Chapter Text
Odo stared out the window of his quarters, unseeing.
Even the stars seemed too faint, now.
And somewhere out there, among those stars, his former colleagues were fighting the Dominion. Sisko. Dax. Bashir. O’Brien.
They were Solids, weren’t they? None of his concern?
Did it matter that they wouldn’t be out there in the first place if it weren’t for him—if Rom had successfully disabled the deflector array?
Wasn’t this his place—where he had always belonged?
He should never have concerned himself with matters of the Solid world—should he have?
The Link was all that mattered.
Loyalty to these people—people he could do nothing to help—would bring him nothing but pain.
His door slid open behind him, and the Founder entered.
He turned.
She would ease his worries, wouldn’t she? Remind him of what mattered?
“I have news, Odo,” she said, walking up behind him. “Our battle with the Federation fleet is going well.”
He sucked in a shaky breath. “There are people out there fighting…dying…people who used to be my friends.”
“They’re Solids, Odo,” the Founder said. “You must remember that.”
“I know,” he said. “But they still mean something to me.”
“The Link means more.”
Odo sighed. “That’s what I keep telling myself. But somehow I can’t quite believe it.”
He paced toward his arched structure. His substance was pulled tight, clenching and unclenching, his matrix twisting into knots.
“You asked me for clarity, Odo,” the Founder said. “I gave it to you. Now, you must accept it.”
He was trying. Oh, how he was trying.
The Founder had offered him what he’d sought all his life. She’d settled the war inside of him, knocked away those false obligations he’d thought were important. She was teaching him what it meant to be a Changeling. Offering him the chance to fully accept what he was—at any cost.
Cost.
Kira’s voice rang in his ears. “I have nothing to say to you!”
The Founder approached him. “It’s Major Kira, isn’t it? You still have strong feelings for her.”
Odo couldn’t answer.
Of all the misplaced obligations he’d torn out of himself—of all the loyalties he’d learned to toss aside—why was she still so stubbornly rooted?
Why couldn’t he stop wanting to see her smile?
“…we are way, way past sorry…”
“She doesn’t deserve your loyalty, Odo,” the Founder said. “You cannot allow a Solid to deny you your rightful place in the Great Link. I couldn’t permit it!”
Odo looked up sharply. “What are you saying?”
“The Major has been arrested.”
“On what charge?”
“That hardly matters,” the Founder said. “What matters is she will be found guilty and sentenced to death.”
—she lay motionless upon the soil—
“No,” Odo gasped.
“Her death is your salvation!” the Founder said. She offered her hands. “Link with me, Odo. Embrace the clarity. It is the only thing that will give you peace!”
Sentenced to death— “No!”
He turned his back, but the Founder’s voice still pelted him. “You cannot help her, Odo. You cannot help any of the Solids, no matter how much you may want to. It’s too late for them.”
Too late…
Was this his fault?
Would this be happening if he’d just done his—
Stop!
He couldn’t start thinking about duty, could he?
He’d lost all of that.
No, not lost—cast away. Weeded out. He’d shed the meaningless burdens he’d imposed on himself in this Solid world. He’d embraced his own nature, finally.
Then why couldn’t he shake the sense that he’d let everyone down?
*
USS Enterprise-E
The bridge was shaking apart.
Data’s hands flew with lightning speed over his Ops console. The helmsman lay dead on the deck plating; Data had transferred helm control to his station and was now focused on fighting his way though the Dominion lines.
“Status!” Picard ordered.
“Shields at ten percent,” Lt. Daniels reported from Tactical. “Comms are down. Phaser banks off-line.”
On Data’s readout, a squadron of Jem’Hadar warships moved in to close the gap ahead.
“Captain,” Data said, “we cannot maneuver through their lines.”
The Enterprise was simply too big. There was no way they could fit.
“Emergency power to shields,” Riker ordered. He tapped his comm panel. “Geordi, we need phasers!”
“Torpedoes incoming!” Daniels reported.
The ship shuddered with the impact. Consoles blew. The bridge filled with smoke.
