Notes from the author:

The story takes place during the 6th season between the episodes "Inquisition" and "In the pale moonlight". While the odds for the Federation to put a quick end to the war against the Dominion are more than low, the crew of the Defiant gets assigned to a secret mission within the Alpha Quadrant to rescue the crew of a Vulcan research vessel out of Dominion territory. At the same time, Julian is slowly starting to realize that something is utterly wrong with him...

Category:

Contains some darker topics, so please be warned! However, no slash, sexual content or strong language^^ The story is very canon-oriented!

Disclaimer: Neither DS9 nor its characters belong to me. They're all Paramount's.

– The Darkness Within – Part I –
"What if the truth is not what it seems...?"

"A lie is a way to tell the truth to someone who doesn't know."
- Rule of acquisition No 152

- Prolog -

Darkness.

The black veil enshrouding him with its icy touch seemed to originate from emptiness itself - impenetrable, merciless, cold.

He could feel his own breath fading into the endlessness around, could feel the cold seeping through his very skin, making him shiver with anxiety. The only thing that existed in this moment was that vastness, without beginning or end - and he within.

Cautiously putting out his hand, he wasn't sure if he really moved or if it was just pure imagination. His hand reached through the void without any sound, meeting no resistance. He felt the panic rise within him. No matter how hard he tried to clamp down on the flutter of panic, he just couldn't manage to stay calm. Then he turned - just to stare into the same blackness as before. His breath quickened, as did his heartbeat with every elapsing second.

Helplessness.

His world turned upside down, his whole body seemed to become so hovering and light, but still he felt a heavy weight upon his chest, a leaden burden that slowly but surely began to squeeze him to death. He cried out. Someone had to hear him. Someone had to be out there…

Only seconds after his sudden cry had faded into the depths of the darkness, he felt the grip around his chest tighten. With blackness closing in on him and a desperate fear washing over him, he began to struggle to free himself. Had he had enough strength, he'd have cried out yet again – but there was just no breath left. Thinking only of suffocating, he spasmodically gasped for air, kicking out with every bit of energy left.

Then he began to fall.

Suddenly and without forewarning, he was sucked down deeper and deeper into the clutches of the impenetrable abyss beneath. His stomach turned as he fell abruptly and full of panic into the depths.

- Chapter 1 -

Julian Bashir woke with a start, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, the adrenaline flooding his body enough to bring him back to full consciousness within only a few seconds. Panting, he glanced around and half expected to stare again into the impenetrable and threatening darkness from only moments before. Reaching hastily for the mattress to prop himself, he almost fell out of bed.

"Computer, lights," his unsteady voice broke the silence.

It took only a split second for the murky twilight to be replaced by dazzling, artificial daylight, making Julian instinctively squint at the sudden brightness. With a soft groan he let himself drop back onto the hard Cardassian mattress, and ran both hands over his sweaty face. His breath came still shallow and fast, his mind struggling to convince itself that this was reality. Had it just been a nightmare? He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such an intense dream. When he thought back to the oppressing darkness his world had been drowned in until only seconds ago, he still felt the paralyzing panic in every single fiber of his shivering body. It just wasn't like him to have dreams like this, and having such intense dreams was even less like him.

Inhaling deeply, he sighed. He couldn't blame himself. They were at war after all. A war no longer discerning between the good and evil he had once grown up to believe in. Not a day passed without casualties, without reminding them of how senseless all the fighting was. He wondered if things would ever be the way they once had been, though he knew that time irrevocably changed people's hearts – and his comrades and friends were no exception.

It was the war with the Dominion which was now determining their very lives, and by recalling this simple fact, Julian realized that the nightmare of only a few minutes ago was nothing more than one of the many by-products issued by the all the last months' fighting. Just another way for him to deal with all the fear and bitterness his mind wasn't able to cope with during the long hours of wakefulness.

"Computer, what time is it?"

No sooner had he drawn himself up completely, than he shoved the blanket aside, tiredly blinking several times and rubbing his sleepy eyes. He still felt groggy and light-headed, as if the last days and events had left him actually more drained than he was ready to admit.

"The time is 0500," the never faltering voice of the station's computer answered politely.

