Well, here is the latest installment of my latest ever-growing fanfiction.
If you would like the first chapter, then head down to:
http://www4.ncsu.edu/~mcausey for it.  As always, C&C is welcome.

--MC3

Yamada Tarou, Labu no Isha

I am Hotohori of Borg. You're not beautiful enough to be assimilated.
--Central Anime
(http://www2.southwind.net/~otaking/central_anime/misc/funstuff/borg.html)

Questions?  Comments?  Love Letters?
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|Speak Japanese?  Spanish?       ||   Like sci-fi/Star Trek/Star Wars/X-Files?|
|Watch/read anime/manga?         ||   Like superhero comics?                  |
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 \_______________________Jackie_/  \_Chan____________________________________/
                              X Japan                               
                                FAN?
                            "Let's Rock."      
          Al Bundy played by Ed O'Neil Married With Children . . .

It is a grimmer time than has ever been known.  Man had just been in
space for a paltry fifty years when they arrived.  Man did not know
much of the Dominion.  But they *knew* they were not to be trusted. 
Some people didn't feel war was necessary, and fled what was to become 
the battleground for Man's Last War.  Now, hundreds of years later, 
scattered amongst the stars, the last vestige of the human race lie in
small patches of colonized asteroids and one station, obscured in the
darkness of space.
******************
Sei ni Ryokou de, Hangyaku!
/Star Trek:  Rebellion!/

Key:  word surrounded by stars = emphasis  (e.g.  Go to hell, *bitch*!)
      double space between paragraphs = flashback
      words in two forward slashes = translation (e.g. In Klingonese:
                                                       /Bastard!/)
      words surround by <> = thoughts  (e.g.  "Hi, boss,"  she said.
                                                <Bastard.>  "Hi," he
                                                responded.  <Slut.>)
      words offset by dashes = sound effects  --KABLAM!--  --Snap--

Definitions of Japanese terms and anime references explained at the end.       

Chapter 1.5  Anyone Can be Your Ally for Two Weeks . . .
(Note:  This takes place during the two weeks summarized at the end of
Chapter 1.)

******************
????, ????
******************

	"I have a proposal for you, a game if you will;  would you be
interested?"  the Detailed One asks coyly.  
	"But I've got to . . ." I scramble  to go . . . somewhere, but in
here there isn't *any* where to go.
	"No, you don't.  That situation is resolved.  But I can tell
you're going to worry me about this.  Here is what happened.  You need
only worry for your immediate present, not your past."
	I reel from the explosion of information he sends directly to my
mind.  Nearly unbearable, I clutch my head as if to keep it from exploding
or to somehow filter the rapid transfer.
	I don't know whether that took an eternity or an instant.  I don't
know if there is a difference here, either.
	"I've decided to suppress certain memories of yours.  Keep you in
check, as it were.  And as bargaining pawns for our little game."  He
leans back and smiled, and props himself against . . . nothing.
	"Let me guess.  I refuse to play, I go back to that Hell of
semi-existence, ne?"
	"Or worse."
	"What are the stakes?"
	"The stakes will be revealed as the game  progresses.  For now,
you are playing for continued existence with some memories.  Goals will be
set for small rewards.  The ultimate reward will be for the end game."
	"One condition," I push at him with doubt.
	". . . hmm, let's hear it . . ."  He stands up straight, a little
more interested.
	"Let's make this place a little more habitable, watcha say?"
	"Now you're talking . . ."
	And the universe I know is transformed, in a snap of his fingers.

