareil said he'd introduce me to some contemporary musicians so I could broaden my experience."

"Are you excited?"

"A little, but also nervous—I don't know what they'll think of me."

"What they think doesn't matter, Leyona. But for what it's worth, if Bareil's choosing them, you shouldn't worry about them being cruel. He'd make sure they understand you're new to this, and they'll be patient with you."

"I hope so. Music is—I didn't know it could be so wonderful." Her eyes shone with a childlike delight.

"Maybe you could teach Weyoun a little of what you've learned when we get back," Nerys suggested. "I know he's interested."

"The Voice might not approve," Leyona said automatically, then seemed to hesitate. "I'll ask him," she said at last. "Things have—changed."

Bareil was handling himself very well, despite all. He never once raised his voice, but always seemed to know just how to respond to impress or placate the Legate. Adami would  have been very pleased by how swiftly things seemed to be progressing, if it weren't so suspicious.

The day before, he had excused himself slightly early, pleading weariness, despite not appearing the least tired. And this morning, he had eaten in his quarters instead of with her. In all other ways, he'd been polite, respectful, but that was part of the problem. He was dealing with things too well, especially so soon after the accident that had nearly taken him to the Prophets long before his time.

And as she listened to him negotiate with Turrel, she noticed something else. He didn't even have a PADD with him, yet he always had a response ready for any question that came up. And once that question had been answered, he would guide the conversation back to the exact point where it had diverged. His precision was uncanny. She would have found it difficult to keep up with this Cardassian, and she had been matching wits with them for decades. Bareil had much less experience in that regard. No amount of preparation accounted for this level of skill.

The Emissary had noticed nothing out of the ordinary, but he didn't know Bareil as well as she did. And for all his many talents, he was altogether too trusting, especially when Changelings were about.

Changelings. Bareil...

She had not seen Bromeliad leave. The last she had seen of them had been when they turned her out of the infirmary. She had heard they had left with Chamomile, but he had made an appearance before boarding his ship. And Bromeliad's aid had also vanished without due ceremony.

It was too early for her to voice such suspicions to anyone—all she had was conjecture. Loath though she was to admit it, an accusation like this needed definitive proof.

Outwardly, she remained composed, but she paid closer attention to Bareil as the day's proceedings went on.

Nerys had expected the medical facility Chamomile had chosen to be large, but the idea it might be visible from orbit hadn't even occurred to her. And yet,  there it was, a monumental artificial structure bigger than most Bajoran cities, clearly distinguishable through the nearest viewport. Admittedly, it had been built on an otherwise barren moon without any atmosphere to obscure it, but still.

"What could the Founders possibly need all that for?" The incredulous question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Chamomile glanced at her, then back to the screen.

"Do you really want the answer to that, Major? It may not please you."

Nerys thought of the Jem'Hadar, and shook her head.

"Forget I said anything."

Chamomile nodded, then turned to Kemath.

"Send the message," he told her. "They likely already know we are here—All Teyolan needs is confirmation."

Kemath nodded, and tapped an icon on her own console.

It was less than a minute before they received a hail, which Chamomile answered.

The male Vorta who appeared onscreen actually smiled upon seeing them.

"One is truly honoured to have been entrusted with so important a task," he began, clearly addressing Chamomile.

"Dispense with the Ceremonial, Teyolan. It makes our guest uneasy."

"My apologies, Founder." the  Vorta, Teyolan, shifted his gaze toward Nerys. "We have prepared accommodations for you, Major Kira. Your assigned guide will meet you in the reception chamber."

"Thank you, Teyolan," she responded, smiling despite herself.

"You will be given a security tag when  you arrive," Teyolan explained. "I hope that won't be a problem."

"Not at all," Nerys told him. "I've been to Kurill Prime—the part visitors are allowed in, anyway. I know the protocol."

"The patient will be transported directly into the ward assigned to him and his team," Teyolan continued. "We will keep you all updated on our progress with him."

Nerys nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She'd known that was going to happen, had made sure to visit him a final time in the last hour before their arrival, but if she tried to say anything about him right now, her composure would crumble.

As if knowing she would be needed, Leyona moved up beside Nerys, and spoke in a clear, confident tone she had rarely heard from her before.

"Major Kira must be allowed to visit Bareil between treatments," she said. "It will set her more at ease if you give her leave to do so."

Teyolan nodded.

"I'll add that to the system. You are the distant Founder's Attendant?"

"That's correct."

"Your assigned quarters are near to Major Kira's. I hope you will find them to your liking."

"I should like to meet the medical team before I am escorted there," Leyona said.

"Of course. I'll tell them to expect you. You can accompany the patient."

Nerys tuned out the rest of the conversation. Things were moving faster again, and she felt thoroughly out of her depth. It didn't help that Leyona was not acting like herself—she expected it was due to some Vorta thing she didn't understand, but it still unnerved her. She wondered how Bareil would have reacted to this side of his gentle, anxious friend.

He wouldn't be all that surprised, a part of her observed drily. He seems to understand and accept a lot more about the Founders and Vorta than you do.

"Major?" Chamomile was looking at her, and she was abruptly aware that the transmission had ended and she had been addressed.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready for transport?" Chamomile asked in the irritated tone of one who did not like having to repeat themself.

"Yes, of course." Nerys felt her cheeks burn and looked down.

Pull yourself together, she told herself sternly. You're a foreign diplomat and a member of the Bajoran militia, act like it!

"Kemath and I will be speaking with Teyolan," Chamomile told her. "I'll send word if we learn anything."

Leyona laid a light hand on Nerys' arm, and she looked over at her to see the face of her friend looking back.

"I'll join you as soon as I can," Leyona assured her. "My business with the medics shouldn't take long."

"Okay," Nerys said, willing her voice not to shake. She had the sudden realisation that she was about to be alone in the heart of Dominion territory, for an unknown length of time.

Prophets, she prayed just before Kemath activated the transport sequence, help me get through this without falling apart.

She felt herself dematerialise, and in the moment before she reconstituted in the facility itself, she swore she heard a faint response, deep within her very being. The voice sounded like Bareil's.

Have faith.

"She knows."

"She doesn't know anything, Jabara."

"All right, fine, she suspects. You need to be careful—he was right about what could be at risk if your cover was blown."

"Did you give anything away when she questioned you?"

"No, of course not—I know the risks as well as you!"

"Then you have nothing to fear."

"What if she finds out?"

"How can she? My shift is intricate—you have seen it yourself. It passes most tricorder scans flawlessly."

"Doctor Bashir would be fascinated by that—I'd ask how you managed it, but I know better."

"It would be unwise for you to keep records of such things at this time. I can show him later, or one of the others can. If nothing else, it will prove our capabilities, when fully trained, far exceed Odo's."

"We'd worked that out already, but it's one thing to notice from the outside, and another to see proof like this. You're even replicating things on a cellular level that—"

"Take care!"

