I. The Crash Site

"…Put their lives in jeopardy over an extended period of time and those same, friendly, intelligent, wonderful people will become as nasty and as violent as the most bloodthirsty Klingon."
~ Quark, 'The Siege of AR-558' ~

The Cardassian novel was called 'The Compact', and Julian Bashir hated it.

He glared at the PADD from across the table. The mess hall was empty save for him and he was glad for the privacy, since he wasn't in the mood to answer questions. His face felt tight with nauseating outrage. When it came to Garak, this kind of frustration wasn't uncommon—but this was beyond petty lies and jabs at his pride. This was a deliberate attempt to fuel his nightmares.

Julian leaned forwards and ran his fingers through his hair. Nearly two months ago, life had been simple with the obvious exception of the threat of the Dominion. Nearly two months ago, he'd been unaware that he would spend weeks in a Dominion Interment Camp and then participate in a reconnaissance mission while he was still haunted by it. He'd thought that living on the fringes of the Federation's influence was an opportunity to escape his personal demons, not find new ones. How naive he'd been.

In a way, the reconnaissance mission was a suitable distraction. Of course, it wasn't a sentiment shared by his irate crew mates, exhausted from the week-long journey and frustrated that they were trapped in orbit around a planet. Julian could see the glittering blue and green planet beyond the windows, shimmering beneath the barrier. While the others disliked the delay, Julian was glad to put off the uncomfortable conversation he was going to have with Garak when they returned to Deep Space Nine and, in fact, any location that reminded him that his life had been violated by an imposter.

The Defiant remained one of the few places that the changeling hadn't contaminated, a place where Julian didn't have to be reminded that it had usurped his life for four weeks. When he got back to the station, he would have to contend with minor inconveniences others didn't notice, but which gnawed at him. Things like Kukalaka being carelessly thrown into the closet and the medical bay arranged just so he had difficulty finding things. His closest friends failed to understand the extent of the intrusion, and Garak's insensitivity was foremost among them.

Garak had suggested that the Defiant's reconnaissance mission was the perfect time for Julian to read yet another Cardassian novel. It was a practice the Changeling hadn't partaken in, an enormous hole in an otherwise flawless performance of Julian Bashir. Julian was content with the suggestion and they'd traded books. Garak had given Julian 'The Compact', and Julian had provided Garak with the work of 20th century human poet named Kahlil Gibran. When they returned, they would discuss their readings, but now Julian was too consumed with rage to have a decent conversation on the matter.

Julian's quiet contemplation was broken when Miles O'Brien made his entrance. He scanned the mess hall and flung himself into the seat opposite of him. Miles, a brash man with penetrating eyes, didn't waste any time in complaining.

"If I spend one more day on this ship, I'm gonna start clawing at the walls," Miles snapped.

"You're already doing that," Julian pointed out.

"How? How could the Captain let himself get talked into this?"

"Well, there is that thing about Starfleet exploring new places."

"And for what?! To satisfy Dax's curiosity!"

"God forbid we discover something new and fascinating."

Miles snorted and raked Julian with a look of contempt. "You're taking her side!"

"I'm not in a hurry to get back," said Julian.

"Easy for you to say, you…you bachelor!"

"What little pride I have left has been shattered," Julian drawled sarcastically. "Come on, it's not like we're going to be here forever...At least you're eager to get home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Miles asked.

"...Let's just say that Garak has poor taste."

"I've been telling you that for five years! What'd he do this time?"

Julian sighed. "He lent me a novel and—"

Miles groaned.

"I'm not going to outline the whole plot for you, Miles! All I'm saying is that I think the subject matter is a bit inappropriate, all things considered."

"What is it? Cardassian porn?"

Miles roared with haughty laughter. When Julian didn't laugh back, he leaned forwards to try to read the PADD.

"It…isn't Cardassian porn, is it?" Miles asked.

Julian slapped Miles's outstretched hand. "No, it isn't."

"Oh."

"...Are you disappointed?"

"What? No!"

"If this was Cardassian porn, would you be interested in reading it? Because I actually have—"

"Absolutely not! Just—if it's not porn, what's in the book that's got you all wound up?"