******************
Space Station 9, 2366
******************

	"Ikuzo,"  Worf said gruffly.  <Will this never cease?  Dishonored,
too stupid to realize it, informed by a *Cardassian*, and now, if I want
to save her, I have to work with him.  Oh well, after it's all done, I can
kill him.>  Worf beamed as he thought of all different ways he could kill
him.
	<Best check up on this guy Garak needs.>  Sisko thought.  He
pulled out his comm pad and started to uplink to his ship.  <'Kay, there
we go.  Hmm . . . oh, no.  He could've asked me to retrieve someone easier
than this, like Picard for instance.  Or one of the Dominion founders.  Or
a planet of dilithium, but, nooooo, he had to ask me to find the most
stubborn, elusive and downright . . . juvenile human in existence.  The
Weasel.  Great.  Just fu . . .>
	On a hunch that Worf would like to know about their quarry, Sisko
looked up and back at the Klingon, and quickly regretted doing so.  He was
still smiling.  He had been doing so since they had left Garak's shop
minutes ago.<A smiling Klingon can only mean one two things, and I'm not a
Klingon female.  Best to get his mind off "that" and on to one of the few
reasons why he hasn't done "it" yet.  Best also not to piss him off about 
that Weasel character.>
	"So, who is this girl of yours?  Doesn't look Klingon to me."
	"You have no right to inquire about that," Work nearly yelled,
angered by the audacity of the question and being snapped out of his
reverie.
	They had been walking down the Promenade of the station.  Normally
they would have been assaulted by the numerous vendors hawking this
scanner or that holosuite, but a smiling Klingon tended to have a calming
affect on all but the Ferengi.  And with this Klingon, all but the
greediest Ferengi would have paused, to say the least.  As the pair came
to a stop, however, people started to pay attention.  An argument between
a human and Klingon that hadn't erupted into immediate violence would have
to be unique; and even if it didn't, then it had gossip value.
	"Listen, Worf, I may have been dishonorable back there, but now I'm 
trying to help.  I'll be risking my life for God knows how long for that
comatose girl back there and I think I have a fucking right to know!"
Sisko yelled, sensing only more trouble from Worf's senses of honor and
guilt.
	The crowd moved in, involuntarily, listening closely while still
trying to look inconspicuous.
	"You do not have a 'fucking' right to know, you, you, /bastard/!! 
My life is private, and you will only think about asking such personal
questions when and only when you proven yourself in battle!!"
Worf yelled.
	The crowd pushed back, some from the fear of violence, but
mostly from the force of Worf's verbal attack.  This gave all of them the
chance to begin a betting circle, which grew quickly.
	"Fine.  You want me, you got me.  Yoshi!  Ikuzo!"  Sisko pushed
his sleeves back.
	Worf grinned with anticipation and slowly pulled the bat'telh off
his back.  The crowd encircled them, placing bets.  The son of Mogh then
readied himself, falling into a battle stance.  His dark red battle aura
glowed around heim like a red alert beacon.  Sisko knew he had to do 
likewise; much to his regret all he achieved was a constipated look.  Then
he realized something was missing.  A tear drop slowly formed.
	"But, I thought . . . honor requires . . .unarmed . . ."
	Worf's smile broadened as he pulled something from behind his
back.  "A spare, for just such an occasion," he said.
	"Oh.  Heh, heh,"  Benjamin chuckled as he put his hand to his
head, embarrassed.
	"Yoshi!  Ikuzo!"  Worf spat out, mockingly.
	Worf came in with a simple overhead strike.  Sisko blocked and
pushed Worf back.  Worf now knew that Sisko had had *some* training,
and that the fun could begin.
	Sisko knew that Worf had given him an easy strike to test him. His
strength, Sisko knew, was far greater than his own. From the praticed
grace, Ben realized that it was as much a test blow as an attempt to win
some fights quickly due to sheer strength, thus removing the worry of
protracted combat.   Lack of stamina was as big an enemy in this as
anything.
	The odds for Sisko improved.
	Ben concentrated for a moment, bringing some semblance of order to
his jumbled thoughts and cleared his mind.  He placed the bat'telh
directly in front of him with his left hand so that it was perpendicular
to the floor.  He had received a bit of training from a Klingon captain
he'd helped a long time ago.  But Sisko's memories were far from him now.
He was in his battle stance/mind now, and a faint blue silhouette outlined
him.  Worf blinked in surprise.  <This is going to be more fun than I
thought,> Worf commented mentally.  Out loud, however:
	"IchiTenRyu technique, ne?  Quick, efficient, and plagued with one
flaw.  It requires complete concentration and an empty mind.  Few have
mastered it, and then only by a *Klingon*!  I see you're just a little
more worthy opponent, and so I won't bother messing around any more. 
Truly, it begins!"
	The two men began in ernest.  Worf went for a two-handed swipe to
Sisko's right, which he easily deflected.  Worf readied himself for the
counter-attack, but none came.  Worf knew that he was going to have to
finish this quickly.  While this fight remained honorable, it would lose
that status quickly when the human guards showed up. As he went for a
stab-parry, he realized something.  <Wait a minute!  A Klingon technique?
He must've gained somebody's trust enough for them to teach it to them.
Good enough place to set him off balance!>
	"You . . . /dishonorable bastard/!  /You backstabbed your
Klingon master!/"  Worf now was barely visible as a dark red blur. Ben's
front row view, however, granted him the small reward of seeing Worf
smile.  The crowd went from betting if Sisko would win to how much of the
Klingon's body would be covered with his guts.  Worf's movements further
blurred from the sight of the spectators.  Ben was hard pressed with his
training to keep up with Worf's fury incarnate.  Slowly, he began to lose
his concentration and Worf sped up, accordingly.  Finally, the tiny 
bandwith alloted for the tranlsation of Worf's words completed its work.
	"What?"  <What did he say?  Master?  Oh, my G . . . but he
couldn't know . . .>  Sisko was contemplating Worf's words when his mind
flooded with self-suppressed memories.  Sisko's blue aura lowered, his
reaction bandwith fell, and then Worf started drawing blood.  Here and  
there it was flung as Worf made mincemeat out of the saviour of his only
daughter.  He moved like a wind of death.