Jabara sighed, looking down at her PADD, then up at the Changeling who was still posing as a highly-respected religious leader. In all the time they'd spoken, they had not dropped their guise.

"Are you sure you don't want me to let Commander Sisko in on all of this?" she asked, not for the first time.

Bromeliad shook their head.

"I don't doubt his ability to keep a secret," they explained in Bareil's deep, calm voice, "but he is a man of honour. He has looked the other way more than once when something Starfleet would disapprove of needed to be done. If he knew, he would have to act." They sighed. "I expect he will learn the truth eventually, but until then, I would prefer he remained ignorant."

Jabara nodded. Much as she disliked the position this placed her in, it made sense.

"All right, then," she muttered, returning her gaze to her PADD. "Time to get back to fabricating these test results, I suppose."

The accommodations Nerys had been given were surprisingly spacious. She'd expected something like the rooms on the Founder's ship—sparse furnishings, a simple bunk, plain walls, no carpets.

What she'd gotten instead could only be described as palatial, and she'd never have believed such lodgings could exist in the Dominion. The carpet was plush, the bed free-standing and huge, and the sitting-room furnished with comfortable couches that, although lower than the Bajoran equivalent, were wide and well-cushioned. The bathroom included a tub big enough for Sisko to have reclined in, as well as a standard sonic shower and other amenities, all softly lit, and with heating running through the floor below the tiles. There was even a Federation-style replicator in the dining-room, loaded with a wide selection of Bajoran meals—how they'd managed that was a mystery, though she suspected the patterns had been copied from those on the Bajoran ships the Founders had captured before their diplomatic efforts began.

Her surprise at the level of comfort provided was enough to distract her from her worries, At least for the time being. When Leyona joined her, they both discovered, to their delight, a selection of Bajoran music and literature was available for their entertainment.

"Founder Chamomile provided that database, I think," Leyona said. "My Founder wouldn't have had the time."

"I'm surprised Chamomile did," Nerys said, idly flipping through the novels stored on the console.

"He likely prepared it in advance," Leyona said with a shrug. "The Founders often do."

She was probably right. For once, Nerys was grateful for that tendency.

Her luxurious suite of rooms were not to be her last surprise of the day.

Towards evening, as she and Leyona were perusing the replicator menu, her combadge chirped, and a hesitant voice emerged from it.

"Bashir to Kira."

She pressed the badge reflexively.

"Doctor? How did you find us?"

"Chamomile sent me a message," Bashir responded. "He told me you were here. Did you know this system was on my list? Because I didn't until now." He seemed to pull himself up short. "We can talk about that later. Chamomile's made arrangements for me to join you—Didn't he let you know?"

"No," Nerys admitted. " No, he didn't."

Damn Founders, she thought, but refrained from saying aloud, given present company.

"I'll be down there as soon as I can," Bashir told her, and she properly registered how serious he'd sounded since he made contact. "I—I owe you more than an apology. I don't know how I can possibly make up for—"

"We can discuss it in person," Nerys said, her tone surprisingly gentle, even to herself. "But for what it's worth, I'm not angry with you. Not now, anyway."

"You'd have every right to be." The bitterness in his tone came as a shock. "I shouldn't have—"

"Later, Julian. Go through their security checks. I'll have your favourite tea waiting for you when you get here, and we can talk then."

There was a sigh from the combadge. "All right, Nerys. I'll see you then."

By the time Bashir arrived, Leyona had retreated to her own quarters, Nerys had finished her meal, and the first cup of tea she'd replicated for him had gone cold. But the pattern had been the last she'd used, and it was simple enough to order another.

He looked better than she had expected, based on their earlier conversation. He smiled as he entered, then whistled as he took in the sitting-room.

"They didn't crown you, by any chance?" he asked, half-teasing.

"Not that I'm aware of," she responded, managing to return his smile.

She led him into the dining-room, and they sat at the table with tea and replicated shortbread between them.

"Chamomile told me the details when I came down," Bashir said. "I guess I have less to be sorry for than I thought I did—he did everything that I would have, if I'd been there."

"Aside from bring Bareil to the Dominion."

"That wasn't his idea, was it?"

"Would you have suggested the drug he was going to use?"

Bashir hesitated.

"Reluctantly," he admitted. "It might have worked, if Bareil didn't have the pressure of those negotiations weighing on him. Stress is the last thing you need when recovering from any injury or illness."

I don't think even Julian could cure stubbornness...

"So Bromeliad was right to worry."

"I can't say for sure. But I did meet one of the medics looking after him now and she's very good."

"Better than you?"

"She's a Vorta on her sixth iteration. I should bloody hope so."

Nerys laughed, and the dam in her broke. The laughter became slightly hysterical, and then switched to crying, and Bashir came around the table to wrap his skinny arms around her and pat her awkwardly on the back and murmur reassurances she couldn't properly process and would be unable to recall later. She didn't really care how inept some of his attempts were—he was her friend, and he was a familiar face in this unfamiliar place, and she needed that right now.

"What news?"

The medic, Kadin, bowed her head.

"The first treatment failed, Founder. He is stable, but no better."

"Did you learn from this?"

"Yes. We ruled out several alternatives we know won't work."

"Then you are doing well. Continue."

"Yes, Founder."

The negotiations were wrapping up and had gone very well despite the events leading up to them. Ben's heart was lighter than it had been in days, and he was about to declare the meeting closed, when Bareil placed the cherry on top of the ice-cream sundae.

"You've been most accommodating, Legate Turrel," he said. "Your answer won't endanger the treaty, but I owe it to my people to ask, at least once, especially given the outcome of our dealings."

"By all means," Turrel said, though he frowned slightly.

"Your government has, in the past, denied being in possession of our missing Orbs. I have no intention of implying the contrary. However, if one or more of these historical artifacts has been found since our last request was made, it would be appreciated if they were returned to Bajor at your earliest convenience."

Turrel's frown deepened, but he nodded.

"I shall raise the matter when next I speak with our leaders."

"That is all I ask," Bareil said.

"I make no promises," Turrel continued, "but given what has been achieved here, if we know the location of any such artifacts, your patience may be rewarded."

As they all rose to leave, Ben glanced over at Kai Winn in time to see her scowling ferociously at Bareil's back. The moment she noticed him looking, her expression cleared.

"Would you care for some more shortbread, Eminence?" he asked her, keeping his tone light.

"No, thank you, Emissary," she replied stiffly. "I have no appetite at present, though I appreciate the offer. I believe I shall retire to my quarters for now."

"Suit yourself." Ben turned away from her, heading for the door. He had a celebration to plan, but Winn's behaviour troubled him.

Why would she look at Bareil like that?

He doubted she would give him a straight answer if he asked her outright. He tried to put it out of his mind—whatever it was, he had nothing to do with it, and should leave well enough alone.

