CONSEQUENCES -- a DS9 bash-Sisko drama
Posted: 2003-01-15 08:34pm
Here's a fanfic for those of you who might have started off liking DS9 and Sisko in particular, but got increasingly pissed off as the series progressed. For me, the turning point between like and dislike was the episode 'For The Uniform'. I was also watching the Transformers series BEAST WARS/BEASTIES around the same time and feeling dismayed that Optimus Primal was turning out to be a better commander than my former favourite Trek commander. Somewhere in amongst mulling over my annoyance and comparing leadership styles, the following emerged...
CONSEQUENCES
(a DS9/BEAST WARS crossover and alternate timeline follow-up to the episode 'For The Uniform')
Benjamin Sisko packed slowly for his trip back to Earth. It was difficult to know how much to take. He'd been assured that he'd be away from Deep Space Nine for at least a fortnight, possibly twice as long, but no more than six weeks. It all depended on how quickly the civilian end of the inquiry proceeded and on what they concluded. He hesitated when he looked over his leisure wear, debating with himself whether he'd even have time to make use of it, then decided to think positively and reached for several of his favourite printed shirts and trousers. If necessary, he could always retrieve some of the outfits that were still hanging in the same spare closet at his father's house. They might no longer be in style or to his taste, but he knew they'd be there; his father hated throwing anything out. Most especially not when it was a reminder of his son.
Sisko looked at the time and sighed. The morning ops briefing was likely just finishing up. The new station commander liked his reports thorough and complete. The discussions he held afterwards took longer now too and were more detailed, reflective of the growing complexity of the threat posed by the new Dominion/Cardassian alliance. Sisko had developed confidence in his stand-in, but still wished he weren't leaving at this time. And he wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for the disaster...
Jadzia Dax's thin voice on his office intercom: "Benjamin. Are you watching the news?"
"No. Why? Is there--"
"Turn it on now."
He'd learned never to argue with that tone and punched up the Federation broadcast. The day's news roundup was already underway. He stared at the grave face of the announcer on the screen and tried to make sense of what he was hearing.
"--yet released details for the cause of this unprecedented tragedy, but will shortly. In the meantime, rescue workers are struggling to maintain the lives of the few survivors. For those viewers joining us late, our headline again: An ITU carrier has gone down in the Solosis system in the DMZ, killing most of the six hundred and thirty-nine persons listed aboard. More details will be forthcoming as soon as--"
Dax burst into his office without knocking. "Oh Benjamin," she exclaimed in anguish. "All those people!"
Sisko could not take his eyes off the screen. "Solosis Three," he whispered to himself.
He turned away and put his hands over his face.
He still remembered that moment when he'd first heard of the disaster, when he'd known it was Solosis Three upon which the carrier had crash-landed even though this last hadn't been made public for an additional two days. And when full knowledge of that poor beleaguered poisoned world had finally come out, then came the outrage and the questions and the cries for accountability. Sisko hadn't been at all surprised when Starfleet came after him...
"Well, Captain Sisko, I suppose you know why I'm here."
"Yes, sir."
Admiral Nechayev suggested that he sit down. Though worded as an invitation, it came out sounding like an order; anything Nechayev said to her subordinates had that air about it. But she knew her stuff. Ben Sisko eyed her hopefully.
"I won't lie to you, Captain. We did our best, but you're still going to have to testify. We've appointed you assistance, of course, and Admiral Mack himself will be taking the stand on your behalf. That may be enough to protect you. It may not. It would have helped if we could say you had cleared your actions with Starfleet beforehand."
Sisko felt his cheeks burn. "I understand. I'll have to return to Earth then?"
"Yes, to San Francisco. The inquiry will be held at Headquarters. That's a point in your favour, actually."
"Yes, thank you." His mind ticked over rapidly, adjusting, calculating. "How long will I be gone?"
"Two, four weeks. We'll be assigning a temporary commander to act in your place. Given the current situation in your sector, I'm afraid Major Kira won't do."