******************
Dr. Bashir's Office, 4 hours later
******************

	"Where the hell am I?"  Ben said as he groggily sat up.  He was
still shaking the cobwebs out of his head as Bashir pushed him back down.
	"You're in my realm, now, Benjamin!  Hah hah hah!"
	"Not you, Bashir!  Anybody but you!"  Sisko exclaimed in mock
horror.
	"Yes, me,"  Bashir said menacingly as he leaned closer to Sisko's
head.  Then, all of a sudden, he pulled out . . . a diagnostic tool and
began scanning him.
	"Wait a minute, if I'm here, then . . ."
	"Then one of two things happened, and I don't think you that you 
and that Klingon were dating," Bashir said, still scanning.
	Ben winced inwardly at the 'joke' Bashir had made.  He knew what
Klingon mating rituals were like and didn't like the images conjured up.  
Sisko sat up, despite the physical resistance (albeit minor) Bashir gave
him.  The tiny white diagnostic relay that floated around Bashir's head
and translated the information from his diagnostic tools quickly zoomed
away and around to the other side of Bashir's head until it could return
to its natural position over the left eye.  It didn't return for a while
and it almost seemed to be hiding from Sisko.
	<Yeah, right,> Sisko thought.
	"Then that means . . ."
	"Yes, you got the everliving crap beat out of you and,"  Bashir
now got really close to Sisko, and with great glee, said, "you owe me a
lot of money."
	"Oh, crap, what'd he do to me?"  Ben asked with incredulity.
	"Let me see . . . lacerations on your chest and arms, contusions
nearly everywhere else, mild concussion, broken jaw . . ."  Ben rubbed his
sore jaw, ". . . two broken ribs . . ."  Ben had trouble breathing and
wondered how he had sat up, ". . . and finally, the coup de grace, the
penultimate in medical expense, he servered a limb.  Based on the
lacerations, I'd say it was one of the first things he did.  Can you guess
which one?"  Bashir said, mildly amused.
	"Uh . . . not really, uh, my left leg?"  Ben said, truly ignorant.
He poked it, as if, by poking, it would fall off and thus prove it true.
	"You're kidding, right?"  Bashir queried.  He was actually
worried.
	"Nope, you did such a good job, I can't feel a thing."
	"That's also because I've doped you up.  You wouldn't feel
anything right now.  But truly, you don't remember? I'd better check that
concussion," Bashir said.  His relay, understanding Bashir's insinuated
command, zoomed over to the doctor's console, and using a miniature
tractor beam, picked up the diagnostic tool and zoomed back over to
Bashir.  Bashir started to recheck Ben's injury in ernest.
	"I really don't remember.  What'd he cut off?"  Ben asked.
	"Your left hand, you dolt.  Only because the guards came in so
quickly was I able to put it back so well."  He grinned.  "That, and a
certain Cardassian brought you and your severed part as soon as the sl . .
. fight was over,"  Bashir said.  He then turned to the console to
interface with the relay's readings.
	"Garak??  Why didn't he . . . where is he?"  Ben asked, outraged.
	"Same as always, in his shop," Bashir responded.
	"I'm leaving then," Ben said.
	"You can't leave, I'm not finished yet," Bashir replied.
	"Fine . . . I warn you though, I can't pay."  A safe enough
gamble. He didn't have the money anyway, at least in *his* name.
	"You don't have to.  It's already been paid for."  Bashir answered
with another grin, although Ben couldn't see it.
	"What?  Garak?  He isn't *that* altruistic!"  Ben's blood pressure
was steadily rising on the charts in front of Bashir's eye.
	"No, you dolt.  The betting that went on.  The Klingon moved so
fast that none of your blood actually got on him and so . . . all of the
money defaulted to you.  At least that's the story everybody's using to
get out of sounding like a soft-hearted spineless . . ."
	"I get the idea.  They repair me but *I* have to regain their
honor.  And I thought the *Klingons* were bad about that,"  Sisko mused.
	"'Hell hath no fury like that of a pirate scorned," Bashir
misquoted.
	"That's a woman, you third-rate butcher!"  a tall red headed woman
said.  She wore leather.  But not much.  It covered exactly what needed to
be covered if you're a minimalist.  Her eyes shone like emeralds and her
mouth looked too small to say even trisyliballic words.  Her black relay
droid, however, revealed a keen mind able to become a doctor.  As one's 
eyes slid down her tresses they reached her shoulders.  If one followed
the winding coil of her body length braid, one would notice the white
hairs and the red ones locked in a death struggle.  This brought you to her
loosely coiled side-latched whip, or more hentai-ish areas.   She had
*HUGE* . . . amounts of passenger space in her ship and that needed to be
filled with the man in front of her:  Benjamin Sisko.
	"Ahh, Beverly, have you deemed to grant me your presence again?
Well, as you heard, I've been a bad boy and all, misquoting Shakespeare,
have you come to punish me?" Bashir questioned with a poisoned honey
voice.  
	<Except for the last part,> Benjamin thought.  <Sounds like he
actually . . . nah.  Couldn't be.>  Benjamin was then distracted by the
two relays flying away from their egocentric orbits and meeting each other