"It's the setting. It takes places in a prisoner of war camp."

The statement didn't have the reaction Julian was fishing for. Instead of slamming his fist on the table and expressing his outrage, Miles looked at him with an immutable, glazed expression he got whenever Julian tried to talk about literature.

Julian massaged his tense forehead. "You know…because up until two weeks ago I was in a Dominion Interment Camp?"

Finally, realization flickered in Miles's eyes. His mouth formed a perfect circle and he let out a huff.

"Typical!" Miles remarked. "That Cardassian does like his underhanded tricks, doesn't he?"

"I think he may be sending me a message, but I can't for the life of me figure it out," Julian admitted. "I mean...his own father died in that camp, yet he refuses to talk about it."

"Again, typical."

"I don't think him giving me this book is coincidence."

"Garak makes you paranoid. You should just ignore him."

Julian chuckled. "If only it was that simple."

"It is, trust me. I ignore him all the time and I'm no worse for wear."

Julian was about to rebuff him when Miles's comm badge went off.

"Dax to O'Brien," Jadzia's voice said.

Miles tapped his badge. "O'Brien here."

"We're ready to initiate the flight plan. Report to the bridge."

"On my way," Miles agreed. He turned back to Julian. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

Julian left the PADD on the table and accompanied Miles to the bridge, having nothing better to do in sick bay. They didn't encounter anyone save for their exhausted crew mates, all of whom looked to be in better spirits. The planet that had held the Defiant hostage for two days would soon be behind them.

Julian couldn't attest to having spent much time on Starships, but he always found the Defiant's bridge cramped and uncomfortable. It was grey, drab, and frustratingly small as he tried to find a place where he could get a good view without being in the way of the staff. He settled on standing behind the command chair, where Benjamin Sisko perched and looked like he hadn't had his coffee that morning.

Miles moved to his station. The rest of the senior staff had already assembled, with the obvious exception of the Changeling stored in sick bay. Jadzia Dax was laughing at a joke Julian had arrived too late to hear. Worf, imposing and stern, was determinedly not looking in her direction. Kira Nerys was donned in red and stood in stark contrast to her environment.

"So, Miles, do you forgive me?" Dax teased as she noticed his arrival.

"For getting us stuck here for two days?" Miles jested. Though he'd been complaining only minutes before, his tone was now light and jovial. "Tell you what, buy me a drink when we get back to the station and we'll call it even."

"Sounds fair."

"Might want to reconsider, Dax," Kira cautioned. "If you buy Miles a drink, then the whole crew will start asking for one!"

"I can handle it," Jadzia beamed. "Quark owes me after that last game."

"He'll try to worm his way out of it!"

Jadzia smiled mischievously, her teeth exposed, and her eyes gleaming. "No he won't."

"He will try," Worf argued.

"Oh, were you listening? I can never be sure with you, Worf, sometimes I mistake you for a statue."

"I hate to break up the conversation, but are we ready to get underway?" Sisko asked.

"Our flight plan is locked in, Captain," Jadzia answered.

"Good. Take us home, Dax."

"Engaging auto-pilot," Jadzia reported.

"We're breaking orbit," said Worf.

"Coming around to four two mark seven."

The Defiant swung about, turning away from the planet's surface and aiming for the stars. The faint glimmer of the barrier was invisible from this side, but Julian felt its presence.

Kira's shoulders tensed. She leaned forwards to examine her monitor closely. Julian caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to watch her.

"That's odd," said Kira. "I'm detecting a temporal anomaly—dead head!"

Jadzia's fingers danced across the helm. "I'll try to—"

Too late.

A flash of white engulfed Julian's vision and his feet swept up beneath him, sending him to the floor. There were several cries of surprise and pain as bodies were thrown across the bridge, though he was only vaguely aware of their presence. For a second, he floated, completely unaware and out of control. Then, his sensed slammed back into him.

Red alarms blared in Julian's ears as he staggered back to his feet. The entire Defiant shook with uncontrollable force, as if a giant hand had reached up and swatted it from the sky. Julian grabbed onto the nearest console for support. Members of the bridge crew made valiant attempts to return to their stations.

"Report!" Sisko shouted.