Data focused intently on his Ops console, his hands darting across the controls as he rerouted power, worked the helm, executed evasive maneuvers, calculated the time to minefield detonation, searched for a gap he could navigate through—
There were more enemy ships closing.
Phasers struck.
The bridge exploded.
*
Terok Nor
“I know you’re confused, Odo,” the Founder said. “But you don’t have to be. All the answers you seek are in the Link.”
The Link…
Oh, how he wanted to believe her.
To seek the Link’s solace, clarity, calm.
“…you just handed the Alpha Quadrant to the Dominion…”
Odo clutched his arched structure for stability, sucked in a deep breath that shuddered through his substance.
“…a lot of people are going to die…”
And they were. Right now, not far from here.
“Don’t you care?”
His door chime dragged him from his thoughts. “Come in.”
Weyoun entered, accompanied by Jem’Hadar guards.
“Forgive the intrusion,” the Vorta said, arms spread, “but Major Kira, the Ferengi saboteur, and the rest of their terrorist group have escaped from the holding cells.”
Odo whirled.
Escaped?
“For your own protection,” Weyoun continued, “I must ask you to come with me.”
“I want them caught,” the Founder ordered.
“They will be,” Weyoun said. “But in the meantime, you’ll both be safer in Ops.”
Safer in Ops.
Safe from…Kira?
Since when wasn’t he safe from her?
Odo’s gaze darted around the room—from the Founder he spent nearly all his time with, to the Vorta currently offering them both protection, to the Jem’Hadar who stood watch outside.
The reality crashed down on him with agonizing clarity.
And Kira had been worried about being a collaborator. Forget collaborating with the Dominion—he’d defected entirely.
“Very well.” The Founder stepped forward, turned to look into Odo’s eyes. “Odo?”
“I’ll be fine here,” he replied.
“You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
More than fine.
Kira had escaped.
She was alive.
He could help her stay alive.
Hope unfurled in his matrix—a sensation he hadn’t felt since before the Dominion war. Since his priorities had been clear.
No matter what the Founder said, he had a chance.
It was worth the pain.
Kira was worth…everything.
As the Founder left his quarters, followed shortly by Weyoun and the Jem’Hadar, it occurred to Odo that he had a distinct—and ironic—advantage.
His defection to the Dominion was horrifyingly complete. But it meant the Founder had every reason to expect he would stay put in his quarters, awaiting her return.
She would never expect him to help Kira.
*
Kira was cornered.
She sank down behind a stack of barrels, disruptor in hand, distantly aware that Rom had one hand cupped to his ear as phaser fire scorched the cargo bay.
“Do you hear that?” Rom said. “That’s Bajoran phaser fire.”
Kira listened, but she didn’t hear much of a difference. Then again, she wasn’t a Ferengi. “Why would Dominion troops be using Bajoran weapons?”
She could, however, hear the thuds as bodies fell to the deck plating. And then, seconds later, the phaser fire stopped.
Cautiously, she stood, then peered around the barrels.
The floor was strewn with Jem’Hadar bodies. And then a very familiar pair of beige boots stepped through them, toward her.
Odo.
“Never underestimate the element of surprise,” he said.
Kira took in his features. She could almost imagine there was warmth in his expression—a far cry from the cold, detached facade that had faced her the day he’d betrayed her.
“…it has nothing to do with me…”
She couldn’t trust that warmth.
Couldn’t take that risk.
But right here, right now, he was her best chance at getting to the central core intact.
*
Kira was back at his side.
Together, they darted though the corridors, Rom and several Bajoran deputies right on their heels.
Odo was under no illusions that she had forgiven him, or even that she would ever trust him again. He had probably forfeited any chance of seeing her smile.
But she was here.
There was no universe where the simple privilege of standing next to her wouldn’t set his matrix alight.
“You have less than forty minutes to shut down the main computer,” he said.
“I hope that’s enough time,” Rom said.
“It’ll have to be.” Kira glanced both ways before they rounded a corner. “Can you keep the Dominion patrols off our backs?”