mid-air.  As the two doctors verbally stabbed, parried, and thrusted with
each other in the background, their two diagnostic relays began a much
similar fight.
	"/I see you have been altered.  Soon your upgrade will be
complete,/"  Beverly's relay transmitted.
	"/I sense a delay in your circuits.  Your power is waning, V8R!/"
Bashir's relay sent.
	"/OB1, you should have been part of the dark series!  Then you
wouldn't have needed an upgrade!/" V8R replied.
	"/Well, my upgrade allows me to do this!/" OB1 taunted.  It had
the ability to project small 3-d holographic objects for detailed study of
diseases and other problems.  However, when concentrated, the solid-light
projector could form a small blade, much like a rapier.  It was blue in
hue.
	"/Impressive.  The dark series already had that ability.  Except
ours is stronger than yours!/" V8R uploaded while it, too, formed a red
solid-light rapier.
	"/It isn't stronger, V8R, it's only easier!/" OB1 transmitted in
ultra-burst packets as it dove for its arch-nemesis.
	Benjamin felt that his concussion needed some support and placed
his hand on the back of his neck.  He was amused as the relays battled one
another with what appeared to be colored sticks . . . of light,
he supposed.  He snapped to attention, however, when Beverly stopped
arguing calmly and started to yell.
	"I absolutely must have Sisko for this mission!  There is no one
else capable of getting me in there!"  Beverly yelled.
	"He has not fully recovered.  His concussion combined with such
stress could cause him permanent damage!"
	"What's the bounty?"  Sisko asked.
	Beverly and Bashir just stared at him, as if he had been a blob,
incapable of speech.  They started to fume at the interruption.  Now that
the two doctors were distracted from their argument, however, and looking
towards Sisko, the two relays were forced to stop their battle.
	"/We shall meet again,/" V8R sent.
	"/I look forward to it,/" OB1 replied.
	And they flew back to their orbits.
	"Yes, I can talk, Beverly.  You may have heard me when you walked
in the room.  No need to stand there, mouth agape, looking like a . . . "
Sisko never had a chance to complete his insult.  His head was now at an
angle usually only attainable by contortionists.
	"How *DARE* you speak to me in such a manner!  I can barely stand
Julian here because of his education, but you, you, you . . ."  Beverly
exploded at Ben.
	Fixing his neck, he turned back towards the redhead and yelled,
"YOU were the one who wanted ME!  I don't care what it was, see if I do it
now, bitch!"  Sisko got off the bench and started getting his vintage
pre-Invasion jacket.  <Be damned if I'll take that from anyone, including
her!  She's worse than . . . oh, shit, Worf!  Where they'd take him?
Probably the prison planet!  Ah, damn, I'm gonna need his firepower for
this mission, especially if what I've heard about his mecha is true!>
Sisko started to bolt from the office, when, suddenly, Beverly burst into
tears.
	Bashir stared, completely dumbfounded.
	"--SNIFF--You've got to help me!--SNIFF--You're my only hope!" the 
woman on her knees said.  Her eyes overflowed with tears.
	<Never have had much of resistance towards woman like this.
Dot-chan, Worf's girl, that one time with her and the karaoke machine . .>
Ben was snapped back to reality by a stinging pain on his neck.  <Oww . .
.>  Beverly was standing now.
	"What the hell did you do to me?"  Ben yelled.
	"Placed a neural control tag behind your ear.  You're under my
control now, Sisko," Beverly said.  "If I don't want you to do something,
you won't do it.  And whatever I want you to do . . ."  She simply
smirked.
	He put his feelings into a tiny compact ball, small enough to
clear his mind and give him a faint blue aura that was undetectable to
most.
	Beverly still smiled, Then, distracted by Bashir's rapid movement,
she turned. Sisko took the opportunity to hit her with a left cross.
	Reeling back, clutching her jaw and bleeding slightly, Beverly
yelled, "Relay, I thought I told you to bind him!"
	"/I did, mistress, but some physilogical change allowed him to .
. ./" it transmitted directly to her.
	"I see, I see," she said out loud, enjoyably licking the blood. 
"You're a strong man, Sisko, but are you strong enough for this!  Relay,
spot 2-3-5!  Go!"  It flew out and with a miniature phaser, barely strong
enough for cauterizing and shot him in a pressure point.  Sisko froze in
his battle stance.
	"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!  Most amusing!  But we'll be leaving now!"
	"Not if he doesn't want to, Beverly."  Bashir pressed a button on
his console.  Beverly's relay fell to the ground.
	"R-CHAN!!!!"  She yelled, clutching it and cooing it like a
mother.
	"None of your toys will work inside this room!  Leave before I
call security!!"  
	She looked up with a grief stricken expression on her face. On her
way to the door, she turned and said, "You'll pay for this! Both of you,
and dearly!" Turning back to the door, she walked out.
	"Here ya go, Ben, you can relax now," Bashir said as he pressed a
hypo-spray on Ben's neck.
	"Thanks . . ."  Ben slurred as he fell to the ground.