"Of course," Sisko said, and meant it. He, better than anyone, knew the magnitude of the powder keg in development. "Who will it be?" he asked.
"You wouldn't know him. He's from Cybertron, one of their most experienced war leaders. We've decided that a fresh perspective would be valuable and Cybertron has offered the assistance."
"Cybertron? That's in...the Janar outback."
"Yes, the mechanoid world."
Sisko's mind suffered a hitch in step. "I...don't understand, Admiral. Cybertron isn't a Federation member. They're not even eligible."
"True," admitted Nechayev, "but they've been watching our affairs and they're not stupid. They know that the Dominion threat could eventually impact on them, however indirectly."
"But--"
"The decision has already been made, Captain. Commander Optimus will arrive from Cybertron tomorrow and I will be staying for several days to help orient him and oversee your command change-over. Do you have a problem with that?"
Sisko said that he didn't.
A wan smile touched Sisko's face. Optimus... He couldn't even make sense of the name at first, had wondered why he had a name at all. Like everyone else, he knew that Cybertron was an artificial world populated by sentient machines, and that was pretty well all he'd known. The station computer hadn't been much help in furthering his knowledge; the information was sketchy at best, although it had revealed the Cybertrons to be humanoid-patterned in general make and shape, robots really, to use an archaic term. The more he'd found out, the more his doubts grew, and he began envisioning a clunking Borg-like entity with a droning monotone voice and wondered what had happened to so impair Starfleet Command's judgement. And when he'd finally actually met his replacement...
He had thought at first that it was a bizarre joke. Nechayev had come to his office unannounced and had walked in on him without even waiting for an acknowledgement to her knock. Beside her, walking on all fours, was a gorilla. It reared itself into a bipedal stance and Sisko saw that it was some sort of construct, a synth animal perhaps, but this realization did nothing to lessen his confusion. He stood up and stared into the synth's human-like brown eyes and barely noticed that Nechayev was scowling at him. Then she spoke up and introduced Commander Optimus.
Sisko had hesitated for a further excruciating moment before finally extending his hand. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I was expecting something else."
"Understood," Optimus had replied in a genial tone. He shook hands with Sisko, evidently familiar with the ritual. The big animal palm was cooler than it ought to be, the hard structures beneath the pretend skin felt oddly yielding. "This mode is better suited for your environment," the Cybertron officer explained further. "Unless you've some objection, I prefer to remain in it."
"Of course he has no objection," Nechayev snapped before Ben could answer. She still seemed unaccountably angry with him. "Whatever is most comfortable for you, Commander, is what we all prefer," she added.
Optimus glanced at the admiral out of his strange faux eyes. And in that glance, Ben Sisko saw many things: that Optimus was unfazed by Nechayev, that he found her politicking amusing, that he was made--literally made--for command and understood its intricacies to a dispassionate, exhaustive degree unattainable by humans, and that he already felt comfortable standing upon the command deck of this alien station.
Ben's observations depressed him terribly.
Dumb-struck, that's what he'd been, thought Sisko. He'd never forget the image the two of them had made, the small brittle admiral and the great grey hulking brute beside her. Until he stood up. That's when you saw the intellect shining forth. And the personality. Sisko hadn't expected a personality...
Much later that same day Sisko had sought refuge from his troubling thoughts by breaking with routine and going to Quark's for a late solitary supper. It hadn't been the introspective ordeal he'd anticipated. He'd found Dax and Worf already ensconced on the upper dining level and the Trill at least refused to allow Ben any opportunity to wallow in self-pity.
"Join us. I insist."
Sisko saw her companion stiffen. "I came for a meal and--"
"What a coincidence. So did we." She reached sideways to pat the Klingon's arm, but otherwise ignored him. "We just ordered, Benjamin. Please sit with us."
And so he did and Worf had yielded to the inevitable with a curt nod and an audible sigh as he moved to make room. Once they were settled, Dax zeroed in on the obvious.