“I’ll head down to Security,” Odo said. “Create enough false alarms to keep them occupied.” They’d arrived at the access panel. “Any questions?”
Kira faced him. “I could ask why.”
Where could he begin?
Because she threatened your life.
Because I can’t let you die.
—he gathered her in his arms, cupped her head to his chest—
“I…don’t think there’s time to explain it,” he managed. “Besides, I think you know the answer.”
Because I love you.
He couldn’t tear out those feelings—and, now, he barely even wanted to try.
Rom had removed the access panel and climbed inside; Kira ducked in after him. Then she stopped, turning back.
“What about the Link?”
“The Link…was paradise,” Odo admitted. “But…the cost was too high.”
Kira didn’t answer.
Her clear distrust speared him, but there wasn’t time for a conversation—or even for his own self-recrimination. There was only time to disable the station and prevent the anti-graviton beam from detonating the minefield.
If that.
They were cutting it close—which was, he knew, no one’s fault but his own.
He reached for the access panel. “Good luck.”
“You too,” Kira said.
He shut the panel behind her.
*
USS Defiant
Dax watched in horror as the minefield detonated before her eyes.
How could that be it?
Everything they’d fought for, all their engagements with the Dominion—and it was all over in a split second of terrible luck?
She couldn’t believe it.
Refused to believe it.
They’d fight. They’d keep on fighting, until they couldn’t fight anymore. Right up until their fleets were swarmed and obliterated, and the Jem’Hadar overtook the Alpha Quadrant.
“What do we do now, Captain?” she asked.
“Sir!” Nog said. “We have an incoming transmission. Audio only. It’s the Enterprise.”
“Put it on,” Sisko ordered.
*
USS Enterprise-E
Comms were restored. But that was all.
Bright sparks and emergency lighting revealed a bridge littered with fallen conduits and filled with smoke. They were dead in space, and only alive thanks to the Klingons’ fortuitous arrival.
“What’s your status, Enterprise?” Sisko asked over the comm.
“Adrift,” Picard reported. “Yours?”
“The minefield’s been detonated.”
Picard sucked in a sharp breath. “I hope you have a backup plan.”
“I’m going to take the Defiant into the wormhole.”
Picard frowned. “And face the Dominion fleet alone?”
Silence over the comm line.
“Captain,” Data said, turning, “I may have a suggestion.”
Sisko answered. “Let’s hear it.”
“I believe the Defiant’s warp field could be modified to produce a subspace inversion wave,” Data said. “If produced within the wormhole, it would create a cascade reaction in every warp core and detonate the Dominion fleet.”
“Dax?” Sisko asked.
“It could work,” one of his officers reported. “But there’s no margin for error. If our calculations are even slightly off—”
“I will transmit the necessary information,” Data said.
“How soon could it work?” Sisko asked.
“I could complete the modifications in three minutes,” Data said. “However, I cannot do so from the Enterprise. I estimate an organic lifeform would take…approximately fifteen.”
“Too long.”
“And there is another problem,” Data added. “If a significant number of warp cores detonate within the wormhole simultaneously, there is an eighty-six percent chance it will produce a shockwave that will destroy everything within…five light-years.”
“Benjamin,” the same officer said. “That includes Bajor.”
“That is correct,” Data replied.
For a brief moment, the comm was silent.
“The risk is too high,” Sisko finally said. “But that does give me an idea. Stand by, Enterprise. Defiant out.”
*
USS Defiant
“Take us into the wormhole,” Sisko ordered.
“What the hell,” O’Brien muttered. “We’re only going to meet a couple of thousand Dominion ships.”
“One ship against an entire fleet?” Dax asked. “That’s a hell of a Plan B.”
“We’re not going against the fleet,” Sisko said.
Dax frowned at him.
“We’re forgetting,” Sisko said. “This isn’t just a wormhole to Dominion territory—this is the Celestial Temple of the Prophets, and I am their Emissary. I intend to ask the Prophets for a miracle.”