******************
Promenade, Next Day
******************

	<Damn, this is turning into one hell of a weekend.  Come in
Friday, get everything set up for a relaxing mini-vacation, go and talk to
Garak, and all hell breaks loose and aims for me.  That's a pirate's life,
for ya,> Benjamin Sisko thought, almost in conversation with himself.
	<Better get to the ship, make sure nothing's happened since
yesterday's debacle.  Oh, damn, just remembered!  They took Worf!>  Ben
thought.  He began to run.  He knew full well what could happen to an
alien caught by the guards of this station.

	He had been playing in the living room in his parents small
apartment on the station with one his best friends, Deanna.  They had done
this countless times before.  However, no matter how well he hid from her,
she always tagged him.  It wasn't so much a game as a way of being with
each other and passing the time.
	Life was pretty hard back then.  The Dominion didn't terribly like
the station, its surrounding asteroids brimming with refugee colonies, or
the purpose thereof. Recent attacks had made life barely tolerable.  For
some reason that day, which Sisko later learned was what he called the
Betrayal of Humanity, the station was peaceful and quiet.  Quiet except
the squealings of two children playing.
	He had made his most complicated feint yet.  He had his father
show him some things with the computer, and now, it acted as decoys for
him.  Random, but likely, placement of recordings of his voice and
holographic images of him were appearing, talking, walking or running 
away, and disappearing.  Today was his test.  If he couldn't sneak up and
tag her first, then he would have to ask her how she did what she did.
Her sense of him was uncanny, to the naive Benjamin's mind.  Later, he
found out exactly how this sense of hers worked.
	Deanna was a small girl, even for her age.  She wore white robes
[1] which normally signified her position as a miko of her family's
religion, which Ben found out later was that of the planet Betazoid.
Normally the robes would be confining, but she had taken off the
extemporaneous sheets and folds, and now it was simple enough to play
around in. She was now standing in the middle of the room, bewildered by
the images.  She would turn one way, then the other.  Sisko's mind chose
now as the time to strike.  She stopped turning and faced the door.
However, Ben didn't feel that anything was out of the ordinary.  He had to
pounce now, mainly because the power he was using up was going to get him
whipped, and he didn't want it to be too severe.  Ben's father's voice
rung in his ears:  "Wartime is not a time to be wasting power!"  Whatever
war was.  Whenever he broached the subject, they started coddling him and
telling him to play.  And so, here he was, playing.  Just as Ben readied
himself, Deanna turned a 180 and yelled, "Gotcha Benji!"
	"How do you do that?"  Ben cried out, dismayed and disappointed at
his failed attempt.  With a snap of his fingers, the decoys vanished.
	"Well, it's like this . . ."  Deanna answered.
	Suddenly the door opened.  Ben's father was there, along with a
Sentinel guard.  The Sentinels were the last line of defense for the
station.  They wore red suits with a large black stripe down their right
sides, starting at their shoulder.  Normally these uniforms were for the
easy detection of guards in the case of invasion, but now they seemed
somewhat more sinister.
	"Mom, I . . ." Deanna whispered, nearly inaudibly.
	Benjamin didn't catch the small outcry from Deanna, and didn't see
her mother yet.  <Dad must be here about the power usage!> Ben thought.
	Panicking, Ben pleaded, "I'm sorry Dad, I really am, I didn't mean
to use up too much power!  I'm sorry!"  Ben shut up quickly when he saw
that his father wasn't even paying him any attention.  He was staring at
Deanna.  Ben now saw that behind his father was Deanna's mom, bound and
being held by some other Sentinels.  She too was wearing the robes of
their religion.  They seemed to pull her down now, especially the necklace
of beads.  Her head hung low, she said distraughtly, "Let's go, Deanna."
	"Yes, mother," Deanna replied.  She waved a final wave to
Benjamin.  Benjamin didn't see it however.
	Benjamin's father went over to him, crouched down and placed his
hands on Benjamin's shoulders.  "Now, son . . ."
	Distracted by his father, Ben didn't even have a chance to say
good-bye.  He would find out later those words would be the last words
he'd hear from her.