"We hit the anomaly!" Dax yelled, crawling back into her seat. "Helm controls aren't responding!"

Julian's attention locked on the view screen. The surface of the planet grew larger, until the stars were no longer visible. The blue rim of the atmosphere glinted on the horizon.

"That planet seems to be getting uncomfortably close!" Julian noted.

"We're losing altitude!" Dax confirmed. "We're entering the planet's outer atmosphere! Hull temperature rising!"

The Defiant forcefully veered to the side. Julian slammed against the wall and held the nearest console to stabilize himself. Sisko crawled out of the command chair and to the helm, where he leaned over Jadzia. Her fingers, so delicate and light, moved across the console like she was playing a piano. It didn't seem to make a difference.

"Dax, can you find a spot to put her down?!" Sisko yelled.

After a minute, she reported, "I'm detecting a plateau on the southern peninsula!"

Explosions ejected from several consoles at once. Screaming. Kira was thrown backwards and hit the floor. He attempted to crawl over to her, but the force of the ship pinned him to the spot.

"Do it!" Sisko ordered.

"Sir, if we put the ship down, there's no guarantee we'll get her back up again!" Miles protested.

"We'll worry about that later!" Sisko barked. He looked over his shoulder to look directly at Julian, and his eyes were aflame. "Might want to take a seat, Doctor."

Julian rook the nearest vacant seat and held the console in a death grip, certain that it wouldn't do any good. The surface of the planet grew closer. What were indiscernible expanses of green grew into forests. Lumps on the surface turned into mountains. It was the longest few minutes of his life, longer than the countless near-death experiences he'd experienced on Deep Space Nine. Julian wrenched his attention away from the view screen and instead focused on his hands, holding the console in a death grip. He tried to read the monitor. The lights blurred in a collage of colours, indiscernible for one another.

Subtle vertigo gave him the impression that he was floating, when he was actually sitting perfectly still. Or, as still as he was capable of sitting on a falling ship. His head spun.

He chanced a look at Miles. It was as if Julian could see their future just by looking at him, because Miles jerked his head in what he thought might be a nod. Perhaps he was confirming his worst fears. Julian struggled to breathe, struggled to think of something to do.

"Engaging lateral thrusters!" said Dax.

"All hands, brace for impact!" Sisko shouted into the comm.

The Defiant jerked. He could feel a thump that reverberated throughout the entire haul. Then there was another. Against his better judgment, Julian looked at the view screen.

They were gliding over a forest. He couldn't hear the sound of the warp core anymore, just silence. Even with the alarms sounding over him, he felt as though he had gone deaf for that minute as they drew closer and closer to the ground. Then, a mound emerging in front of them, a mound he knew they wouldn't clear.

The screaming of the ship striking earth.

The heat of uncontrolled flame.

The chair disappearing from beneath him.

Then nothing.

When he first regained consciousness, Julian wasn't aware that he was hurt. There was no pain. Only a sensation of disembodiment. His senses slammed back into his body and he screamed. His breath came in painful chokes, suffocating him. Unable to move, he embraced the darkness and slipped away.

When he woke up for the second time, his thought processes were in disarray. In the partial darkness, Julian groped to see if his body was in one piece. An incredible weight across his chest pinned him down, but he couldn't be sure if it was from an injury or an object. Right now, the only thought that consumed him was the instinct to escape, to flee from the flickers of fire in his peripheral vision.

His vision shuttered into life. He was no longer on the bridge. If it was the bridge, it was twisted beyond recognition. Debris littered the area. He could see red light and what he thought might be fire. Every limb ached as if he'd been hit by a phaser at point-blank range. Julian realized that a metal beam rested across his chest, immobilizing him.

There was no way he could get out of this on his own.

Julian listened for any signs of life, but the only thing he heard was the vague sound of creaking bulkheads. If anyone else had survived the collision, he had a sinking feeling that rescue was a long way off.

He tried to shove the beam off, but couldn't lift it an inch before he droppedit again. His hands trembled uncontrollably as scenarios shot through his head like a thousand lights going off at once.

Fortunately, he didn't get far into worst case scenarios when he detected movement nearby.

"Hello?" Julian said, his voice echoing. "Is someone there?"