He could see the skepticism on Dax’s face. But he didn’t have time to second-guess himself now, or to wonder whether he was letting his status as the Emissary interfere with his Starfleet duty.
“Take us into the wormhole, Dax,” he repeated quietly.
She turned back to the helm. “Yes, sir.”
The Defiant altered course, and the wormhole bloomed open before him. Dax took them in.
“Full stop,” Sisko ordered. “Chief, divert all power to forward shields.”
Until the Prophets answered, they needed all the protection they could get.
“Captain,” Dax reported, “I’m reading multiple warp signatures ahead.”
“On screen. Maximum magnification.”
The fleet appeared before him, surrounded by the wormhole’s rippling eddies.
“Now,” Sisko said, “we wait.”
*
He didn’t have to wait long.
Familiar light eclipsed his surroundings; his heart beat like a drum in the wormhole’s silence.
“Are you there?” he called. “Show yourselves!”
The light took on an eerie, dreamlike quality, and Sisko found himself standing just outside Odo’s office doors. Or, what looked like Odo’s office doors.
A Prophet appeared, taking on Odo’s appearance. “The Sisko has returned to us.”
“He arrives with questions,” Jake said, from behind Quark’s bar.
Kira’s image appeared—now, in Ops. “There are always questions.”
Then, Dukat, sitting in the Prefect’s office, playing with Sisko’s baseball. “You desire to end the game.”
“What game?” Sisko protested. “I don’t understand!”
“You seek to shed your corporeal existence,” Weyoun said in the wardroom.
“…and that of Bajor,” added the Kira-Prophet.
“That cannot be allowed,” Damar said from the Defiant’s bridge.
Back to Odo, outside Security. “The game must not end.”
“The game,” Sisko repeated. “You mean my life? And Bajor’s future?”
“The game must continue,” the Dukat-Prophet replied.
“You are the Sisko,” said Weyoun.
“You are of Bajor,” added Kira.
“That’s why I’m here,” Sisko said. “I’ve run out of options. I don’t want to see Bajor destroyed, but I must stop the Dominion from conquering the Alpha Quadrant!”
“You…are the Sisko,” Damar said.
“Yes,” Sisko said. “And you chose me as your Emissary. Why?”
“You are of Bajor,” said Jake.
“We are of Bajor,” Kira added.
They appeared around the Ops situation table, silent, all eyes trained on him.
“Bajor cannot be destroyed,” Kira said.
“Then do something about those Dominion reinforcements!” Sisko said.
“That is a corporeal matter,” the Odo-Prophet said.
“Corporeal matters do not concern us,” said Dukat.
“The hell they don’t!” Sisko said. “What about Bajor? You can’t tell me Bajor doesn’t concern you! You’ve sent the Bajorans orbs and emissaries. You’ve even encouraged them to create an entire religion around you! You even say you’re of Bajor. So don’t you tell me you’re not concerned with corporeal matters!”
“Bajor does concern us,” Kira said.
“It is part of our existence,” said the Odo-Prophet.
“And it’s part of mine,” Sisko said. “But if you don’t stop those Dominion ships, it will be destroyed, and there is nothing I can do to stop it!”
The Dukat-Prophet turned to the others. “Then Bajor will be…lost.”
“Lost?” asked Damar.
“Linear entities,” Odo said, turning to Sisko, “cannot go back to get something they have left behind.”
“That’s right,” Sisko said. “We can’t.”
“Bajor must not be lost,” Kira said.
“The game must not end,” said Dukat.
“Then help me!” Sisko cried. “You want to be gods? Then be gods! I need a miracle. Bajor needs a miracle! Stop those ships!”
“We are of Bajor,” Weyoun replied.
Light flashed, and Sisko found himself back on the bridge of the Defiant.
“Forward shields at one hundred percent,” Nog reported.
“Here they come,” Dax said.
Sisko watched the viewscreen.
Waited.
“There must be thousands of them!” Nog said.
“And half of them have locked targets on us,” Garak said.
“Steady, people,” Sisko said. “I believe we will get an answer.”
“Benjamin,” Dax said suddenly.