"So where's Commander Optimus?"
"I left him with the admiral."
"How lucky for him," she remarked with studied blandness. Ben smiled, not much, but enough to tell her that it was safe to go on. "The commander's certainly not what I expected," she continued. "From the footage in the files I assumed he'd appear...well, robotic."
"So did I," said Sisko. "Apparently they can alter their exostructure. It has to do with adjusting for the prevailing environment."
"Really?" Dax paused for a moment, considering. "I asked him about it too and he told me that he felt we'd be more comfortable relating to him if he adopted an organic form."
"He said that to you?"
"Yes, Benjamin. I also asked if he was familiar with Earth, because of the form he chose. He laughed and said, yes and no, and that he'd tell me more about that later." A glint of amusement shone in her eyes as she recalled the Cybertron's surprising banter. "Sounds promising," she concluded.
Sisko didn't see it that way. He was fighting an upswell of sudden hostility prompted by a certain jealousy. Optimus had not even taken official command and already he was saving his confidences for his staff to be; the knowledge left Ben cold and unreasonable. "I don't much like the sound of that," he said. "It implies that he anticipated being discriminated against."
"Perhaps he did," Dax allowed.
"Well, I don't like it," Sisko flared. "It's not an attitude I would expect from an officer, not a Starfleet officer. We've grown beyond judging others by their appearance. Intimating otherwise is insulting. I've dealt with thousands of Starfleet personnel over the years and have never once felt myself discriminated against, never."
"I have," Worf interjected.
Sisko glowered at the Klingon, who glowered right back. Dax, in a loud oblivious voice, exclaimed, "I wonder why Commander Optimus didn't take a human form?"
Worf, distracted, just as he'd been meant to be, answered her. "That would be dishonest."
"And copying a gorilla isn't?"
"It is an animal. It has no rights. Besides, the deception fades the instant he speaks."
"You and I need to talk some more about lesser beings, speaking of attitudes," Dax said, smiling again and patting the muscular Klingon arm for the second time. From out of the corner of one eye, she could see that Ben's brief anger was already dissipating. Now he just looked regretful and sad. Dax wished she could help him, but knew herself to be in a difficult position, torn as she was between her professional obligations to her new superior and her personal feelings for the old. She cast about for a more prudent topic of conversation.
Abrupt irate shouting drew their collective interest. All three looked over the railing and were surprised to see the very source of their dispute on the deck below. Optimus was standing upright with his hands planted on his hips and Quark, gesticulating wildly, was facing him. Within seconds the Ferengi was cringing and fawning, the hard mutter of words had become wheedling, placating. Quark lifted a hand to indicate Dax's table and Optimus looked up, spotted them, and waved. A moment later he was up on the upper level, asking to join them, and Worf was resignedly scrunching over another place.
If Optimus was aware of the tension present, he chose to ignore it. The face he showed them was friendly and open.
"We were just talking about you, sir," Dax confessed, shooting a glance Ben's way. "What was all that about down below?"
"Oh, just a misinterpretation. It seems that your barkeep doesn't appreciate pets in his establishment and took it upon himself to yell for my owner to come and collect me." His bald recitation broke into a very human-sounding chuckle. "I set him straight."
"The Ferengi has no propriety," Worf growled.
"I'm more interested in knowing how he picked you out," Dax mused. "A lot of aliens come through Quark's. From his perspective, Commander, you should've blended right in."
"Ah. He explained that. Somewhat. Something about a gorilla in a...holosuite programme, is it? Primal passions? Primate passions? He was very disjointed, I'm afraid. It was difficult to make sense of what he was saying. Nonetheless, it is how he recognized this mode."
"'Primal passions', you say." Dax repeated the title with utmost seriousness. Her gaze sought out Worf's face and she winked at him. "We haven't run across that one yet."