The noises stopped, and for a minute he entertained the possibility that he'd imagined it.

"I'm here!" Julian called. "Can you help? I'm trapped!"

He heard something nearby and realized that it was a door being forced open. A beam from a flashlight passed over the debris before settling on his face. The owner of the flashlight shimmed inside and began shifting pieces of fallen metal to better access him.

Julian had been anticipating a crew member. He'd been expecting Worf or perhaps Miles. Instead, his rescuer was the last person he anticipated, because there was no fathomable way that he could be among them, that he could have been on the ship when it crashed.

"...Garak?" Julian gawked.

Garak. A Cardassian who had introduced more mystery into his life than he ever thought possible. Middle-aged, his skin grey, and his eyes even and glinting with mischief. Normally, he was an impeccable sight, well-groomed and well-dressed, but right now he looked shaken and a bit bruised. His voice, however, maintained its same unremitting calm.

Garak paused when Julian said his name and braced himself against the nearest wall.

He nodded politely. "At your service."

Julian blinked and assessed his condition. "I'm hallucinating. I'm hallucinating Garak—why am I hallucinating Garak?"

"Oh, Doctor! I'm offended! Am I unworthy of being the subject of a hallucination?"

"I would think that Jadzia would be a more appropriate choice under the circumstances…"

"I am as real as you are, Doctor!"

"Concussion! Yes, I have a concussion. A very severe, life-threatening concussion."

"You're in denial, Doctor."

"I'm gonna close my eyes and when I open them up, you'll be gone."

Julian took his own advice, but when he opened them again, Garak was still there. He looked amused.

"Garak...I can't believe it," Julian breathed. "Garak, what are you doing here?! Were you on the Defiant?!"

"Indeed I was," Garak confirmed. "It was a most unfortunate set of circumstances. You see, back at the station, I was going to board a transport heading to Bajor, yet I accidentally ended up on the Defiant!"

"Bajor?! Why were you going to Bajor? I don't remember you saying anything about going to Bajor while we were gone...That's an unusually flimsy lie, Garak! And—and if that's true and your presence here on the Defiant is an unfortunate mistake, why didn't you tell the Captain you were on board?"

"Perish the thought! Captain Sisko is far too important to be bothered with my petty problems."

"Garak…your 'petty problems' are 'life and death' scenarios in the real world!" Julian scowled. He pointed at Garak. "You'd better not be responsible for this."

"Responsible for what?"

"For…for this!" Julian gestured at his surroundings.

"You think I caused the Defiant to crash?" Garak asked, looking offended. "I can no more crash the Defiant than shoot a man in the back!"

"I'm in no mood for this! Help me get this off."

Garak was already in the process of doing that. With remarkable ease, he shifted the beam off of Julian and threw it to the side.

Julian braced himself against the wall and managed to drag himself upright. His chest felt tight, but tolerable. At best, he reasoned that he'd just gotten the wind knocked out of him, though he was still unsure of how he'd ended up...wherever he was. While he struggled upright, Garak continued to smile clandestinely, as if they were meeting for another lunch.

Panting, Julian said, "We need to talk about your wanton taste in literature."

"I would love a good debate about my taste in literature, but do you think this is the right time?" Garak asked.

Garak led the way back outside the doors he'd pried open. The mauled corridor was beyond recognition, making it impossible for Julian to get his bearings. Fortunately, Garak seemed to know the way as he stepped over a fallen bulkhead and set off down the corridor at a casual pace.

"Most of the crew has already evacuated," Garak revealed. "The Captain is having everyone regroup outside."

Julian's shoulders loosened. "So we're on the ground."

"On the ground and in one piece...Relatively speaking."

"…Does Captain Sisko know you're here?" Julian asked.

"He'll find out shortly!" Garak beamed at him.

"You seem to be enjoying this."

Julian started to recognize his surroundings and realized that they were heading towards engineering. The debris was less cluttered as they proceeded through the halls, creating a clear path towards their destination. At the end of the hall, Garak ducked through a door.

To Julian's surprise, engineering seemed to have fared better than the rest of the ship. Although the warp core was shut down, it was still in tact—nor did it look like there had been a breach of any sort. The only occupant was an engineer scanning the area with a tricorder. She stopped when they approached. Julian struggled to come up with a name, but it was impossible to discern facial features in the dark.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed. "We thought you were dead!"