The room was softly-lit, and surprisingly large, given there was only one bed in it. That bed was in the centre, likely so the medics could access it from all sides, but right now, the only people present were the patient himself, Nerys, and the soft-spoken Vorta who had introduced herself as Kadin-6.

"Is he still sedated, then?" Nerys asked softly, glancing down at Bareil's sleeping face.

"The Founder you call Chamomile told us to ensure he didn't wake unless his condition was improving, or we were ordered otherwise. He is unaware of his surroundings." Kadin sounded apologetic.

"That doesn't matter," Nerys told her. She glanced around the room. She couldn't immediately see any surveillance devices, but given this was the Dominion, she was certain they were there. "How long can I stay?" she asked.

"The Founder said you could remain here until the next treatment was scheduled to begin. That's in one hour and thirty-seven minutes, by your measure."

That was longer than she had expected, and Nerys silently thanked the Prophets for Chamomile's rare show of generosity as she settled herself in the chair by the bed.

"I'm not sure I'll be here that long," she admitted, "but I'm grateful, all the same."

Kadin smiled, and began to retreat.

"There's a communication panel on the wall behind you, if you need our assistance," she told Nerys. "The bed will alert us if his condition changes suddenly."

Then she was gone, and the door had closed behind her, leaving them alone.

Nerys laid a hand over one of Bareil's, where it rested on top of the covers. She hadn't been able to touch him while he was in stasis, and drew some small comfort from the warmth of his skin.

"Hi," she murmured, not caring that he could not hear her. "I've missed you. I know that's ridiculous, it's not as if we see each other that often—but I feel your absence right now. I understand why they're keeping you asleep, but I still wish I could hear your voice. Just a few words, enough to know you were really okay." She sighed. "I guess I'll have to wait." She squeezed his hand gently. His eyelids did not flicker; his breathing remained deep and even. She lifted her hand away and sat back in the chair. "Doctor Bashir's here. They probably didn't tell you. He came yesterday. Apparently this was one of the star systems on his list—he's on a guided tour of the parts of this place he's allowed to see right now." She smiled despite herself at the memory of Bashir's eager face. "The last planet he visited was disappointing for him, so I think he's glad this trip wasn't a complete waste." She sobered. "He apologised for not being there when you arrived. He said he'd plan these missions better in future."

She was quiet for a long moment, just looking at him. She was briefly tempted to try shaking him awake, just to assure herself he would wake up, but knew that wasn't going to work, and might set off the equipment that was monitoring him.

"I wish I could contact the station from here," she said at last. "I want to know what's going on back there." She glanced around the room again, and lowered her voice. "I really hope Bromeliad's done right by you. If they haven't—Well. Prophets willing, they won't have to find out what I'd do."

"Two of them?"

"Yes, Commander. They were apparently found in the basement of a disused science facility—How they came to be there is a mystery. They should arrive the day after tomorrow."

"That's excellent news!" Ben could barely contain his delight. "Do you know which ones they are?"

"Unfortunately not. They were found in a secure vault, which led my superiors to believe opening them would be inadvisable. They seemed almost relieved to be rid of them. I imagine Kai Winn will be able to shed light on the reasons for such care when she has the opportunity to examine them."

Ben nodded, sobering.

"I expect she will."

Turrel rose from his seat.

"I regret that I cannot stay longer," he said, and actually sounded as though he meant it. "If your celebration had not been delayed for Major Kira's sake, I might have been able to tarry one more day."

"I understand completely," Ben told him, rising in his turn and coming around the desk. "The call of duty waits for no-one."

"Indeed." Turrel gave him an approving look.

"Shall I send a package to Cardassia for you?" Ben asked. I'm sure there will be leftovers, and Quark has a surplus of kanar."

"That won't be necessary, Commander, though the offer is appreciated."

"Suit yourself." Ben moved back a pace. "Have a safe journey."

"I expect I shall, all things considered.""

He left, and Ben returned to his seat behind the desk, idly turning the baseball over in his hands. Not for the first time that day, his thoughts drifted to Major Kira. She'd been gone for days now. He wasn't too worried about her, though it was strange that she should be gone this long. The last time she and Doctor Bashir had been delayed like this, they'd come back with a report on the Mirror Universe. The odds of that happening again were extremely low, but the Gamma Quadrant had its own perils, and most were unknown to them.

Nerys slept late. Her worries had kept her up for hours, hoping someone would contact her to give an update on Bareil's condition. When she had fallen asleep at last, her dreams had been troubled, and twice, she had woken from nightmares in which Bareil was dead, or dying.

She was eventually roused by an insistent beeping from the communication panel beside her bed. It took her most of a minute to rub the sleep from her eyes, shake her head to clear at least some of the fog from her brain, and reach up to answer it.

"Yes?" she rasped.

"You sound awful." It was Bashir, sounding very awake, but concerned.

"I just woke up. What's happening?"

"Chamomile has called a meeting. He was going to com you himself, but I said I'd take care of it."

"How long do I have to get ready?" Nerys asked, abruptly alert.

"An hour. You'll have long enough to freshen up."

"Any news?" She was already sliding out of bed, knowing from prior experience that the com panel would catch her voice no matter where she was in the room.

Bashir was silent for several seconds.

"He's alive, and stable. But there were some complications last night. They had to abort the second treatment in order to save his liver."

Nerys swore sharply in Bajoran, an expletive Federation translators would have censored, but which the one here allowed her to voice unaltered.

"He is stable," Bashir insisted. "I scanned him myself—he's no worse now than he was when he arrived."

"I don't care! I thought the Dominion was better at things like this!"

"I imagine that's what the meeting will be about. Get dressed, and have something to eat. The guide will come for you in about fifty minutes."

She sighed.

"Okay. But they'd better have a solution or Prophets help me."

The conference chamber was small, the carpet as fine and green as moss, the walls hung with beautifully woven drapes depicting natural scenery. Nerys wondered if they had been made by Kurillian artisans.

Chamomile was solemn as ever, Kemath as stern. Leyona, sitting next to Nerys, looked as if she had not had an easy night's sleep either.

"Doctor Bashir has already told you what occurred last night," the Founder began. "This possibility was anticipated, and planned for."

"You realise that only makes it worse, right?" Nerys interrupted. "You knew what you were doing could endanger his life, and—"

"And it was still necessary, to gain the knowledge that would be required for the third procedure I had planned."

"How?" she demanded. "How was risking his life supposed to help you?"

"The Founders' will is not to be questioned," Kemath snapped, before she was quelled by a glance from Chamomile.

"Your loyalty is acknowledged, but I do not require a demonstration of it today," he told her, the barest hint of steel in his tone.

Kemath dropped her gaze to the table, and said nothing further.