Something was happening in the wormhole. Eddies flickering and flashing, light playing across the viewscreen. Ripples emanated around the Dominion ships.
And then…they were gone.
“Where did they go?” Nog asked.
“Dax,” Sisko said, “scan for neutrino emissions. I want to be sure they haven’t cloaked.”
Dax shook her head. “Scan negative.”
“Then…it worked?” Bashir asked from the rear of the bridge.
“It appears so,” Sisko said.
O’Brien gave a light huff, his brows raised. “Some miracle.”
*
Terok Nor
“Out of the way, out of the way,” Weyoun ordered. “Step aside. Make way for the Founder.”
The Cardassians and Jem’Hadar troops filling the docking ring corridor parted like the sea, allowing the Founder to step up to the airlock.
“What about Odo?” Weyoun asked. “Is he coming with us?”
“No,” the Founder replied. “But he will join us, one day. It’s only a matter of time.”
With a last look at her Vorta, she retreated into the airlock.
She had underestimated the strength of Odo’s loyalty to that Solid. But it didn’t matter.
Long ago, the Great Link had planted the directive to return home in Odo’s matrix—and all the other hundred infants they had sent out. And over the last several days, she had planted a directive of her own.
One day, soon, Odo would be offered the Link again, and he would not refuse it.
He would have no choice.
*
Deep Space Nine
The airlock rolled open to claps and cheers, and Sisko stepped onto the promenade for the first time in months.
Far too long.
Jake immediately found him, and Sisko pulled his son into a hug. “Ah, Jake.”
“Captain!”
He looked up just as Kira approached from across the promenade.
“Welcome back,” she said, smiling.
“Good to see you, Major,” Sisko said. He took in the promenade’s bustling activity—activity he had missed. “It’s good to see you all!”
Martok arrived and ceded their bloodwine bet; Sisko was distantly aware of the rest of his crew reuniting, catching up.
But one of his officers had yet to appear…
“Really missed you,” Jake said. “It’s good to have you back, Dad.”
“So,” Sisko said, clasping Jake’s arms, “where’s Odo?”
Jake looked Kira’s way.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kira said. There was something odd in her expression, something veiled. “I haven’t seen him since…”
She trailed off, her eyes clouding over.
Then her combadge chirped. “Neyen to Kira.”
Kira tapped it. “This is Kira.”
“Major, we’ve found Dukat in the docking ring.”
“Well, bring him to Security,” Kira said. “Why didn’t you contact Odo?”
“He’s not answering his comm.”
Kira’s lips pressed together.
“Major, Dukat’s in…quite a state,” Neyen reported. “He’s…collapsed over Ziyal’s body.”
The color drained from Kira’s face. “Ziyal’s…body?”
“Yes, Major.”
A second later, she found her composure, and her eyes turned steely. “Bring Dukat to Security. And bring Ziyal to the infirmary. Call in extra deputies if you have to.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Major?” Sisko asked.
“I’ll be in the infirmary, Captain,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She headed across the promenade, followed by a concerned Garak who had just melted out of the crowd.
No sooner had she gone than a Vulcan woman—gold uniform, lieutenant commander—walked up to Sisko. “Captain Sisko?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Lt. Commander T’Sorra,” she said. “Reporting for duty.”
T’Sorra.
“Ah.” Sisko remembered the communique. “You’re the new head of Starfleet’s security attachment here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you seen Odo?”
“No, sir,” T’Sorra replied. “I was on my way to the security office to introduce myself.” She glanced across the promenade to the office in question. “He doesn’t appear to be on duty.”
“Strange,” Sisko murmured. “Major Kira hasn’t seen him, either.”
T’Sorra drew her hands behind her back. “Sir, with your permission, I’ll take temporary charge of security.”
Sisko nodded. “Of course.” He paused, considering; he knew exactly what Odo’s concerns would be. “You understand the command structure?”
“My orders are to report directly to you,” T’Sorra said. “And to Starfleet.”