0500 hours? He had slept longer than he had thought, even though it didn't feel like that. But if he was true to himself, even the few hours of sleep every night were all but enough to restore his power to its full potential. Despite his genetic enhancements, he still was only human - a fact that he liked very often to forget.

Ever since the truth about his genetic enhancements had been revealed, Julian Bashir had unconsciously tried to keep a certain distance toward the incident almost a quarter of a century ago. Although he now was able to openly use abilities he'd been so long forced to hide from everybody else, he was still hesitating, silently wishing for the events to come undone. Secretly longing for his old life, he had thought that even if other people knew about his real nature, he could just carry on like before. But his more than naive illusion had been ultimately dashed by Sloan's arrival on the station.

Taking a deep, long breath, Julian tried to slowly regain control over his thumping heart.

God, he hadn't even been seven years old, how could anyone hold him responsible for something he'd never had any influence on? It hadn't been his decision, after all. It had been his parents'. And Richard Bashir had gone to prison for it.

How might his father be at this very same moment? Julian had promised to give him a visit in the low-security penalty colony in New Zealand, and this time he had actually intended to keep his promise. Even though accepting his parents' decision after all those years was still a challenging step, he had to acknowledge that they'd done it because of their love for him. Despite all the dismay and anger he'd felt when he'd been told that Dr. Zimmerman and Chief O'Brien had overheard his parents' delicate conversation with the "other Julian", despite all the anger he had felt toward those who had once decided about his very own life and left him no chance of ever proving himself afterward, he had to realize that it had been his parents' love that had made him the man he was today. A brilliant and passionate doctor.

Perhaps this was one of the reasons why Julian had decided to give Amsha and Richard a second chance after all those years of tense relationship. Richard had gone to prison for his son and had finally taken responsibility for Julian's illegal genetic enhancements. But still... for Julian it somehow felt like having betrayed his parents. He knew it was just his own way of seeing things and that they wouldn't blame him for what had happened. That no matter what had happened or may come, his parents would always welcome him home. However, the realization brought no relief.

In his profound hurt he had used the very anger toward his parents to protect himself. Not able to bear the curious looks of others, the accusation of having cheated in life, his friends' obvious disappointment when they'd finally realized that he wasn't the person they'd thought him to be all these years, Julian had retreated into a cocoon of anger. Directing all his pent-up feelings against those who had brought him into the miserable position of leading a life based on lies, he had desperately tried to keep his world from shattering.

But all of a sudden he'd been deprived of his protection. His own father had taken all the guilt upon himself, thus giving his son the chance of continuing his career in Starfleet. It was the last thing Julian would have expected, but from one moment to the other he was standing there – utterly unprotected and defenseless in front of his own captain and his own parents. Perhaps this special moment in the captain's office had been the worst in his whole life. He had been deprived of his shielding anger and all that was left behind was nothing more than the young Julian Bashir whose over-zeal had hidden his genetically enhanced status so well for all the past several years. A child feeling deeply hurt and protesting against life's unfairness - blindly hurting those who tried to protect him.

He didn't like thinking back on that incident, on the moment when he had left Sisko's office and felt his friends' questioning gazes on his back, following him until he reached the turbolift. He wasn't sure if they had wanted to comfort him. If they had wanted to tell him that, no matter what had happened, he still was their friend and that they still liked him for who he was. But he just hadn't been able to endure them. He couldn't remember how long he'd been finding himself avoiding his own friends until he'd finally felt strong enough to face the truth.

Julian had forgiven his parents. He had even tried to rebuild the relationship with his father, promising to give him a visit back on Earth. However, the prospect of not being able to keep his promise made him feel a stab of guilt. The incident lay back more than a year now, and with the Dominion War in the Alpha Quadrant he wouldn't get the chance to travel back to Earth very soon. No one could tell how long the war was still going to determine their lives...

Groaning softly, he ran one hand across his stinging eyes. Was this the reason why he hadn't slept very well during the last weeks? Because he was afraid of what his dreams were pulling up from his subconscious into his mind? He didn't know. Leaving out the nightmare just a few minutes ago, he couldn't recall the last time he'd actually dreamed.