"To answer your question, Major Kira, we required as much knowledge as we could gain on Vedek Bareil's condition, more than we could attain by simply scanning him. His body needed to be tested, in order to determine what the weaknesses would impact." He held up a hand before Nerys could voice another protest. "Let me finish, Major. The knowledge we gained from this has been sent to another part of this facility, and as we speak, Vorta technicians are at work programming a small amount of medical-grade nanites to repair the specific damage he has suffered. They will be injected into his body once they are ready, and remain long enough to complete their task before terminating themselves. If our tests were sufficient, he will make a full recovery."

"Medical-grade nanites?" Bashir had leaned forward, his expression difficult to read. There was surprise there, and unease, and his gaze was intent. "Is this a common procedure in the Dominion?"

"Not common, but certainly reliable. We perfected the technology centuries ago." Chamomile seemed oddly reluctant, as if he knew what Bashir was driving at.

And in a flash of recollection, Nerys knew as well.

"Opaka," she whispered. Then she leveled a glare at Chamomile. "You're the reason Kai Opaka was trapped on that moon?"

"Kira, don't—" Leyona began, plaintively.

She rounded on her. "Did you know this?"

"I—" Tears had sprung to the Vorta's eyes as she shrank away from Nerys' fury.

"Save your anger for those responsible," Chamomile said sharply. "Leyona knew as little of this as you before today. Let her alone."

Nerys turned back to him, willing herself to calm and only partially succeeding. "If you trap him here," she began.

"That was not part of our plan, whatever you may believe, but should this method fail—unlikely as that may be, or you prevent us from employing it, there is but one alternative that may save Bareil's life, and I suspect you would like it far less."

His words were like a bucket of ice-water, dousing her rage in an instant and replacing it with a creeping dread.

"What are you talking about?" she asked softly.

Chamomile gestured at Kemath.

"Take Leyona outside."

"Yes, Founder." Kemath rose and came around to Leyona's chair. "Come."

Leyona looked reluctant, but stood and followed her out of the room.

Only once the door had closed behind them did Chamomile speak again.

"Understand that this is, and was always intended to be, a last resort. It may not be necessary, should you allow the medics to proceed with the nanite treatment. However, Bromeliad requested it specifically, to ensure their friend's survival by any means necessary." He held up a hand to fend off another angry retort from Nerys, then continued. "When many Changelings combine their efforts to achieve a common goal, we can accomplish a great deal. It is possible, given a sufficient number of willing participants, for a solid to be added to our ranks. This has been done only a handful of times since the Dominion was founded, and is never undertaken lightly. All parties must consent, or it cannot be achieved in the first place."

"You—Are you saying you want to turn Bareil into a Changeling?" No wonder he had sent the Vorta out. She could only imagine the effect such a concept would have had on them—it had inspired several conflicting feelings within her.

"I am saying the possibility is under consideration. I have spoken with certain family members on this topic, and they are willing, for the sake of our absent sibling. But it may ultimately be unnecessary."

"You can't," Nerys said diffidently. However she might feel on the matter, on this she was adamant. "If you do this, he wouldn't be Bajoran anymore—He'd never be the same again."

"The decision would be his to make. We would awaken him in order to obtain his consent, and respect his choice, whatever it proved to be."

His calm was infuriating, and Nerys wanted to rage against it, to tell him she knew exactly what he was doing and she wouldn't stand for it.

But her nightmares were too recent, and as much as she disliked the nanite idea, it was infinitely preferable to Bareil losing part of his identity, especially if the treatment would have worked and it was her stubbornness that cost him.

"Fine." She let her head drop into her hands. "You win, Chamomile. I hope your nanites don't have any special features."

"They will not. I would not betray Bromeliad's trust in such a manner. Surely you can believe that of me, if nothing else."

She did. Of all the things they had learned about the Founders since their alliance began, their loyalty to one another was one fact that could never be in doubt. It had been a significant factor in Odo's plan being implemented, after all.

"Can I see him before you start?" she asked quietly.

"Of course." Chamomile's tone was surprisingly gentle. "You have done nothing to deserve being barred from his bedside."

With that, she supposed, she would have to be content.

 "I had a strange conversation with Kai Winn this morning," Nesro Vidari said pleasantly as she settled herself opposite Tranquility at their table in the replimat.

"Indeed?" They suspected they knew where this was leading, but weren't about to preempt her.

"She seems to think you might have been replaced by a Changeling," Nesro said in a tone that implied the very notion was patently ridiculous. "She asked if I had seen you eating or drinking. I told her I had, multiple times. She asked if you'd behaved at all strangely, and I told her I hadn't noticed anything unusual." She leaned in a little closer. "I hope you won't be offended by my saying so, but I think she's jealous of what you've achieved."

That Tranquility hadn't anticipated from her. They affected a sigh.

"That may be true, though I wouldn't have expected her to resort to such absurd accusations to claim the credit." They frowned slightly at her then. "That being said, we shouldn't speak ill of her. She is the Prophets' Chosen."

Now it was Nesro's turn to sigh.

"I know. It is difficult to reconcile one's own desires with the will of the Prophets sometimes."

"It is often through such inner conflicts that we learn wisdom," Tranquility said, voicing a belief Bareil had expressed in their presence multiple times.

They sat in solemn silence for a moment, Tranquility making a show of eating their evening meal. They had elected to do so in the replimat to dispel the rumour Winn was attempting to spread, after all.

"You know," Nesro said at last, her tone lighter, "if you were a Changeling—and I don't believe you are—I wouldn't tell Kai Winn anyway."

Tranquility smiled.

"I'm sure the hypothetical Changeling would appreciate that, if that were the case," they said. "But enough about Winn's suspicions. How has life been treating you lately, Vidari?"

She beamed at them, and began regaling them with station gossip, half of which they already knew, but which she hadn't had occasion to tell Bareil since his arrival, owing to him being in the infirmary and then absorbed in negotiations. This, too, would alleviate the doubts of those observing them, though Tranquility did not believe Winn would be so easily dissuaded.

Kira had been asleep for hours by the time it became clear to Julian that Bareil was, in fact, improving at an increasingly rapid rate. He had promised to alert her if anything went wrong, but nothing had. He would let her sleep, for now. She deserved to wake to good news after today.

He was in a cavern, one he did not recognise. It was not a beautiful place, but it was peaceful. He was unsure why he was here.

"There you are, Antos." The voice, warm and maternal and familiar, made him whirl to face the speaker. She looked just as he remembered her, albeit with much mended and patched clothing.

"Opaka," he whispered.

"Sulan," she corrected. "We are equals here."

"Where are we?"

"I am where I have been for the past two years. You are sleeping in a medical ward in the place your friend sent you in order to save your life."

He stared at her.

"This is a dream?"

"For you, yes. For me—Let us say the Prophets have allowed me to look in on certain people, from time to time. There is more to it, but only so much I can tell you right now."

"The Prophets can reach you here?"

"The Prophets sent me here, Antos. They have never left me."