*******************
Ben's ship, A While Later
*******************

	<No!  I know she's still alive . . . there . . . I will live up to
my responsibility and I'll be damned if Picard or anyone'll stand in my
way this time!>
	Benjamin worked as he never had before.  Normally, the repairs and
upgrades were for more money or for an easier life in the long run.  Now
they took a grave importance.  He had a mission.
	Ben worked day and night, taking little rest or consolation.  Only
leaving for the occasional stop at Garak's shop for information (which,
due to Garak's hospitality, also meant a little food).  Benjamin completed
repairs he'd pushed off or didn't do because he felt he didn't have the
extra money to complete.  All the extra money he'd saved, sequestered, and
stolen went into this project.  Garak was pleased with Ben's ferocity and
even helped a bit when he could.
	When all the repairs were completed and the upgrade had been
checked and rechecked, Ben made one final stop at Garak's for information
(and some vital food).
	Ben walked in slowly, relaxing in his final respite before his
trip to Hell.  He knew that the trip and the stay were going to be rough
and he wanted a little time to prepare himself:  mentally and
artillery-wise.
	Garak was already prepared for his arrival.  Two green teas in
hand, he walked over to Sisko with a smile.  Sisko took the tea and
sipped.
	"Always the best," Sisko complimented.
	"Yes, well, it's good for business to be able to please the
customer,"  Garak responded modestly.
	"And here I thought you just *knew* everything," Sisko said,
smiling.
	"Everything but the exact method to heal this girl," Garak noted, 
becoming serious.
	"What?  But you said . . ."
	"I said I needed the Weasel.  I didn't say I knew what to do.  I
just know that *he* knows what to do," Garak said, pointing and shaking
his finger.
	 "But how do you know . . ."  Ben asked.
	"I've seen the symptoms before, and Weasel helped with it before,
okay?" Garak defended.
	"Okay, okay, I won't push any further.  It's just I collapsed like
that before, and I came through fine," Ben said.
	"Who's the doctor, here?" Garak asked.
	"Julian Bashir," Ben parried.
	" . . . Well, at least I charge better, ne?" Garak riposted.
	Ben thought for a bit.  "How much did he get out of that, anyway?"
	"Well, let's just say if I hadn't been the middleman between the
other gamblers and him, it would have been a lot more . . ."
	Ben placed down his tea and grabbed Garak by the collar
and calmly but angrily said, "You sat on the sidelines and watched?"
	"Gambled, actually, and won," Garak answered and smiled.
	Ben placed Garak down and asked, happily, "How much?"
	"Well, you know, overhead and repairs for Dot-"
	Ben's voice changed to that of Mephistopholes, or possibly Satan,
and he asked, "*HOW MUCH?*"
	"1000 bars of gold pressed-latinum," Garak answered.
	"Holy . . . my problems are solved!  This is exactly what I
needed to be able to get Weasel!  Thank you!"  And then Ben did what
little would think of him.  He kissed Garak.
	Then he instantly went to a more serious tone.  "Where is it?"
	"Ahem, well, in the safest place possible, in the room with the
girl," Garak answered, any chance of profit on the venture now lost to his
prideful boast.
	"Let me see."
	"Okay, okay, through here, you know the way . . ."  Garak said,
turning around.  He went over to the side wall, keyed in the code,
waited, and entered when the door slid open.  
	Sisko was amazed at the sight before him.  There lay the girl, on
what appeared to be a pedestal of gold, with gold walls and flickering
lights here and there . . .
	Ben Sisko fell unconscious.

******************
Few Hours Later
******************

	"Wake up!!" Garak yelled.
	"Wh . . . what?" Ben groggily replied.
	"You've been out for a couple of hours here, Ben.  What happened?"
Garak asked as he helped Sisko up.
	"Ohh . . . my head . . . well, I saw the girl, I thought back to .
. . to . . . I don't know what.  All I know is that I've got to go.  I
absolutely must start the rescue now.  It's as if . . ."  Sisko said.
	"The gods have commanded you?" Garak asked.
	"Yeah . . . something like that," Ben replied.
	"Oh well, can't stop you when you're in that kind of mood. There's
the weaponry you reqqued," Garak said.  "Free of charge," he said, almost
an afterthought.
	"Thanks," Ben said with smile.  He picked up the stuff and started
to leave.
	"And do me another favor for me, will ya?" Ben asked.
	"What's that?" Garak asked, expecting the worst.
	"Send a message to my brother, tell him I'm hosting a party, and
to bring his friends," Ben said over his shoulder.
	"Gotcha," Garak said.

******************
Ben's Ship, Two Hours Later
******************

	"Requesting permission to depart, Station," Ben said.
	"Permission granted.  Keep to sector D until out of Radius C.
Good luck and good voyage," the attendant said, in a practiced voice.
	"Here we go," Ben said, lifting his ship up and out of the
station.