Quark himself showed up to serve them shortly afterwards and made such an obsequious spectacle of himself as he sought to curry favour with the new officer that Sisko was stirred out of his funk and felt obliged to apologize to Optimus once the Ferengi was gone. The Cybertron good-naturedly shrugged his efforts aside. He hadn't been bothered by Quark's shenanigans at all.
"Actually," Optimus went on, "having a bit of abuse thrown my way made me feel more at home. You don't know my regular crew. I'm privileged if they use my proper name. To be honest, I've already heard enough honorifics today to last me a stellar cycle. Even the rank you've given me is not entirely correct; 'commander' is more my task designation, and only a secondary one at that."
"Secondary?" Sisko echoed, startled. "If all this is secondary, then what do you consider primary?"
"I teach." The wide mouth parted and Optimus favoured them with a sudden toothy smile, whitely brilliant against the dark skin. "Philosophy at one of our higher learning centres. And I supervise the department."
"You teach philosophy?"
The images were too incongruous for Ben. Professors and war heroes, mechanoids and philosophy--he struggled with the jumps. When Optimus had first come aboard, he'd physically interfaced with the station computer and had downloaded whatever information he'd wanted into his own memory. What need would a being capable of such have for any learning at all? He looked helplessly towards Dax and found her regarding the Cybertron with fresh interest, saw respect already kindling in Worf, and felt his equilibrium totter.
Why had Starfleet chosen a supervisor to replace him?
Reflecting back, Sisko wasn't proud of the way he'd initially behaved towards Optimus, but the Cybertron never had taken any apparent notice of his rudeness nor had he let it foster a grudge. Sisko was glad, for he'd grown to like him. After he discovered what Starfleet had known all along...
"What you're about to see, Captain, will not leave this room," Nechayev had said. Sisko had nodded his understanding. Odo and Optimus had waited and watched. The four of them stood alone in the briefing room and there was a guard at the door in the corridor outside and full security protocols had been implemented. Ben was wary and tense, yet a part of him felt already vindicated. He'd suspected from the start that the admiral had been feeding him lines.
Odo shapeshifted into a duplicate of the Cybertron officer. The replication was exquisite. Sisko could not tell them apart. He said as much to Nechayev and she handed him a tricorder.
"Scan them," she ordered. "Both of them."
Founders replicated to the molecular level. It was what made them undetectable, detestable. He looked over the inconclusive analysis the machine made of Optimus's synthetic organic body and then perused the same readings the tricorder got from--
No, not the same. These readings were stable. A whole chunk of the data differed. Sisko's eyes opened wide and his mouth compressed. He compared the scans again and again.
Admiral Nechayev caught the Cybertron's eye and nodded her sleek head. "If you would, please, Commander."
The bulky gorilla form crouched, almost as if preparing to dive from a springboard, then seemed to fold in on itself and partially melt. Armoured metal forms burst forth. Optimus stepped back and then forward on legs which had altered into sturdy mechanized limbs and grinned at Ben out of a robotic face transmuted beyond all recognition.
Sisko sucked in an arrested breath. "You're a shapeshifter!" he exclaimed.
"Nothing quite so grandiose," the new Optimus replied in the same voice as before. "I can only transform between two fixed modes. It's not the same as what the constable's capable of."
"I can imitate this form also," Odo expounded, "at least externally, but a tricorder scan would reveal the same discrepancies." He morphed back into his own more familiar Changeling shape and gazed into the now mechanoid Cybertron's paired opticals for a long measured interval. "I don't believe any of my people could replicate Commander Optimus completely," he added at last.
"But why? Why not? We've seen Founders imitate machine elements before."
"It's our amorphous alloys," Optimus said. "The very stuff which makes us what we are. Your sensory devices can't analyze them, perhaps because of their inherent instability. Organic-based shapeshifters such as Odo apparently can't analyze them either."
"But this--this is astounding." Sisko glanced from one person to the other, faster and faster, his excitement growing. "It means we've found a way to beat them. We have a chance now."