Everything she said seemed to raise more questions, but there was one more pressing than all the others.

"Why am I here now?"

Opaka smiled.

"The Prophets have a message for you, and I am their instrument in this quadrant."

"What message?" he asked, trying not to seem too eager. "What would they have of me?"

"They wished me to tell you that you chose well," she said. "You did right by yourself, and in so doing, you have strengthened more than one alliance, and Bajor will prosper."

"Then Bromeliad—" He didn't know how to finish the question.

"The one you call Bromeliad has served the Prophets, in their own way. I can tell you no more than that—you'll have to find the answers you crave on your own time."

The cavern was beginning to fade, and Opaka with it.

"Wait!" Antos reached for her, and felt her hand clasp his briefly.

"We will see each other again, dear one, of that you may be sure. But you must go now. You have been sorely missed."

She released his hand, and then she and the cavern were gone, and there was only blackness, the sense of motion, and very distantly, someone singing.

Leyona had not wished to disturb Kira any more than Doctor Bashir, but Bareil was being brought out of his medical coma, and she hadn't wanted him to find himself surrounded by unfamiliar faces upon waking. She had settled herself in the chair Kira used for her visits, while the medics monitored his progress remotely—their physical presence would not be required until he woke.

The silence of the room was unnerving to her. Bareil's breathing was soft and even, the machinery that monitored him so quiet even Vorta hearing could barely detect the noises it made.

It wasn't long before Leyona started humming, in part to set herself at ease, but also because it was becoming habit for her to sing whenever the fancy took her, usually when she had no pressing duties to attend to, but sometimes even while she was taking care of certain tasks that didn't require as much concentration.

The humming began with simple scales, then a few favourite melodies, blending one into another. She was soon caught up in the music, as if it were an irresistible current, and she began to sing in earnest, almost forgetting where she was as her confidence grew and her voice soared toward the ceiling.

She finished a favourite hymn she had learned, paused to consider what she might sing next.

The silence was broken by a sleepy murmur.

"And to think, you once told me you couldn't sing."

"Antos!" Leyona spun in the chair to face the bed, and found her friend smiling up at her. "I'm so glad you're awake! I wasn't sure how long it would be before—but I was so worried—We all were, even though the Founder said you'd be all right—Founders! I must tell Kira!"

Bareil laughed, a warm, rich sound that made her heart sing to hear it—she had wondered what the poets meant by that, but she could understand it now.

"I'm fine, Leyona, though I confess a little water wouldn't go astray."

"Of course," she said, springing to her feet. "I'll fetch you some."

The door opened before she reached it, and Kadin entered, carrying several small devices on a tray.

"I hope I'm not intruding," she said, "but since the patient has regained consciousness, I must run a few tests."

"By all means," Bareil said, apparently unsurprised. "I understand I've been out of action for some time."

"Several days, by Bajoran measure," Kadin confirmed, moving past Leyona, who had stood aside for her. "Our scans revealed no serious anomalies, but some things can only be tested with cooperation from the subject. Could you sit up a little, please?"

Leyona left Kadin to her examination, and went to fetch the water she had promised.

Antos was honestly surprised by how good he felt. Aside from his mouth being a little dry, he seemed to have suffered few ill effects from whatever had been done to him while he was unconscious. The medic's tests were simple enough, and she seemed very pleased by the results. His eyes reacted normally to light, he could move easily enough, and most importantly, he felt no weakness or shortness of breath. He was hungry, though—he privately decided he would forego his customary midday fast for at least the next few days. The thought of eating raised another concern, however.

"Is it safe for me to have solid food?" he asked.

The medic, who had introduced herself as Kadin, nodded.

"It may be wise to begin with small portions, to be sure, but you should have no trouble. We ensured your metabolism was well supplied while you were in our care, among other things."

Leyona returned with the water, and a relieved-looking Doctor Bashir.

"It's good to see you up, Vedek," the doctor said as he approached.

"And it is good to see you at all. How goes the search?"

"Not as well as I'd like, but visiting this place made up for the disappointment I had early on." He sobered. "I've already apologised to Kira, but—"

"There's no need, Doctor," Antos assured before he could finish. "You had your own task to attend to, and it is a noble one. None could fault you for pursuing it." He took a sip of water, which had a faint mineral taste but was cool and refreshing. "Now, tell me a little more about this facility while our friend finishes her examination."

Twenty minutes later, Kadin pronounced him fit to leave. Leyona had slipped away while Bashir was prattling on about everything he'd seen, and returned just as Antos was completing a final lap of the room. His reflexes were tested almost immediately as Nerys all but flung herself at him. He staggered a little, but given her enthusiasm, that would have happened regardless. She clung to him so fiercely he gasped, then the first ragged sob tore from her, and he returned her embrace, murmuring comforting words into her hair as she wept.

It would be some time before anyone could compel her to let go of him, and if he was honest, Antos wouldn't have wanted them to.

 They went back to her suite, Bareil used her shower, and Nerys paced the living-room until he came out and dressed. Someone had brought suitable clothing here for him, as if Chamomile had known he would be sharing her suite. Now that she thought about it, that was probably part of why it was so lavish—because it was meant to honour Bareil. It made more sense than anything else.

He came out looking even better than he had in the recovery ward, his hair combed back and his face clean-shaven. Upon his request, Nerys replicated enough food for at least four people, and they settled in for a hearty breakfast. She found she wasn't very hungry, however, and was still picking at her first plate while her partner was on his third helping.

"All right," he said at last, frowning at her across the table. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she denied. "I'm fine, Antos. I just—"

"Did you eat anything before Leyona brought you to me?" he asked, indicating her barely-touched meal.

"... No," she admitted.

"And you've barely spoken to me since we came back here. Are you concerned for my health? Doctor Bashir would be the first to tell you that isn't necessary—he scanned me three times. There weren't any anomalies he could detect. I'm fine. What's troubling you?"

She sighed. He'd have it out of her one way or another.

"Did anyone tell you about your treatment plan?"

"Kadin informed me the first two attempts failed, but the third was successful. I didn't press anyone for details."

"Would you mind if I elaborated?"

"Not if it's relevant to what you want to talk about."

She told him everything—about the failed treatments, the meeting with Chamomile, what she had learned about the nanites that had saved and imprisoned Opaka. He listened gravely, until she finally reached the part about what Bromeliad had asked the Founders to do, if nothing else could save him, and her response.

"I see," he said at last.

"Do you?"

He smiled. "You may not have noticed, but I'm a rather perceptive person."

She felt her cheeks flame. "I didn't mean—"

"It's all right." He reached across the table to take her hand. "You find this concept intriguing, don't you?"

She stared at him.

"I don't—How did you—?"