	"Here we go," the captain of the Sentinel ship said.
	Benjamin was scared.  He had never expected to get this far.  He
talked to his parents, expecting them to *finally* explain everything
about war, but when they shooed him again, he decided to force their hand
and attempt to retrieve Deanna.  That should have brought their attention.
But they ignored him as he left and now he was here, in the crawlway
of the cargo hold of the ship, listening to the intercom of the captain
echo about the hold.  He was in for it now.  However, due to the anxiety
of the war and recent stress of the game he had played, he felt tired and
soon fell asleep.
	He awoke to yells and screams.  As he looked out a grate in the
jeffries tube, he saw Sentinels dragging unwilling aliens of all sorts
through the cargo hold.  He was buffeted by scream after scream but didn't
leave his sleepy surreal view of the scene until he saw Deanna
being led by the Sentinel to . . . whatever planet this was.  
	At this moment, he furiously attempted to undo the hatch seal and 
finally managed to loosen it.  Instead of the long procedure to get it to
slide into its slot, he smashed the emergency button and kicked the hatch
off.  He jumped out and landed crouched and in a very feral position.
He looked as if he were about to leap.
	And that he did.  He lept up and started running towards Deanna.
She looked very stoic and exuded a sense of defeat.  However, when she saw
Ben running towards her, she yelled, "Benji!"
	Surprised, the Sentinel spun around and saw . . . nothing.  Then
he looked down and saw Ben grab at Deanna's arm and start running.
Startled, the guard had let go and now he was running after them.
	Ben ran out of the hold and turned to the left.  He ran blindly
into a Sentinel.  As he looked up, Ben found himself mesmerized by the
gold embroidered in the uniform.  He found out later this meant he was a
captain.  The near-middle-aged man had moppy brown hair, cut to military
specifications, and a piercing blue gaze.  He examined Ben for a second
and then looked up as the Sentinel arrived.
	"Well, what do we have here?" the captain asked.
	Ben was slightly startled as he recognized the voice from earlier,
before he fell asleep.
	"Uh, sir, apparently a human child with a Betazoidan, sir,"
responded the Sentinel.  He was breathing somewhat rapidly from the brief
run and the shock of having his captain before him.
	"I can see that, Jones, but how did this happen?" the captain
asked.
	"I don't know, sir," he responded sheepishly.
	"Well, take the girl on and I'll find out what this boy is doing
here."
	"Yes, sir!" the Sentinel responded.
	Ben screamed as Deanna was pulled away from him, but he could do
nothing as the captain had him secured.
	"Now, now, don't make such a ruckus.  Let's go."
	Ben was carried by the captain to a point a distance away from the
ship and the captain made a command.  The two were teleported onto the
captain's ship.  He then led Ben to his quarters.  By the time they had
gotten there, he had stopped screaming and reduced himself to simply
crying.  Ben had been placed in a couch opposite the captain, who sat in
his chair behind his desk.
	"First things first.  Rick, pull us out of geo-sync and take us to
HC9, on impulse power."
	"Yes, sir, on our way," the man answered.
	"Calm yourself, child.  What is your name?" the captain asked.
	Ben refused to do anything but cry at this point.
	"Fine.  Computer, scan and find the child in the databanks."
	"Working.  Benjamin Sisko, child of Russel and Gladys Sisko,
resident of Human Space Colony Nine."
	"Well, it appears you got on there.  Why were you on my ship?"
	Ben continued crying.
	"Guess it was for that Betazoidan child.  Well, now I have to
take you back.  Computer, prepare communique to the colony informing them 
that . . ."
	The ship then rocked to a side causing both Ben and the captain to
fall from their seats.  The captain got up immediately and started barking
orders to the computer and to random Sentinels as he ran from the office
and towards bridge.
	Ben followed as fast as he could but couldn't keep up.  Bounced
here and there down the hallways from the bumps of running soldiers and
the rocking of the ship.  He stopped running when he heard the voice he'd
heard before and had come to hate with a righteous fury.
	"This is Captain Picard speaking.  All hands, abandon ship, I
repeat, all hands, abandon ship!" he yelled, his voice almost breaking.
	Ben was frightened and didn't know what to do.  He fell to the
ground and curled into a ball hoping and praying that it would all just go
away.
	Later, the noise calmed down, and the explosions became less and
less frequent.  Ben got up and looked around.  It was like a ship of the
dead.  Red was flashing everywhere, and the computer was counting down.
	"3, 2, . . ."
	Ben felt the tug of teleportation and then found himself on the
bridge on another ship.  And staring at the grimacing faces of five
Klingons.
	"What were you doing on that ship and why didn't you eject with
the others?  Were you fulfilling some sort of debt of honor?"
	Ben then told the frightening looking man everything that had
happened in the last day.  With no pauses or breaks.
	When the Klingons had the computer process what he had said and
report it back in Klingonese, their wild-eyed expressions dulled a bit and
went back to their grimace.
	"/Is he a special breed?  He doesn't seem to need to breathe,/"
one of the Klingons asked to no one in particular.
	"/Doesn't matter, at least they're not all xenophobes,/" the
Klingon in the seat said.
	"/And he has some courage, unlike the others on the ship,/"
another of the Klingons said.
	"It is decided.  I will take this one under my wing and see if I
can't make an honorable human," the captain said.