"I'm glad to see that you've grasped the implications so quickly," Nechayev remarked. Unspoken was her own small triumph: And now you know more of why we chose whom we chose...don't ever question your orders, Sisko...we know what we're doing. A slight smile, smug and satisfied, arched her prim lips as she watched the former commander of DS9 revel in his discovery. She knew what was coming next for him and could afford to be generous.
Captain Sisko stashed the last of his toiletries, tucked in the vial of precious Bajoran spices he meant to give to his father to further his endless culinary experiments, and snapped the small personal bag shut. He carried it into the front room of his quarters and placed it alongside his other gear, then stood staring down at the luggage for a long moment. Every time he returned to Earth, it seemed to be under duress. All had worked itself out on the other occasions. He only hoped for more of the same. Either way, he was coming back, and that knowledge alone cheered him like nothing else. Well, onward then. His transport awaited.
A sizable farewell party was also waiting for him by the docking hatch and Sisko felt a tight swell of gratitude and relief when he saw Optimus in amongst the group. He was the first to step forward as Sisko came up to them and warmly wished the human good fortune.
"And don't worry about DS9. I'll see to it that she's looked after," he added. One of his powerful hands lifted up and he tapped the side of his head. "I've got all your station logs, right here."
"Um. Good," Ben replied, a little bemused. The facts of Optimus's mechanoid nature still threw him sometimes. He wasn't sure how to respond further, but the Cybertron continued on before the moment turned awkward.
"Well, I'm sure you'd like a few moments alone with your friends. Until next month then," he said, and promptly saw himself off. Doctor Bashir gazed after the retreating form admiringly.
"I don't care if he is a machine, that is one astute man."
"Lucky for us," Jadzia Dax said. "Benjamin..." And then they all crowded round: Dax, Kira, Bashir, O'Brien, even Worf and Odo. And his sweet Jake, of course, who submitted to a hug and a kiss with squirming, willing embarrassment. All his friends and colleagues, wanting to show that they believed in him and supported him, no matter what. Sisko found himself fighting the sting of tears as he accepted their kindness and strength.
He charged onto the transport ship feeling ready to take on the galaxy.
* * * * *
Sisko made it to Starfleet Headquarters as the working day was winding down and had just time enough to register with reception and collect his credentials before the unit shut down. He went directly to his temporary quarters, got himself unpacked and settled, took a shower, then hiked on over to the mess. His own internal clock was still set to the rhythms of DS9's day and he was ravenous for what would have been a long delayed lunch. He loaded his plates and found a quiet secluded spot far from the entrance.
Halfway through dessert, he was startled by the clamp of hands on his shoulders. He swung about and confronted two uniformed humans, both male, both grinning inanely.
"Good god. Rick and Dick!"
"Benji! What the hell you doing hiding back here?' the shoulder grabber exclaimed, and Sisko, laughing, shot to his feet.
There followed a moment of purely masculine reunion, as palms thumped backs and forearms were grasped, then decorum prevailed and the three of them sat back down. Sisko regarded the newcomers, his friends Richard Dawe and Dick Thornycroft, with delight. They were his contemporaries, old class chums from way back.
"So," Thornycroft, the man who had surprised Sisko, persisted, "what's up, Big Ben? You back to sniff out more Changelings for us?"
"Not this time." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Looks like I have to answer for Solosis Three," he said lightly.
His words drew a complete blank. "You know? The inquiry?" Try though he might, he couldn't prevent a slight quaver from entering his voice. "The world I poisoned to bring in Eddington?"
Thornycroft drew a hand over his prematurely lined face and pulled thoughtfully at his chin. "We know about the inquiry, Ben, just..." He petered out and Rick Dawe stepped in.
"We heard there was some sort of negligence on ITU's part. We were kind of wondering why the board was sitting here at all, thought maybe it had to do with the crash occurring in the demilitarized zone."
"Really?" Sisko blinked rapidly, stared hard at his abandoned dessert. "I--haven't been told very much."