"Not quite yet," Julian assured her. "I can't see—who are you?"

"Ensign Tannenbaum, sir."

Right, Tannenbaum. A redhead he knew in passing, though not personally.

"What's the situation?" Julian asked.

"Chaotic," Tannenbaum drawled. "The Captain's trying to organize everyone. Chief O'Brien sent me here to...what's the Cardassian doing here?"

Tannenbaum finally seemed to notice Garak. In the darkness, her expression was unreadable, but her shoulders tensed and her hands curled into fists.

"Good question," Julian sighed. "I need to talk to the Captain. How do we get out of here?"

"The…the crash ripped a hole in the haul," Tannenbaum explained. "Back there. Watch yourself—it's a long way down. I had to crawl back in here through the airlock."

"Got it. Good luck."

"You too."

Tannenbaum indicated a small opening in the back of engineering, just large enough to accommodate a human. Rain pelted on the exposed haul and bore into his head. He peeked out to see that it was easily a fifteen foot drop into an muddy embankment.

"Jump," Garak advised.

"Let me get ready, first!" exclaimed Julian.

Garak pushed him.

The landing wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be, though he tumbled down the embankment and landed face-first in the mud. As he regained his balance, Garak appeared beside him.

"What a charming planet!" Garak remarked.

"Yes, I think I'll take my next leave here," Julian agreed.

It was far too dark to see anything beyond trees and wildlife silhouetted by white beams of light scattered by the rain. Beyond them were raised voices. Julian left Garak's side and pursued them.

As he staggered through the bushes, he found deep footprints leading away from the Defiant. Several lights focused on him as he emerged and several crew members rushing by, not glancing in his direction. Julian thought he heard Worf's baritone voice smothering the rest, but it was difficult to tell with noise coming from all directions.

"Bashir!"

Only one light now focused on him, it was its owner that had addressed him. Sisko emerged from the shadows, coated in mud, however unharmed.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Sisko exclaimed. "And...Garak?! What are you doing here?!"

Sisko's gaze shifted from Garak to Julian.

"Don't look at me!" Julian said defensively. "I didn't bring him!"

"Are you sure he wasn't hiding under your bunk?" Sisko asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Julian chanced a sideways glance at Garak. He wouldn't put it past him.

"I was in a storage closet," Garak explained. "It was most uncomfortable. I can see what Quark meant when he said that the Defiant had ludicrous accommodations."

Sisko gawked at Garak like he'd just sworn his allegiance to the Federation.

"Garak...as soon as we have sorted this all out, we're going to have a long talk about why you were on that ship," Sisko snapped. "In the meantime, go make yourself useful."

"It would be a pleasure!" Garak beamed.

Sisko smiled. Not the kind, paternal smile he usually had, but one that reeked of equal parts fury and dislike. "This isn't over Garak. I'll have questions for you later."

"Of course!" Garak smiled back.

Garak gave Sisko a polite nod and marched unflinchingly into the shadows.

"Doctor, walk with me," Sisko ordered.

Julian followed Sisko through the campsite. They were framed on all sides by countless, oppressive trees, but it was all he could make out. In the small clearing, the crew had scattered in inarticulate attempts to restore order. To the back of the camp, a tarp had been strung between trees to provide limited shelter. It was underneath this that he saw Nurse Dow, a petite and gentle woman who was busy tending to the wounded.

"The most seriously injured are over there," Sisko pointed to the tarp. "We were about to send a party after you when you showed up."

"I got pinned under a bulkhead," Julian explained. "I'm not sure how long I was unconscious, but it's a good thing Garak showed up when he did."

They reached the tarp and Julian got straight to work, blocking out all external noise as he assessed the condition of the injured. There were fifteen of them lined up on the forest floor, and though some were beyond recognition, they were still alive. He was so caught up in examining a Vulcan Lieutenant when he realized that the presence behind him had changed from Sisko to Dow.

"It looks worse than it is," Dow reported. "Most of them have broken bones and deep lacerations."

"Any internal injures?" Julian asked.