"If your concern was for me alone, it wouldn't still be weighing on you. I don't doubt that you were concerned for me, but once you agreed to the nanite treatment, that worry should have been alleviated. And yet, here you are, fretting worse than Leyona when she's about to do something Bromeliad might disapprove of."

He was far too good at this. It was one of the things she loved about him, but it still irritated her sometimes.

"Okay, fine. I'm interested. I'm not the trusted one, though, and even if I was—" She trailed off.

"You're worried that you would somehow be less Bajoran if you took the plunge, as it were." He squeezed her hand gently. "Were you less Bajoran when those Cardassians surgically altered you a few months ago?"

"I—That was different. They just changed my appearance. I was still me under the fake scales and ridges."

He smiled again. "And do you think, if it had been necessary for me to become a Changeling to survive, I would not have still been myself within that matrix?"

"I—I know I wouldn't care, but others might see you differently."

"Which would impact how I saw myself."

"...Maybe? I'm not sure. It didn't happen, and it shouldn't matter."

"If it had been necessary, if Chamomile had awoken me and told me this procedure would have been my best chance at survival, I would have agreed to it."

She stared at him again, unable to find words to respond.

"I would have accepted my fate," he continued, gently, "because it was the path the Prophets had set before me, and because it presented an opportunity to understand my friend a little better. Besides, if Bromeliad trusted me enough to even consider that offer, it would have been an insult to them to reject it. As to my sense of self, I don't believe the Prophets are particularly invested in our physical bodies. They aren't corporeal beings themselves—they are light and energy, pagh in its purest form. And it is our pagh that matters to them, not the corporeal vessel that contains it."

"I—hadn't thought of it that way before," Nerys admitted.

"Does it help?"

"A little," she conceded, "but I'm still conflicted."

"As you should be—it's not a decision to be taken lightly. I confess I'm grateful I don't have to rush into it myself."

"But you would consider it."

He nodded. "I meant what I said earlier. I'd very much like to understand Bromeliad better than I do now. They know me well enough to impersonate me under scrutiny. I know comparatively little about them." His expression turned thoughtful. "How close to Omarion do you suppose we are?"

"I'm—not sure. I don't think we're that far away, but asking Chamomile that question might not go down well."

"I'll talk to Leyona later. She might tell me, if I explain my reasoning."

"Which is?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," he responded firmly. He released her hand, took a sip of tea, and grimaced. "I'm going to replace this. Shall I take your plate?"

"No, I'll do it." She stood up. "I'll order something lighter—I think my appetite's coming back a bit."

He smiled. "Good." His eyes gained a glint that sent a thrill through her. "That bed looks awfully inviting."

"You've been asleep for days." Her protest was weak.

"You know full well sleep is the farthest thing from my mind at present," Bareil responded, his tone sending another delicious thrill through her.

It was fortunate they didn't have any pressing matters to attend to.

Elsewhere in the complex, Temperance set all the surveillance devices in Kira and Bareil's quarters to standby, save those that detected unauthorised entry via door or transporter. He did not need to know what the couple would be doing for the next several hours, and neither did any of the Vorta here. He would see to it they were not disturbed.

 The two arks sat on separate tables, facing one another. The side-chamber in the temple was not especially large, but there was enough space for Adami, the Emissary, and the Changeling imposter to stand at least a metre apart. The Emissary had insisted on bringing a security team with them, but Adami had convinced those officers, all three of whom were Bajoran, to wait outside. Whatever came of the plan she had devised as soon as she identified one of the returned Orbs as that of Truth, the Emissary would have to act as he saw fit.

"I gather from your lack of caution that you don't believe either of these casings to contain a false Orb," the Changeling stated, calm as ever. Adami had to give them credit, they had Bareil's mannerisms down to a science.

"I have. The Prophets have been gracious indeed. Come closer, Bareil—you should recognise the symbols here."

The Changeling drew a little nearer, though they seemed wary. As their gaze locked onto the ark, they stiffened. Their eyes flickered, as though they were contending with some inner conflict.

"Watch closely, Emissary," Adami said, unable to disguise her triumph. "You are about to witness the power of the Orb of Truth."

And before the Changeling could do more than take a step back from the table, she opened the ark with a flourish.

A pulse of energy struck Tranquility, radiating through their matrix and destabilising their form. They were barely aware of splashing to the floor, however, for their senses were overwhelmed by a vision the likes of which they had never experienced.

Images flashed across their mind, vivid as any shared in a Link, conveying a great deal in a few short moments—Bareil, in the infirmary, taking the drug Temperance would have given him had they not intervened; Bareil collapsing once, twice, during negotiations that had gone so smoothly under their care; the replacement of first several vital organs, then a significant portion of his brain; their friend, his face devoid of emotion, beside a stricken Kira; their friend, motionless on an infirmary bed, clearly on the brink of death, while Kira wept at his side.

The last terrible scene faded, leaving them suspended in white light. Around them, they heard a gentle rippling, as of the Great Link at rest.

"The Tranquil has averted disaster," an alien presence stated through a memory of Command.

"You are Bareil's Prophets," Tranquility said, marveling. They had thought it impossible for the inhabitants of the Wormhole to reach their people.

"The Tranquil is astute," another presence stated, using a memory of Temperance.

"The Tranquil will answer when the Sisko asks for truth," the one using Command's image told them.

"That may be difficult," Tranquility observed drily. "I am currently a liquid."

"The Tranquil cannot hide their nature," the one using Temperance's voice declared. "Truth is in effect."

"Truth takes many forms," the one resembling Command added. "Go now. We shall speak again."

And then they were back in the chamber, a puddle quivering on the floor where they had been standing mere moments earlier.

"Ha!" Winn exclaimed above them, unable to disguise her glee. "Behold, the deceiver."

"Who are you?" Commander Sisko asked,, shock clear in his tone, and his expression as he stared down at them.

The Tranquil will answer when the Sisko asks for truth. Truth takes many forms ...

Tranquility concentrated, and a part of their matrix responded, shifting into the head and shoulders of their customary humanoid form.

"Congratulations, Winn," they said, glancing over at her. "You have unmasked me." They turned their gaze full on Sisko. "Deceiver I may be, but I have betrayed no-one in so doing."

Ben had heard the rumour, of course. Dax had told him what Winn was claiming, for all that she had confided in only a handful of people. He had understood her reaction to Bareil's triumph then, though he had not believed her suspicions had any basis in reality.

Now, looking down at Bromeliad's face, he was forced to concede he had been wrong. However, given the ark was still open ...

"Does the Orb of Truth prevent lying?" he asked Winn.

She nodded.

"All deception is disrupted so long as it is active."

And they just said they weren't a traitor. So what am I missing here?

Ben looked down at Bromeliad again.

"You replaced Vedek Bareil. Why?"

"If I had not volunteered to take his place while he received treatment elsewhere, he would have died," they responded, their tone adamant. How they knew this, Ben could only guess.

"Where is Bareil now?"