“You’ll report directly to Odo,” Sisko said. “He’s the station’s chief of security. In any matters involving Starfleet, you’ll serve in an advising capacity—unless the situation calls for more direct oversight.”
T’Sorra nodded. “Understood, sir. Permission to begin my duties?”
“Granted.”
T’Sorra had just headed for the security office doors when a trio of Bajoran deputies approached…dragging a very disoriented Dukat.
The one-time prefect of Bajor was slumped in their grasp, his legs very nearly dragging on the floor, his gaze distant and unseeing.
“We’ll go back to Cardassia, Ziyal,” he mumbled. “We’ll be safe there.” A wistful smile teased his mouth, looking terribly out of place on his face. “You’ll live with me…”
Neyen, the lead of the three deputies, stepped toward Sisko. “Sir, we found him in the docking ring. Apparently, he didn’t evacuate with the rest of the occupational forces.”
Out the corner of Sisko’s eye, Dukat’s gaze briefly zeroed onto his.
“What’s happened to him?” Sisko asked.
“We’re…not sure.” Neyen was visibly discomfited; Sisko didn’t blame her. “We also found this.” She held up his baseball. “Dukat had it. It rolled from his grasp when we hauled him up.”
“Thanks.” Sisko took the baseball, spun it in his fingers. “Put him in a cell for now. Maybe Dr. Bashir can do something for him.”
“Captain,” T’Sorra spoke up.
“Ah.” Sisko turned. “Neyen, this is Lt. Commander T’Sorra, the new head of Starfleet’s security attachment. She’ll be taking temporary charge of security until we’ve located Odo.”
Neyen nodded. “Understood.”
She and the other two deputies dragged a still-mumbling Dukat through the security doors.
T’Sorra, however, stayed behind.
“Something else, Commander?” Sisko asked.
“Yes, sir.” T’Sorra drew her back straight. “Captain, as head of Starfleet security, I’d like to officially recommend that Odo be relieved of duty.”
Sisko frowned. “For how long?”
“Indefinitely.”
“You better have a damn good reason.”
“I do, sir,” T’Sorra said. “He is conspicuously absent. He could be a Founder.”
“Commander, Odo is not a Founder,” Sisko said. “He’s chosen his life here time and time again—”
“Respectfully, sir, I understand that,” T’Sorra said. “I fully understand that there is a difference between a Founder and a Changeling, and that Odo is the latter. However, there is no test that can distinguish that difference, and with the minefield destroyed, the risk of Changelings entering the Alpha Quadrant is high. I do not believe it is prudent for an entity whose identity we cannot establish to maintain charge of security on such a critical post as Deep Space Nine.”
Sisko’s brow twitched. “Well. You’ve certainly thought this through.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sisko paused in thought.
T’Sorra did have a point—and he hated it.
But the fact remained that Odo was the best law enforcement officer Sisko had ever known. This wasn’t just about sentiment for a friend. As Kira had once said over three years ago, Odo got the job done.
“I am not prepared to relieve Odo of duty just yet,” Sisko replied. “But I’ll take your request under advisement.”
“Thank you, sir.”
T’Sorra started for the security office, but stopped again just outside the doors.
“Captain,” she said, “I have also been briefed on certain security breaches that—”
“I have every confidence in the constable.”
T’Sorra tilted her head. “Then where is he?”
*
Odo felt as if his matrix were shaking apart.
He huddled in the dark of his quarters, slumped against one beam of his arched structure, every cell in his body quaking. Shudders tore through his substance; he could barely draw breath, let alone find his feet.
But it was no trouble at all to hold humanoid form.
His matrix wasn’t losing cohesion.
This was nothing like the time, just over a year ago, when his people had forced him to return home and face judgment. He wasn’t losing his ability to maintain his shape.
He just couldn’t think.
Well, he could.
The Link…the Link…the Link…
He needed it.
Now.
His matrix would shake apart without it.
He needed that calm, that serenity, that clarity, that peace. That perfect, blissful connection. That pure pleasure.
But he wasn’t going to get it.
Not anymore.
Suddenly, the door chimed, just on the edge of his awareness.