"Not that I can tell, but I'd feel more comfortable double checking with a medical scanner. No one's recovered one from the ship yet. Barnhill took the worst of it. He has a severe concussion, at least two broken ribs, and broke both his legs."

has a severe concussion and broke both his legs

Dow indicated a young, blond crewman at the end of the row - a crewman perhaps on one of his first assignments. He lay motionless and didn't responding when Julian pried open one of his eyes. Beaten, broken, bruised, and young - but perfectly alive.

Julian didn't flinch until Dow indicated a final patient who was sitting off to the side, so still that he'd hadn't noticed her in the dim lighting.

It was Kira. Bandages wrapped around her face. He could only see the red fringes of the burns peering out beneath them, scarlet against her clammy complexion. He suddenly recalled seeing her being thrown from her console as it exploded.

"Dow?" Kira guessed as he approached.

"It's me, actually," Julian answered.

She smiled, stretching a cut on her lip. "Julian! Just when I thought I wouldn't have to hear you babble ever again."

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm going to remove these bandages so I can have a look, so hold still."

Julian unravelled the bandages. Although the injury was recent, the white bandages were brown and red with blood and fluids. Kira kept her eyes squeezed shut, creasing the blistering burns concentrated on her forehead and eye sockets. Her eyebrows had been singed off and the creases on her nose were distorted beyond recognition.

"Can you open your eyes?" Julian asked.

"I don't think so," said Kira. A pause, then she added, "Maybe a little bit."

"Try one eye, and do it slowly."

Her left eyelid fluttered as she managed to pry it open just a sliver. Dow directed a flashlight into her eye.

The sclera was crimson and the iris was pearly and unseeing.

Kira squeezed it back shut, panting like she'd just run a marathon. "Okay, that's enough for now."

Julian paused, then turned to the nurse. "What did you give her for the pain?"

"2cc's of triptacederine," Dow answered.

"And let me guess, we haven't recovered any more medical equipment from the Defiant?"

"No, we only have what's in the medical emergency kits."

"…That'll have to do for now. Keep administering triptacederine as needed. I'll ask Sisko to make accessing the medical bay a priority."

"Yes, Doctor."

Perhaps sensing that he wanted to talk with Kira alone, Dow handed him a fresh roll of bandages. As he began reapplying them, he struggled to think of something to say, something that didn't relate to her injuries or the crash of the Defiant.

Finally, he could no longer avoid it, and he said, "Look, Nerys—"

"I know what the prognosis is, Julian," Kira said.

"If we get you back to Deep Space Nine—"

"Then you'll be able to do something, but the Defiant doesn't have the resources to treat severe eye injuries."

"So I wouldn't—"

"Worry about it for now and, in the meantime, try to take it easy."

Despite himself, he smiled. "Which one of us is the doctor now?"

"Doesn't take a doctor to know, Julian."

Her hand shifted, and for the first time Julian noticed a container next to her.

"Is that Odo?" he asked.

"It is," Kira confirmed. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

"Because of the barrier? He should be - I mean, it just prevents him from taking a physical form while we're here. Once we get off the planet, he should be fine."

Julian finished wrapping the bandages and threw the dirty ones to the side with a little more force than he should have.

"I'll be back to check on you later," he said.

Kira nodded and she put her hand on Odo's container. The gesture, for all intensive purposes, was a distraction - a disguise just like her strained smile. Julian was too exhausted to confront he about it, as he knew that there were other patients to tend to. The problem was that the other patients weren't his friends.

He put himself on autopilot after that, a mask he used whenever he was in the middle of crisis. Emergencies were far too common during his tenure at Deep Space Nine. Most of the injuries were non-life threatening. He wouldn't be able to repair the broken bones until the medical equipment was salvaged - if it could be salvaged. He wasn't even sure what kind of condition the medical bay was in. But he did have a dermal regenerator and was able to take care of the most serious lacerations.

Around him, the atmosphere in the campsite changed to one of rigid professionalism he associated with a Starfleet crew. Emergency tents were set up in the clearing, while rain retreated back into the clouds. The rain was was replaced by a weight in the air not unlike the screams of terror that heralded their arrival. Julian still couldn't see the ship, but it was easy to tell what kind of condition it was in based on the comments of the able-bodied crew. There wasn't a happy voice to be heard, only whispers and grim faces.