"In the Gamma Quadrant, under my brother's protection."

That lined up neatly with the message he had received earlier that morning.

"Chamomile sent word that he, and you, would accompany Major Kira and Doctor Bashir on their return journey," he said. "I had been meaning to tell you, before Winn insisted we both come here. Does that message hold any significance to you?"

Bromeliad's face melted briefly before they visibly rallied their strength.

"If my brother has sent word, then Bareil's treatment was successful. He will return with them."

"So, to be clear, you took your friend's place to save his life. There was no ulterior motive?"

"None. In all things, I acted as I believed Bareil would have."

Ben returned his gaze to Winn, who looked as if she had been soundly slapped, several times.

"Close the ark. We've learned enough."

"But Emissary—"

"None of what we've heard leaves this room. Exposing them to the station at large will serve no purpose, and only cause more problems if word gets back to Cardassia. Close it."

She did not slam the ark shut, but resisting the urge to do so seemed to take a concerted effort.

As soon as the influence of the Orb of Truth left the room, Bromeliad collapsed back into their liquid state, before reforming into Bareil's likeness and rising, somewhat unsteadily.

"Will you be all right?" Ben asked. "Were you in pain?"

"No," Bromeliad admitted, once more in Bareil's voice. "It was draining to resist, but not painful."

"Will you be able to manage until Chamomile returns?" Ben asked, concerned. "I can cover for you if you need to regenerate."

"Thank you, Commander, but I'll be all right. My reserves aren't totally depleted."

"Good." Ben turned to address Winn. "You may not have been wrong about their nature, but their motivation was about as benevolent as it is possible for a Founder to be. They have done no harm to Bajor, or Bareil's reputation, and I am sure you don't want to do either of those things yourself. I hope I've made my point clear."

Winn did not speak, but she did visibly compose herself before turning toward the door.

Bromeliad made as if to follow, but Ben held up a hand to stop them.

"One more thing, Ambassador." They inclined their head respectfully in his direction. "Next time one of you wants to do a good deed, I would appreciate a little warning. I may be able to help prevent another incident like this in future, if I  know what's going on."

They chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind, Commander."

The doors opened, and they exited the chamber to find the security team in the midst of a heated argument in hushed voices.

"What got into you?" one demanded.

"I don't know! I couldn't stop myself!"

"You have feelings for my brother?"

"... Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Is something the matter, gentlemen?" Ben asked, and all three spun toward him with guilty looks on their faces.

"Nothing, Sir," they said in hasty unison.

"In case there was a problem involving unwilling confessions," Ben informed them, "it may reassure you to know we've just confirmed the Orbs are genuine, and one of them is the Orb of Truth."

"Oh," they responded in clear relief.

"No wonder the Cardassians didn't want it, if it does things like that," the one who had confessed feelings for his colleague's brother declared. "I'd bet latinum one of them opened it and exposed several scandals."

"And half of those nearby probably killed each other," one of the others said.

Ben did not add to the speculation, but the young men had enough enthusiasm between them to provide an entertaining distraction as they made their way out of the temple.

The discussion with Leyona led to another with Chamomile, who upon forwarding Antos' request to his family, delivered their answer. This led to yet another conversation with Leyona, and a choice was made.

The following morning, a package arrived, and was placed in Leyona's care. The visitor's then thanked the staff for their hospitality, and the medical team for their excellent work, before taking their leave.

The return journey was mercifully uneventful. Antos split most of his time between Leyona and Nerys, though he also took time to himself, to look out a viewport at the unfamiliar stars speeding past, and think of his dreams, and the friend awaiting him on Deep Space 9. He wondered, not for the first time since Opaka's visitation, what the Prophets had in store for him now. He was not quite sure he was brave enough to ask.

Out of necessity, Nerys and Bashir flew their respective runabouts through the wormhole ahead of the Founder's ship. No sooner had they emerged on the Alpha Quadrant side than the Mekong was hailed.

Nerys answered, an apology ready on her tongue. She never got the chance to say it.

"Welcome back, Major," Commander Sisko said warmly. "You've missed some excitement."

"What happened?" she asked, her stomach dropping.

His smile broadened. "The negotiations were successful, and Bajor now has two more Orbs than when you left. Nesro called in a few favours and we've received a shipment of Orb-themed Bajoran confections for the celebration I had planned."

For a moment, Nerys couldn't speak. She only stared at Sisko with her mouth hanging open.

"You might want to find a free pad, Kira," Dax said, leaning into view. "Your escort's coming through. And we need to catch up before the party—Benjamin and I learned something rather interesting in the last few days."

Oh Prophets, they know. There was no question of this being about anything else. She hoped she wasn't about to get a telling-off—being scolded by Sisko was never pleasant.

"Right. Of course. See you then!"

She cut the transmission and focused on ensuring the runabout was safely docked.

"Leyona to Bareil."

Tranquility had been waiting for this, and answered promptly.

"Welcome back, little one," they responded, glad indeed that Bareil showing affection to this particular Vorta was unremarkable.

Opposite them, Nesro leaned in.

"Hello!" she called brightly.

"Oh!" Leyona sounded slightly flustered. "I didn't know you had company. I am sorry to have interrupted you."

"There's no need to apologise, Leyona," Tranquility assured her. "I'm glad you and Bromeliad returned safely."

"So am I." There was a slight hesitation before she continued—likely she was stealing herself to lie convincingly. "My Founder wants to see you, to offer congratulations. We heard what you achieved from Commander Sisko, but they want to see you in person."

"Of course. I'll be there in a few minutes." They disconnected the com and turned to Nesro. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Vidari."

Nesro smiled.

"It doesn't matter. We'll both be at the party later—remember, eighteen-hundred sharp!"

She sprang to her feet and made for the exit of the replimat.

Tranquility followed at a more sedate pace, focusing on appearing untroubled. They could not show their relief in public.

One turbolift ride later, they emerged into their family's section of the Habitat Ring. It took a concerted effort to keep from sprinting the length of the corridor, or shifting into a winged form to cross the remaining distance even faster. Only in their private quarters could they safely drop their guise.

They reached the correct door, pressed the chime, and waited until it had raised high enough for them to enter without having to duck. Leyona was standing a few paces beyond the threshold, and held a stiff, formal pose until the door had shut behind them, at which point she abandoned any sense of decorum and flung herself at Tranquility, wrapping her arms and tail around them as they let their form relax into their customary humanoid appearance.

"I missed you, Founder!" she half-sobbed, her face pressed into their shoulder. "I missed you so much it hurt!"

Tranquility was too overcome with emotion to chide her, or say anything at all. They simply enfolded her in their own embrace, letting her cling to them for several long moments.

She loosened her grip at last, and they did the same.

"Commander Sisko left us a message," she said. "Of course it would take another God's power to unravel your disguise."

"He told you that, did he?"