Julian pushed the thought away, trying to concentrate his still sleepy mind on things that lay ahead, awaiting him on yet another miserable dawn at the front. He could dimly recall Captain Sisko announcing some important news he was going to share with them first thing in the morning. However, as Sisko hadn't been willing to elaborate at that point, Julian knew practically nothing about the nature of this morning's meeting.

Feeling his heartbeat slowly come back to normal, Julian wished to just fall back into bed and forget the entire world around him. With a last sigh, though, he stood up and started dressing. After just a few moments he had changed the blue pajamas in favor of the black, blue-trimmed Starfleet uniform, put on his boots and straightened the blanket. It was not until he found himself in front of the small mirror in the bathroom that he finally realized that his thoughts had been wandering back to the nightmare. He still hadn't found any reasonable answer to the unnaturally strong feeling of fear he'd felt back then.

Julian held his face under the cold stream of water, remembering how he used to wash away his nightmares during the last year at the academy the same way every morning. It was the same kind of feeling like back in those days – only that today there would be no exams waiting for him. As he finally looked up and contemplated his wet face in the mirror, he felt better. A slight smile fell upon his lips; then he reached for the towel and gently rubbed his face. No matter how swift and comfortable sonic showers might be, in situations like this he still preferred natural, real water.

When he left his quarters and entered the deserted corridor, he hesitated, not quite sure what to do this early in the morning. The corridor was empty, the lights slightly dimmed in a futile effort to bring the familiar rhythm of day and night into space. He thought about going to Quark's and having breakfast but then almost immediately discarded the idea. He wasn't really hungry at the moment, and would rather not show up on Quark's doorsteps as the first guest this morning...

Sighing, he stretched both arms behind his back, gently flexing his tired and stiff muscles. Suppressing another yawn, he finally stepped onto the turbolift.

"Promenade."

That only left him his work, and there was enough of it to keep his mind occupied during the rest of the day.

Captain Sisko stood in front of the wardroom, hands clasped calmly behind his back, when Commander Dax and Commander Worf - the last two senior staff officers - finally entered the room. Realizing that the group was now complete, Sisko nodded toward the newcomers, his features stern and concentrated. Dax returned the subtle nod before she took her place next to Major Kira, hoping that the news the captain was going to share with them wouldn't justify the ill-boding look on Benjamin's face. When Worf had also taken seat next to his wife, the captain finally cleared his throat, taking a step nearer to the table in the middle of the room.

"Thank you all for coming," he began in a formal and rather grave tone. "As you might know, there is some important news I'd like to share with the rest of you." Squaring his shoulders, he continued: "Two days ago, new Starfleet orders came in, saying that the Defiant is assigned for a new mission within the Alpha Quadrant. The upcoming mission will lead her to Atholes III, fifth planet of the Zenahrian solar system."

"But..." Kira hesitated a short moment, frowning. "...wasn't the Zenahrian solar system taken over by the Cardassians some months ago?"

Sisko nodded. "That's right, Major. Atholes III as well as the system's remaining eight planets have been under Cardassian control for the last three months. That's one reason for Starfleet to assign the Defiant to this special mission. Just one month ago, a Vulcan research vessel called T'Hekal was very close to the system..."

"According to the official Starfleet records the ship has been reported destroyed," Odo interrupted sceptically, folding both arms in front of his chest. His face was an unreadable mask as always.

"By the Cardassians?" Bashir put in.

Sisko nodded again. "According to the reports, T'Hekal had an unexpected encounter with a Cardassian war ship shortly before her destruction. It is surmised that the encounter was followed by a fight whereupon the ship was completely destroyed, though the strange thing about the whole affair is that neither any debris nor any increased intensity of residual energy signatures could be found anywhere."

"Which implies that either the ship wasn't actually destroyed or that the Cardassians eliminated every kind of evidence after the incident," Worf concluded grimly.

Knitting her brow, Kira cast a confused look at Sisko. "But T'Hekal was a Vulcan research vessel, apparently of no danger to any Cardassian war ship. Why would the Cardassians bother to eliminate all evidence if we're at war right now, adding the fact that T'Hekal had apparently intruded into enemy territory?"