It was easier to block out all outside input. There would be time to worry about getting home later. For now, Julian was content to be in one piece, though moving caused him to be in uncontrolled pain. He couldn't walk before before needing to set down and rest, something that didn't go unnoticed by Nurse Dow. Still, he kept her at bay. After all, he was certain he hadn't broken anything and the patients had to come first.

Daylight was on the horizon when Sisko came by and Julian reported on the condition of the crew. The Captain was visibly relieved when he heard that he suspected they would make a full recovery.

"I've sent a team to recover what they can from the medical bay," said Sisko. Then, in a quieter voice, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Captain," Julian assured him.

"That's not what Nurse Dow told me."

"It's just bruises."

"You should get some rest."

"I can manage. These patients needs care."

"These patients are stable."

"Sir...please, let me work."

Sisko didn't protest after that and moved a safe distance away, just as Jadzia approached him. Her ponytail had been pulled lose and her hair flowed in thick, dark locks. Julian had never seen her looked so haggard.

"The Chief's found a portable generator," said Jadzia.

"Good, I have a feeling we'll need one," said Sisko. He leaned in to whisper to her. Had Julian not had genetically enhanced hearing, he wouldn't have been able to pick it up, but he was just able to make out the words. "See if you can get Bashir to get some rest."

Julian focused on taking inventory of what had been recovered. Over the last few hours, the salvage teams had passed on emergency medical kits. Though he knew that the supplies inside had limited uses, it was better than nothing. That's when he hear her approach and she stood behind him for far too long.

"Julian?" Jadzia gripped his shoulder.

He didn't look at her.

"Julian, you should rest. You don't look well."

"These people can't wait."

"We can handle it for now, Julian, we need you at a hundred percent."

Julian let out a long sigh. "Ah, the perks of being a medical professional. As of right now, I'm the most valuable member of the crew, aren't I?"

"Try not to let the power go to your head."

Relenting, Julian staggered upright. The first fragments of daylight streaked across the star-strewn sky, exposing the hull of the Defiant. The ship had settled across the forest, flattening trees and wildlife. Once the powerhouse behind Deep Space Nine, it now lay, inert against the forest and silent. The hull caught the rising sun and blinded him, so he looked away to stare at the ground.

"Think we'll get that thing off the ground?" Julian asked.

Not answering, Jadzia wrapped a hand around his shoulder and guided him to the tents.

"Doctor Bashir?"

Julian startled awake, quite sure he was in the middle of a nightmare. He'd dreamt that he was spiralling from the sky in a ship that was on fire. Then, he looked at the campsite and realized that the nightmare was a reality.

It was Nurse Dow who'd woken him up.

"What is it?" Julian asked, rousing himself. "Is someone—"

"No, Captain Sisko asked me to wake up," Dow explained. "He said that the senior staff are having a meeting soon."

Julian rolled off the cot and onto his feet, an action he immediately regretted. Although the bruising didn't throb quite as badly as the night before, it was enough for him to stumble.

"Maybe you should sit this one out, sir," Dow suggested.

"No, I'm fine." She scoffed. "You doctors always make the worst patients..."

"I should—I should check on the patients before the meeting," Julian decided.

Dow made another attempt to dissuade him, but he ignored her. In full daylight, Julian could finally survey the campsite. The Defiant had created a torrential hole in the forest and the campsite had been established in its shadow. He turned his back on it and went to the tarp where the patients rested.

The patients were in much better spirits. Barnhill was now conscious and dazed, but his sentences were more coherent. No complications had emerged over the night and he left feeling satisfied that that the patients would make full recoveries. The rest of the crew hadn't sustained any other injures more serious than cuts and bruises.

The senior staff had congregated a safe distance from the camp and well out of earshot of the junior crew members, though they watched from the sidelines. Julian suddenly remembered that Garak had accompanied them and scanned the crowd. He wasn't among them. Not surprising. If he knew Garak, he was busying himself with inspecting the damaged ship and coming to his own conclusions about the situation. It made Julian uneasy. Of course, Garak typically inspired these feelings of uneasiness.