"Yes. The message was encrypted, sent to your console through one of the Dominion channels. He was very careful."

"That isn't what I was concerned about."

"If you were worried as to my reaction, I was quite impressed, actually."

Bareil entered the sitting-room of Tranquility's quarters, smoothing down his robe. He beamed at them when their simulated gaze settled on him.

"I expect you'll have to bring me up to speed with what I should or shouldn't know," he said. "But first, Leyona and I brought you a gift."

"Indeed?" They had not expected this.

He nodded, and beckoned toward the dining-room, from which he'd just come.

They followed him, Leyona trailing after them.

This room was rarely used for its intended purpose, but the table remained, being convenient for guests and as a gathering place when their family visited. On this occasion, however, it was being used to display something.

Resting on the tabletop, enclosed within a dome-shaped stasis unit, was a small, faintly luminescent plant. It was young, not yet flowering, but they knew this particular floral species in all its seasons, and they approached it slowly, reaching for it with a hand that trembled slightly despite their best efforts.

"Meldronata," they whispered.

"Do you like it?" Leyona asked quietly. "I helped choose it—Antos knew you were homesick, and you gave up a chance to visit the Divine Ocean for his sake, and he wanted to bring back something from Omarion so you wouldn't be so sad, and I told him you liked meldronata—Founder, are you all right?" She cast them a startled glance as their form wavered, then averted her eyes.

"Do not worry for me, Leyona," they assured. "I—I will be all right, but it may be best if you leave us for the time being. You have caused me no distress, and we shall speak more later, when I have—collected myself."

Leyona nodded.

"Of course, Founder. I'll be in my room if you  need me."

She darted for the exit, and Tranquility waited for her bedchamber door to close before turning their gaze full on Bareil.

"Antos, have you any idea what you have done?"

Antos had not expected this question, and a knot of dread formed in his chest.

"Have I offended you?" he asked. "If I have, I am truly—"

They held up a hand to stop him, and smiled, even as their form rippled once again.

"You have done no wrong," they said, their voice gentle. "As usual, you have been kindness itself."

"Then why are you—wavering? Is this an after-effect of the Orb of Truth?"

"No," they told him, a gentle smile forming as they seemed to regain their composure. "What you are seeing is quite natural for my people. It is how powerful emotion tends to manifest. We train ourselves to control our emotional responses while we are around solids, but when we encounter something we were not prepared for—" Their form rippled again, but they rallied quickly. "You are aware my people have difficulty trusting solids. I have come to trust you a great deal. My brother was more wary of you, but trusted my judgement in this matter. Still, bringing you to the heart of our territory was a test, in its way. You had only to do no harm in order to pass it, but you went beyond that requirement—You brought me a gift, one carefully chosen to give me pleasure. You showed consideration my people have found incredibly rare."

Again they rippled, and Antos began to understand.

"Is this—Bromeliad, are you crying?"

"In a sense." They visibly pulled themself together, met his eyes with their own. "I was right to trust you, Bareil Antos. You are a jewel among solids. It is a true privilege to know you."

Antos felt tears welling. He wanted to hug them, but their form was collapsing in upon itself even as he watched, and a moment after they had made that last declaration, they splashed to the floor, reverting completely to their base form.

He did not cry—not yet, anyway. Instead, he drew up a chair from the table, and sat, watching them, waiting.

It was a little over a minute before Bromeliad shifted back into their humanoid form, and drew up a chair themself, turning it to face him.

"There is something I must tell you," they said quietly. "I considered keeping it to myself, but that would have been a grave error on my part."

"What is it?" he asked, uncertainty warring with curiosity inside him.

"Commander Sisko does not know all that transpired when the Orb of Truth was activated."

They told him of their experience, their form rippling again at certain points.

By the time they had finished, Antos could not hold back his tears. It had truly been that close.

You did right by yourself, Opaka had told him. She had known this. He was sure of that now.

The party began at eighteen-hundred, and lasted well into the night. There was no break in the revelry, no medical emergency. There was music and dancing, and more food than all present could have eaten over several days.

And if Kai Winn was somewhat sulky, and didn't participate in the festivities more than necessary, nobody gave it much thought.

"It's weird," a somewhat tipsy Dax told Nerys during a break in the dancing. "There's a whole platter of shortbread—Benjamin made it specially. I thought she liked it."

It took a moment for Nerys to remember what she was referring to, but when she did, she laughed.

"Oh, right. You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"It's extremely impolite to credit the Prophets when you're complimenting something a person did," Nerys explained. "Winn wasn't being unusually nice to Sisko about his baking—she was telling him only the Prophets could have helped him make something so good."

Dax blinked slowly.

"Maybe we shouldn't let him know until after she leaves," she said. "We don't need to add any more fuel to that fire."

Nerys nodded.

"Probably for the best."

Later that night, she went to the temple, where the newly returned Orbs remained, under guard. The security officers let her past without questioning her, and she entered the small chamber where, the previous day, Winn had exposed Bromeliad and been subsequently cowed by Sisko. She wished she'd been there to see the look on her face.

But that wasn't why she had come here. She didn't know how long the Orbs were going to be on the station—Winn wanted to leave as soon as possible, and would be taking them back with her.

The ark containing the Orb of Truth was now clearly marked as such. The other apparently held the Orb of Destiny, but Nerys wasn't interested in that right now.

She prayed for guidance, and reached out to the first ark, opening it with a hand that shook slightly.

A beam of light shot from the activated Orb of Truth to strike its sister, and the ark containing the Orb of Destiny sprang open of itself.

Nerys was abruptly standing somewhere she had never been, and yet immediately recognised. Whether the knowledge had been imparted to her, or she had simply remembered descriptions and put the pieces together very quickly, she could not later be certain, but she knew this place. The shimmering violet sky, the rippling, golden ocean.

"The Great Link," she whispered.

"Your destiny," said a familiar voice behind her.

She spun to face the older woman, her mouth falling open.

"Opaka?" she breathed.

"Kira," Opaka responded.

"Are you real?" Nerys asked before she could stop herself.

Opaka laughed.

"As real as anyone in such a vision can be. The Prophets felt it would be easier on you if they spoke through me, rather than directly."

"Then—Does this mean I can—That I should—" She couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

Opaka smiled.

"You know the answer already, child."

She did. She had known the moment she recognised the Great Link.

"It won't make me less Bajoran?" she asked.

Opaka's smile broadened.

"No power in this universe could make you less Bajoran, Nerys. You have nothing to lose, and a great deal to gain. And the Prophets will be with you, each step you take down this path."

As suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended, both arks closing at once.

Nerys found herself on her knees, clutching the table holding the Orbs with both hands.

She remained there for several long moments, catching her breath and allowing the knowledge she had gained to sink in.

She had her answer, from the Prophets, at least. The Founders were another matter entirely, but if she had divine support, it would be all right.

She hoped.