	"Honorable.  Hmmph.  It's taken me ten years since I left the man
to go out on my own to find honor.  Well, at least I've found it," Ben
said to himself.
	He had cloaked his way through most of the border defenses to
Planet Hell, the alien and dissident removal planet of the Dominion and
allied worlds.  Now it was time to play tag.  He started to release sensor
ghosts of all kinds around him.  Decloaking Romulans and Klingons, Ferengi
cruisers, and a normal Sentinel ship, centered directly onto his ship.  He
laughed as his sensors showed him the chaos behind him.  He had reached
the far side of the planet before he released the ghosts and everybody
reported in to each other.  From the sounds of it, the casulties were
light.  <Next time,> Ben thought, <I'll make more ghosts and let them kill
each other off.>
	Ben started tapping into the database interlinked with the ships
and planet.  Listening to the identity transmissions with codes, Ben
realized that the bureacratic system that had grown within the humans
allied with the Dominion had grown senile.  Now they would be searching
frantically for the malfunction and wouldn't figure sabotage for a lot
longer.  Not much time, but some time for Ben to get Worf out.
	As he was going through the lists of names and cells, he happened
to notice a name he hadn't thought about before today for a long time.  <I
didn't even think that she had survived the Klingon raid . . . wait, the
defense shield was up back then and the Klingons had figured the way
through it yet!  All the original deportees are alive unless they died
here!  Deanna, I've found you again!>
        <Time to call in the reserves,> Ben thought.
	"/Let's rock,/" he sent on the preset channel.
	The ships must have had given up on the sensor ghosts being real
at this point because when five Klingon Birds of Prey sensor ghosts
decloaked they failed to raise their shields.
	The ships flew through the explosions like phoenixes rising from
the flames.  They approached Sisko's ship and came to a stop.
	"/You realize what you've done, brother?/" Sisko received from the
flagship.
	"/Yeah, well, it needed to be done.  Living under the yoke of
oppressors is not honorable,/" Sisko responded.
	"/Just remember who was responsible,/" he said.
	"/You remember, blood brother, for glory's sake,/" Ben answered.
	"/I can hear the songs now . . . /" the Klingon said.
	"/Take care of the bureacrats first, and leave some ships this
time,/" Ben commanded.
	"/But, what about the honor of . . ./"
	"/Plenty of glory later, Vargh,/" Ben said.
	"/This Worf had better be worth it,/" Vargh said.
	"/Trust me, I have some insight into this kind of thing,/" Ben
responded.
	"/That's what you said last time, when you left,/" Vargh said.
	"/Get to work,/" Ben said and closed communications.
	<Gotta get there before the riots start and calm the people there.
Last thing I need is to have them trampled before I can save them,> Ben
thought to himself.  He set his ship to geosynchronous orbit.  He beamed
himself near the barrier of the complex he needed.  The planet was red
and barren.  It looked to have had the little mineral resources it had had
already stripped and left as a reminder of one of the consequences for
betrayal of the Dominion.
	<Thank God they're both in the same complex.  Otherwise, I'd have
to choose and that's not something I could deal with right now,> Ben
thought.
	The resistance from the guards was minimal, both strategically and
physically. His batt'elh sliced through them with little effort and they
showed no sense of the ongoing battle in space.  He ran to the closest
control tower.  He took care of the guards surrounding the base of the 
tower as easily as the earlier ones.  He then grabbed on of their laser
rifles and entered the transport tube and lifted to the top.  When the
guard saw him, he immediately lifted his hands in supplication.
	Ben let him go and went to the comm board.  He sent a message to
the Klingon ships and received an okay signal in return a few minutes
later. <Good, everything is going according to plan, for once in my life,>
Ben thought.
	He set the board for broadcast to all the remaining soldiers in
the prison.
	"Soldiers of the Dominion, hear this:  we have taken over the
planet and the control base on the planet's moon.  There are five Klingon
Birds of Prey in orbit around this planet and are getting ready to land
now. We are freeing the prisoners.  Peaceful surrender WILL be met with
peace.  Violence will be dealt with oppositely.  I warn you, though, the
warriors above us have not battled recently and are eager for a chance to
kill Dominion soldiers, and slowly."
	He sent a signal to the Klingon ships to start landing.
	He then set the board for broadcast over the entire prison with 
the universal communicator set to broadcast as needed in the cells and
began to speak:
	"Prisoners and dissidents, one and all, this is the voice of
liberation.  We have secured the planet and the guards are being dealt
with as we speak.  To facilitate the removal of all peoples, please remain
calm.  We will be shutting down power to most of the functions of this
prison momentarily.  This is NOT the time to deal with grudges or ancient
politics.  This is the time to unite against the Dominion.  Ships will be
arriving shortly hereafter to begin the evacuation of the planet.  As with
the guards, violence will be met with death.  Thank you and have a nice
day."

*******************
Ben's Ship, One Day Later
*******************

	"You ruined my plans for escape!  I cannot take that lying down!"
Worf yelled.
	"Will you get over it?  Honor has been satisfied, okay?" Ben said,
relaxing.
	"Not even a single battle for me to . . ."
	"You'll get that, and plenty of it, pretty soon," Ben answered.
	"Alright, well, only because of what Vargh said about you am I
staying around, otherwise I'd find this Weasel myself," Worf replied.
	"Okay, okay, whatever," Ben replied.  At this point, he had other
things on his mind.  What with the impending call to the Orions who had a
hold of Weasel, and with Deanna unresponsive to all but the barest 
necessities of life, Worf seemed a distant worry.  Sisko knew that the
breakout and Worf's meeting with Vargh had proven his value and honor.

*******************
????, ????
*******************

	The plane is aglow with the lights, sounds, and every other
sensual element of what I assume is every culture in existence.
	I think I liked it better the other way.

*******************
[1]  See Subaru's robes in _Tokyo Babylon_.  Here is a url in case you
don't have access to it:
http://www.fortunecity.com/millenium/ruthven/48/atok26.jpg