"I'd say the important question is: What was T'Hekal's business there anyway, Major?" Chief O'Brien raised one brow. "To the best of my recollection, the Zenahrian system is directly adjacent to the Betahrian system which had been occupied by the Cardassian Alliance only a couple of weeks before, and if the occupation of Zenahr had been even three months prior to the incident, it had to be a restricted area for any kind of research mission." O'Brien shook his head in confusion. "If T'Hekal had been there on her own risk, she had to reckon on an incident."

The trace of an aware smile played around the edges of Sisko's lips. "Good point, Mr. O'Brien. Nevertheless, we're facing a problem now. Even if T'Hekal was officially reported destroyed, Starfleet Intelligence filed a report last week saying that her crew has most likely survived."

"So the ship was not destroyed?" Dax asked in astonishment.

"So it would seem, Old Man, at least according to the informal reports."

Snorting scornfully, Odo shook his head. "Let me guess: Starfleet is sending us to investigate and rescue T'Hekal's missing crew?"

Not responding to Odo's sarcasm, the Captain drew a long breath, then turned without another word and quickly activated the black screen in the front section of the room. All at once the smooth black surface blinked to life. Tiny, white spots appeared scattered across the face of the screen, followed by some yellow grid lines for position determination and the place names of different solar systems.

"This is a star chart of the Zenahrian system and the adjacent systems Betah and Hiar." Sisko ran his index finger over the lower midsection of the chart, continuing his course to the far right corner on the top of it before returning to the left midsection of the chart. A brief moment later, another slightly bigger red point appeared on the black background, approximately midway between the suns of both the Betahrian and the Zenahrian system, though it was situated considerably closer to Zenahr.

Sisko pointed at the new variable. "This is T'Hekal's position at the time of her ostensible destruction and this…," he said, waiting for another green point to pop up before he put his finger on it, "…is Atholes III."

"T'Hekal was definitely in enemy territory," Worf stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What were the Vulcans doing in a territory that is hardly worth the risk of losing a whole ship over?" Kira shook her head incredulously.

"According to the reports, they were leading a mission exploring rarely seen chroniton clusters," Sisko offered without comment, though Kira got the underlying message and held back from any further remark. "No matter what T'Hekal was doing there, the only fact that matters for us right now is that there are most likely survivors of the incident. Due to the nearness to Atholes III, Starfleet presumes to find the survivors there. It's the only class M planet nearby and therefore the only lair for the damaged vessel."

"What makes you so sure that the survivors weren't transferred elsewhere, Captain?" Odo edged in thoughtfully.

Sisko shrugged with a sigh. "This Starfleet wouldn't say, but after all I've heard from Admiral Ross, Starfleet is placing their full trust in us. In other words: we can't rule out that this mission is only officially classified a rescue attempt. Nevertheless we're going to fulfill our assignment to the best we can."

"Excuse me, Sir, but hadn't Atholes III once been a Starfleet colony?" O'Brien asked with slight hesitation, casting a swift look toward the others while he was trying to dredge up some further details from his memory to fortify his presumption. He could dimly recall having once heard something about the planet now under Cardassian control.

"That's right, Chief." Striding back to the conference table, Sisko smoothed his uniform in an almost automatic movement. "Atholes III was made the habitable class M planet we know today by a special terraforming program more than forty years ago. The first colony was founded almost a year later and had been prospering ever since."

"What happened then?" Bashir was not sure if he really wanted to know, but for as long as he could remember he had never again heard anything about a colony on Atholes III. "The Cardassians?" he ventured.

"To the best of my recollection, it wasn't the Cardassians who caused the colony's fall." Obviously searching through her own memories, which was considerably easier for her because she could refer to the experiences and memories of seven lifetimes, Dax gave a slight frown.

"One of my previous hosts once met a former colonist. I'm not quite sure but I think Starfleet had to abandon the colony after only two decades. The adjacent systems of Betah and Hiar had been in a rather weak peace treaty. When the war between the two systems and its residuals, the Lennarean and Morani, was threatening the colony some years later, Starfleet was forced to give up the colonization program."

"But I thought the Lennarean and Morani were living in peace now," Bashir retorted in confusion.

"That's right, Julian. The war didn't end until after some twenty years had passed. A considerably long time, but in the end, both races agreed to negotiate another peace treaty, whereupon the Zenahrian system was declared neutral territory to both the Lennarean and Morani. Starfleet was therefore no longer able to pursue their former colony plans without infringing on the interests of both peoples. Atholes III was subsequently canceled for any future colonization programs." Dax was looking at Sisko to confirm her words and, receiving a short nod from the captain, she folded both hands and leaned back.