His friends exchanged glances. "It's probably just routine testimony," Thornycroft opined. "You know these civvies. They have to drag everything out."
"I don't know... Admiral Mack is testifying."
"Huh. Mack." Thornycroft waved a hand dismissively. "Mack'd testify at anything if it got him public recognition. I think he's got political ambitions."
"Besides, Starfleet already sanctioned your actions," said Dawe. "Your name got bandied about quite a bit when Eddington got shipped back. Everyone I know thought you were a hero."
"Apparently we don't know the same people," Sisko said bitterly.
"Oh Ben, quit worrying about it. Nobody's going to charge you," insisted Thornycroft. "Look, I know these jokers. Their ass is long since covered. You'll get up, babble a bit, and that'll be the end of it."
"I wish I had your assurance."
Thornycroft laughed, leaned forward, and pointedly tapped the rank insignia on his collar. "Benji, in case it's slipped your notice, I'm a Command puke now. I know."
"Well..."
There followed a pregnant pause, backgrounded by the low murmur of other diners, the sharper racket made by entrants just arriving. Sisko felt the weight of his friends' expectations, the implacable demands of all Starfleet upon him, and surrendered to devoir. He relaxed and his set expression fell, not without relief.
"Better," Thornycroft the commodore remarked. "I swear, this Dominion thing's made you paranoid. No matter what you might think, we do look after our own. Now--what's been going on at that station of yours, anyway?"
"It's been...interesting." The change to a professional subject rather than one personal, relieved Ben further. He began to regain his pleasure in his friends' company as he spoke and regaled them with some of his recent adventures.
"What's it like having the Klingons there?" Dawe wanted to know. "That general, what's his name, the one the Dominion held for so long?"
"Martok? He's all right. I expect he'll do well once fully recovered. The Jem'Hadar worked him over pretty badly."
Mention of the Dominion soldiers aroused Dawe's ire. "Bastards," he exclaimed and his pale eyes glittered. "I wish I was out there. It's so bloody frustrating being stuck in Ops and just watching all the time. You're lucky, Ben."
Thornycroft gave Dawe a nudge with his elbow. "Now, now. They also serve who sit and plot," he paraphrased. "I'm sure Big Ben sometimes wishes he were out of that whole mess and back here, right? Right?"
"Sometimes," Sisko admitted. A few seconds ticked by. His resolve broke and a huge grin spread. "But not often," he added, and Rick Dawe swore.
"Damnit!" he cried, and they all laughed.
Sisko had his first meeting with the person who'd been assigned to provide him with legal assistance. She turned out to be civilian, not military, a bright, very youthful-appearing human woman who seemed far too cheerful and optimistic to have plied her trade for very long. She kept Ben waiting for quite some time while she scanned her screen and ruffled through a sheaf of printouts, humming tunefully under her breath throughout.
"Well, this all seems quite straightforward," she pronounced at last. "Have you ever given evidence at a civilian inquiry before, Captain?"
"No-o," said Sisko. The woman's breezy, offhand manner both fascinated and slightly alarmed him. He opened his mouth to speak further, thought better of it, and watched her go through a second long printout, occasionally highlighting sections she'd read. When done, she favoured him with a smile that seemed at once both chipper and self-satisfied, then handed over the printout.
Sisko recognized it as a copy of the official report he'd sent in to Starfleet months ago. The pages had been stamped with a big red 'DECLAS' both top and bottom.
"I've marked all the portions the board will want to hear about," she advised. "When you give your testimony in your own words, I wouldn't bother with the rest unless you're asked."
Her client was going over his own recorded words in some confusion. "Miss Gesser, this isn't...very much."
"No, but it's all that pertains to you personally. I very much doubt that anyone would want to hear more."
"But there's nothing here which would explain the situation. It's just the final portion of the mission, our--my--actions after learning that Eddington had used biogenics."