As Julian approached the senior staff, none of them looked up to greet him. Kira and Odo were noticeably absent.

"—can't just give up, Dax!" Miles was saying. "You're responsible for this mess, so you can think of a way to get us out of here!"

"It is not my fault the ship crashed!" Jadzia raged.

"Well, it's not mine, either!"

"I'm not saying it is!"

"This bickering will get us no where," Worf grumbled.

"Worf's right!" Sisko intervened. "No one is responsible! We need to focus on what's important!"

"It's not that simple," Jadzia snapped.

"There she goes again!" Miles laughed bitterly. "Why are you being so fatalistic? All we have to do is send a distress signal! There will be ships up there looking for us!"

Jadzia's shoulders shifted as she took in a shuddering breath. She scanned each of their faces with awkwardness Julian wasn't accustomed to seeing from her.

"Dax?" Sisko prompted.

"I've…I've checked the navigational logs," Jadzia explained. "I think…well, you see, we may have a bit of a problem with sending a distress signal."

"What do you mean?"

"I can repair the communications array and send a signal out in less than a day!" Miles exclaimed.

"It's not a matter of if we can send a distress signal out." Jadzia folded her arms. "When we hit the temporal anomaly, it displaced us from the spacetime continuum...We've been thrown 200 years into the past."

Silence.

Miles's mouth stretched into a forced smile, accompanied by a huff. "That's ridiculous. Something must be wrong with the sensors."

"I checked," Jadzia said. "They were working just fine."

"Do you think we can get the Defiant off the ground again?" Sisko asked.

They all looked at the downed ship.

"Well…well, maybe the shuttle'll still work," Miles suggested. His eyes flickered in the same way they did when he was searching for ideas. "If we can't get the Defiant up and running again."

"You're a good engineer, Miles, but you're not a miracle worker," said Jadzia.

"I beg to differ!"

"You are setting unrealistic goals," Worf declared. "I don't think the Defiant will fly again."

"Even if we do get off the planet's surface, then what do we do?" Jadzia asked. "We're still 200 years in the past. The wormhole hasn't even been discovered yet!"

"That temporal anomaly could still be there," said Miles.

"And it could throw us 200 more years into the past1"

"So come up with a way to compensate it—or look for a new way to get back! With all of those lifetimes floating around in your head, I'm sure you can think of something to deal with one temporal anomaly!"

"That's enough, O'Brien!" Sisko intervened. "We're not giving hope. If there's a way off this planet, we have to work together to find it. Agreed?" Miles and Jadzia glanced at each other. Miles's look was scathing. Jadzia - guilty, however hopeful.

"Dax, analyze the navigational logs and find out more about this temporal anomaly," said Sisko. "If we're going to get back to our time, we'll need to know what we're dealing with. O'Brien, I want a full damage report."

"Yes, sir," Miles nodded. Sisko's assurances seemed to have put his mind at ease and the tension in his shoulders relaxed.

"Worf, with Odo out of commission, you're in charge of keeping the crew in line," Sisko added. "I'm not expecting trouble, but tensions are going to be running high. I also want you to do a headcount and found out if anyone of the crew is missing."

"Aye," Worf agreed.

"Sir, there's also the matter of Garak," Miles piped up. "Do you think he's responsible for the crash?"

"I'm not sure," said Sisko. "But I'm sure Doctor Bashir will be able to find out. Won't you, Doctor?" All eyes focused on him.

Julian shrugged. "I—I can try."

"You're our best chance, but finding someone to blame for the accident isn't a priority," said Sisko. "We have more important things to worry about."

After a long silence, Miles looked back at the crew and turned back to the Captain.

"Are we gonna tell the crew, Captain?" Miles asked.

Sisko surveyed the sullen faces roaming the camp.

"I don't think we'll be able to hide it," Sisko admitted. "I'll hold a meeting for the whole crew in an hour. We're going to keep things positive and present them with a plan of action. Clear?"

Everyone voiced their agreement.

"Good," Sisko smiled, though his eyes didn't. "Now, remember. Positive."

Julian didn't see much reason to be positive, so it was a good thing he was an adept liar.