Kira was also addressing Sisko, though her features were more tense. "There's still another reason for Starfleet to send us for the rescue mission, isn't there?"

Turning toward his assembled senior staff, Sisko hesitated a short moment, then continued: "According to their reports, Starfleet Intelligence has made another – rather startling – discovery: The main reason for Starfleet to send the Defiant to Atholes III is that one has discovered yet another Dominion weapons factory and cloning facility."

A stifling silence filled the room as the captain's words seeped in. Cloning facilities, breeding Jem'Hadar soldiers on the stage of war without the long detour from the depths of the Gamma Quadrant. Even though it was common knowledge that facilities like this had already been existing for quite some time within the Cardassian territory – at latest after the destruction of the Dominion's task force in the wormhole – the news came as a violent blow in the desperate struggle against the Gamma Quadrant's galactic order.

"And they want us to destroy it." Kira's voice was cold and quiet as she finally broke the icy silence.

Managing a nod, Sisko ran one hand over his beard. "Our official assignment says that we have to take out the newly commissioned facility and rescue T'Hekal's survivors on Atholes III."

"Well, what could be easier than that?" Odo snorted, leaning forward and propping himself on his elbows, obviously waiting for Sisko to elaborate on how the Defiant was expected to work the miracle necessary to weaken the enemy behind their own lines. Bashir and O'Brien also seemed to be rather sceptical about Sisko's words, for it was one thing to combat the enemy in the vastness of space, but an entirely other thing to take out a most likely well guarded enemy facility with only a limited number of foot troops. To say nothing of getting anywhere near the planet without being detected by the Cardassians in the first place.

"Getting to the Zenahrian system should be the least of our problems, Constable. A short time before T'Hekal disappeared without a trace, Starfleet Headquarters received an encoded subspace message. After its decryption, they found out that it contained the exact phase frequency of the defense station orbiting Atholes III, as well as some important information about the configuration of the phase modulation drive of the Cardassian war ship."

O'Brien's eyes all at once widened with realization. "That means that – if we modulate the Defiant's field generators in order to make them correspond to the phase modulation drive of the Cardassian ship, setting the Defiant's propulsion shields to an eroding pattern…"

"…we'll make it with the cloaking device and the new modulation to Atholes III without anyone noticing," Sisko finished, smiling.

Only a second later, O'Brien's face lost some degree of its elation when he thought about the problems of such a reconfiguration. Without the right equipment, a recalibration like this was almost impossible and to get the necessary components which were required for the job, it was at least necessary to obtain a fully functioning enemy ship. "There's just one problem, Sir…"

Not willing to let the chief elaborate any further, Sisko continued in a firm voice. "I'm aware of the problems of such a reconfiguration, as is Starfleet. The phase modulation coils you'll need will arrive at the station this very evening, together with Captain Robert Evans who's been assigned to our mission by Starfleet as well."

"Evans, Sir? You're not talking about the Robert Evans from the Telarian Wars?" O'Brien incredulously asked, casting a swift look around. When no one seemed to share his excitement, thought, he knew he was due for an explanation. Already musing upon how to start, the chief was surprised when suddenly Sisko cut in with a slight smile.

"Captain Robert Evans was one of Atholes III's former colonists before the colony's abandonment. With the Dominion's new facilities expected to be situated right next to the largest city on the northern continent, Evans has been assigned to this mission to serve as our guide. His war experience in the Telarian Wars as well as his familiarity with the surroundings we'll have to face make him the key element of our mission."

Snorting briefly, Worf faced the captain with a somber expression. "Even if Starfleet's intention is honorable, I don't think it'll work that easily. The Defiant is a strong ship but not so strong as to stand against a whole armada of Cardassian and Dominion ships. It would be nothing more than a suicide mission."