Odo sucked in a sharp breath, tried to steady his voice. “Who is it?”
“It’s Sisko.”
The captain.
The captain was back.
Starfleet was back.
The Federation was back. The occupation was over. The Dominion was in retreat.
But no thanks to him.
He’d been too late.
“Odo?”
Grasping at his arched structure, Odo hauled himself to his feet, struggling to keep his purchase on the floor. He hunched, gripping the structure for dear life. When he was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to immediately collapse, he croaked, “Come in.”
His door slid open, and Sisko entered.
Odo watched the captain’s eyes search the dim light of his quarters. Saw the moment they landed on him.
Sisko’s brows furrowed. “Constable? Are you alright?”
“…No.”
“I’ve been wondering where you were,” Sisko said. “Kira hasn’t seen you. Neither have your deputies.”
“I’ve been…here,” Odo croaked.
“What’s wrong?”
Odo’s breath hitched, shuddered through his facsimile lungs. His legs trembled. He clutched at the arched structure’s nearest joint.
“Constable—”
“Captain, I request to be relieved of duty,” Odo said. “Temporarily.”
“Why?”
“To be perfectly honest, Captain, I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Constable, you’ve been conspicuously absent today,” Sisko said. “Nearly derelict in your duty—your deputies say you haven’t been answering your comm! And as if that weren’t enough, the new head of Starfleet’s security attachment has asked me to relieve you of duty indefinitely. At this point, I’m inclined to consider it.”
Odo’s head jolted up. “The…new head? Not Shriv?”
Shriv, an Andorian, had been Eddington’s replacement.
“No, he’s been reassigned,” Sisko said. “I’ve placed Lt. Commander T’Sorra temporarily in charge of security.”
Odo managed a shaky nod. “Ah.”
“Odo, what is going on?” Sisko demanded. “Why haven’t you been answering your comm? Why are you hiding here in the dark?”
Odo sighed. “Computer, lights.”
He winced as light flooded his quarters, pressing at his matrix, irritating his cells.
Sisko frowned as, for the first time, he got a good look at Odo’s state. Odo bore his gaze, doing his best to keep his head lifted even as tremors wracked his substance.
“You don’t look well,” Sisko said.
“I’m…not.”
“Talk to me, Constable.”
Odo shuddered. “It’s…the Link.”
“The Link?”
“I…need it,” Odo admitted. “Like you need to talk and socialize. Living without it…I believe it would be akin to solitary confinement.”
“But you look physically unwell,” Sisko said.
A shudder jolted Odo’s matrix; a strangled sound escaped him. “I don’t know, Captain! I have direct control over my matrix—maybe that explains it.”
Sisko studied him.
“Constable,” he said, “if we weren’t at war—”
“I wouldn’t go,” Odo said. “I won’t go.”
“And if the problem gets worse? If it turns out you need your people’s intervention?”
Odo stared the captain down. “I. Won’t. Go.”
Sisko sighed.
“My place is here, Captain.” Forcibly, Odo drew himself as straight as he could. “But I can’t be effective at my job like this. Please, sir—I just need some time.”
“Are you sure?”
Odo scoffed, a pained sound. “No.”
For a long moment, Sisko was quiet. Odo tightened his hold on the arched structure to a death grip.
“You must have several months of leave saved up,” Sisko finally said. “Why don’t you take some of it?”
Odo sighed. “Captain—”
“Constable, I can’t just pull you from your post for an indeterminate period of time,” Sisko said. “But if you go through official channels…”
Odo managed a nod. “Understood, sir.”
“Take a few weeks,” Sisko said. “Go down to Bajor if you like. You’ve held the fort here for more than five years without a break. I’d say you’ve earned a vacation.”
“…Thank you, sir.”
“Well,” Sisko said. “I’ll leave you be.”
The captain retreated from his quarters. The moment the door slid shut behind him, Odo released his grip and shuddered to the floor, ragged gasps tearing through his substance.
The Link…the Link…
No!
He would bear this.
He would resist.
He would never again turn his back on Kira—or his friends.