Inhaling deeply, Sisko raised his hand. Even though Worf's doubts were more than justified and even though he was sure that he would get the commander's full support even if he ordered so desperate a mission against all odds, there was an essential part he hadn't told his crewmen yet. Worf's fighting reputation was well known but Sisko didn't intend to submit his crew to any unnecessary danger. At first he'd protested vehemently against Starfleet's orders himself, had even addressed Admiral Ross to make him realize the absurdity of such a mission. Sisko didn't want to be the judge over life and death of his crew, not even when the situation of the war demanded it. But at that time back in his office, when he'd been face to face with the admiral, he hadn't known the full details of their mission, just as his officers didn't know now.

"Good point, Mr. Worf. Under normal circumstances such a mission would be fatal. But we have one decisive advantage: because of the relative seclusion of Atholes III, the Dominion has become only recently aware of its vantage point for a new cloning facility and weapon factory in the Alpha Quadrant. According to Starfleet Intelligence, the construction of the site started about only six weeks ago, which means that it's still a long way until it'll be finally completed. And because of the relative seclusion of the complex, the site's security is not as prioritized as one would expect."

Spreading his hands with a humorless smile, Sisko shook his head. "We're at war. Not only our side has to make do with available resources. At least now luck is on our side. According to the reports, Atholes III has a considerably strong starship defense system, orbiting the planet on a mobile station which opens fire on everything that doesn't correspond to its security protocol. It's exactly this kind of problem we're going to bypass with the Defiant's new phase modulation coils. After that we'll have to get down onto the surface. We'll send foot troops into the complex, we will override the security mechanism and destroy the whole facility."

O'Brien's face grew confused. "But how to get in there without anyone noticing?"

When the captain finally spoke, his voice remained stern. "That's exactly the reason for Captain Evans to accompany us on our mission. It'll be his job to get us safely in there."

"When's the departure?" Kira interjected.

"As soon as Chief O'Brien has completed the installation of the new components."

Meeting Sisko's questioning gaze, O'Brien just shrugged. "I guess the whole thing will take no more than three days – depending on the compatibility and quality of the coils," the Irishman hesitantly concluded.

"Very well. The Defiant will need two more days to get into the Zenahrian system, so there's still enough time to elaborate on the exact mission when Captain Evans arrives on the station." Sisko's hard and commanding tone grew gentle, when he nodded towards his crewmen and friends. "Until then, pursue your normal duties. Dismissed."

"Who's that Captain Evans anyway?"

Julian was holding the mug with both hands, swaying the green liquid gently to cool the beverage. Small, thin billows of steam snaked up from the cup, fading into the air as they cooled down to room temperature.

"You mean, you don't know Evans?" the chief retorted in an exaggeratedly dismayed voice, his grimace clearly indicating that Julian was obviously lacking of the most basic knowledge one was expected to have as a Starfleet officer.

Shrugging, Bashir didn't reply, convinced that lacking in this kind of knowledge wouldn't seriously hurt his career. He hadn't been the only one not to recognize the name. Having noticed the quizzical faces of his friends when Sisko had started to talk about Evans, Julian knew that the name hadn't been very familiar to them either.

Sighing heavily, Miles leaned forward and propped himself on folded arms on the small table of Quark's, casting a swift glance over his shoulder as if he was still waiting for the Ferengi to finally bring the Raktajino he had ordered almost a solid quarter of an hour earlier. The bar was more crowded than usual, thought the noise level was surprisingly low. Only every now and then the happy shouts of lucky dabo winners filled the air.

They had been able to snatch a table next to the exit, but the relative far distance from the bar's main attraction center meant obviously the same for Quark's service.

"Give it up, Miles," Julian grinned. "He forgot it."

Following Bashir's gaze to the back part of the casino where Quark was apparently relishing the company of two scantily dressed Bolian ladies, the Irishman let himself slump back in his chair, snorting under his breath as he seemed to think about whether or not it would be worth his time to complain to Quark about his lack of interest in his customers.

"Perhaps you'd better order another Raktajino." Meeting O'Brien's irritated look, Julian suddenly raised his hands in defense. "Well, just an idea."

"A very smart one, Julian," the chief grumbled absently.

Recognizing O'Brien's slowly rising irritation, Bashir took another sip of the green tea, before he finally put it down and leaned back as well. "So who's that Captain Evans? I've never heard of him but after all your talking he seems to be quite good," he tried to distract the chief.

Laughing out shortly, O'Brien faced Julian again, grimacing. "Quite good? Evans is one of the best. He's fought five years in the Telarian Wars. His career is so remarkable that many even consider him a Federation hero."

"That good, hmm?" Julian's voice carried a slight hint of disappointment. He couldn't complain about his own abilities. Ever since his genetic enhancements had been revealed, he had gotten used to the constant feeling of a certain superiority toward others – even if he didn't like to admit it. Hearing O'Brien now sounding so fascinated about Evans' accomplishments made him feel some small stab of jealousy. He pushed the thought away – though he was also looking forward to actually meeting the new captain. He knew that not too seldom a man's reputation was stronger than his deeds. Julian could very well remember the Bajoran war hero Li Nalas on whose side he had once fought when the terror organization of the Circle had threatened the station. It made him wonder how many people might have actually known the real Li Nalas before his death had finally and forever made him the person people had always believed him to be.

"I'm really looking forward to meeting him," O'Brien continued. "I don't think we'll have any big problems with Captain Evans, if he accompanies us on our mission. As far as I know, Evans is an excellent strategist who knows a great deal about what he's doing."

"Really sounds like a terrific man," Julian assured the chief, stifling a short yawn as he ran one hand over his strained eyes. He was still tired even though the day hadn't even halfway passed. There would be plenty of work waiting for him once he'd finished his lunch and returned to the Infirmary.

"You look tired, Julian. Slept badly?" the chief asked sympathetically, as if he exactly knew what had kept the young man from getting a full night's rest last night.

Bashir just shook his head. "No, actually just not enough."

He wasn't sure why he was lying, but for the time being he didn't feel like talking about last night's events which he'd rather like to ignore. It had just been a dream, after all. A dream that had vanished as quickly from reality as darkness had vanished from the light. Everyone had things to worry about – and he seriously doubted that the nightmare the night before had meant more than just the daily worry about the war and the Dominion.

"When is Captain Evans' ship scheduled to arrive?" Julian tried to change topics.

Shrugging, the chief shook his head. "I'm not sure, but the captain said something about this evening. I don't know the exact time but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. When I think about the installation of the new phase modulation coils into the Defiant, I'm still regretting that I haven't taken more time off during the last couple of days…"

Julian couldn't help wondering how many times in his life O'Brien had regretted his position as DS9's chief of operations. His daily life consisted of nothing more than repair work and every time he thought he'd finally fixed something up, there was another thing that broke the very instant the old work was finished. Installing the new phase modulation coils into the Defiant would most probably take another three days at least – provided that the chief worked efficiently and that there weren't any unexpected other problems to grapple with.

"What about a visit to the Holosuite after work?" Julian suggested with a short nod toward the second floor, flashing a conciliatory smile. "I'm sure we can still get some time in there."

"I'm sorry…," O'Brien shook his head, slowly drawing himself up, "…but I can't, Julian." He could see the young man's disappointment and smiled awkwardly. "I've got to check on the plasma vent before I can start with the Defiant's reconfiguration. Captain Sisko expects me to start with the installation of the coils as soon as they reach the station."

Nodding with understanding, Julian leaned forward, though he didn't manage to completely hide his disappointment. "That's alright, Miles. Besides, I've still got a lot of work to do. I guess it'll keep me occupied more than only one evening…," Bashir smiled encouragingly.

"Alright then, take care, Julian," O'Brien sighed briefly before he finally hurried out of Quark's.

Leaning back, Julian's face went blank as he stared absently in front of himself. Well, then it wouldn't be spy time this evening. But being true to himself, he hadn't even lied to the chief. There actually was quite a considerable backlog of work… Perhaps it was best not to waste more time than necessary.

"You okay, Doctor?"

The sudden nearness of the voice drew his attention all at once back to the bar. When he lifted his gaze, he met the round face of the Ferengi. Quark was holding a steaming cup of brown liquid and looking down at him in confusion.

When Bashir got up with a sigh and shoved the chair back toward the small table, he managed to avoid the bartender and said dryly: "You've just missed him, Quark," before he took O'Brien's cue and left the still half-crowded place, heading for the infirmary.

Quark simply shook his head, snorted under his breath and started for the bar to get rid of the now superfluous Raktajino.