Another perky smile. "That's quite correct, Captain Sisko. Admiral Mack will be the one acquainting the board with any necessary background applicable to the military operations that were used to capture Commander Eddington. He'll detail Starfleet's involvement and events as far as your rescuing the disabled Malinche and you can carry on from there."
"Oh. I--" He laboured to come up with some objection, some oversight to point out. "Is there not some topic I should steer clear of? Something I might say that could damage my--" He'd been about to say 'reputation', but stopped himself just in time. That would have made him sound paranoid, as Thornycroft had charged. He finished lamely, "My career?"
Gesser regarded him with puzzlement. "You're concerned that this testimony could impact on your career?"
"Let's just say I have--doubts."
"Well..." She seemed disappointed with him. "You do have the right to request a lawyer, a military lawyer if you prefer."
"Wait a moment. Aren't you a lawyer?"
"Oh. No. Good god, no." His question seemed to strike her as intensely amusing. She could barely keep herself from laughing aloud. "I'm a legal counsel, Captain. You don't need a lawyer to just testify. You're not on trial, you know."
"I'm not?" Sisko, like a fool, exclaimed, and couldn't blame Gesser one bit for responding with a plain gawk of disbelief and another tortured effort to contain her laughter.
"Oh goodness, no," she replied, emphasizing the negative, then looked upon him with sympathy. "Captain, I think someone has given you an entirely wrong idea of what this inquiry is about."
"So it would seem," Sisko admitted ruefully.
Sisko gave his testimony two days later. Before a board of five civilians, watched by a large gallery of Starfleet colleagues and other onlookers, reporters and relatives, Ben explained how he had taken it upon himself to resume his chase after the traitor, Michael Eddington, and how and why he had countered Eddington's threats by poisoning the biosphere of Solosis Three with trilithium resin to flush out a Maquis cell. His counsel, Gesser, moved in to lead him briefly through the political aftermath to his successful tactics--she emphasized that they'd been successful--and then he was done and the board was allowed to question him further. But there were no questions. They simply thanked and dismissed him and Sisko was free to go. The letdown was such that he hurried confused over to base operations, needing to immerse himself in some military complexity to resettle his mind.
Richard Dawe, who was on shift duty, met him at the entrance. "Hey, Ben, done already?"
"Rick, you wouldn't believe it. Twenty-five minutes, tops. They never even questioned me."
"Told you."
He let Sisko come inside, cleared him through security and the scans, and the two began making their way into the complex. Sisko was still perplexed by the ease with which he'd gotten through his self-imposed trial. "That Nechayev," he said. "I'm beginning to wonder whether I truly needed to come back here at all."
"Think she set you up?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was all done to justify employing...well, never mind."
"You mean the Cybertron."
"What else?"
They strode on in silence for a moment. "You know, Ben, about Cybertron, I've been hearing rumours..."
"I'm not interested in rumours." Sisko's mood, already agitated, was starting to darken. "I'm tired of rumours. Any rumours. From now on, I want facts."
"Still, there's talk. About Starfleet wanting to bring Cybertron on line..." He shrugged, even though Sisko wouldn't look at him. "Against the Dominion, I guess. I don't know why. They're just machines."
"They're more than that," Sisko muttered. He expelled a loud breath in annoyance. "Rick, I don't want to talk about this. Right now, I just want to see what's happening back at DS9."
"Oh, sure, Ben. Sure," Dawe said, his eyes wide, and led him on into Ops.
"This can't be correct."
"I'm--sorry, sir. It's quite in order."
"There must be some mistake," Sisko insisted, thrusting the message printout in front of him. The admin clerk he was speaking to, an Andorian, lowered his gaze. It embarrassed him to be involved in a disagreement with a superior officer, however one-sided.
"Would you like to speak to the NCO, sir?" he offered, then was spared any further humiliation by the timely arrival of an even higher power.
"I'll handle this, son," Commodore Thornycroft told the clerk kindly before turning his attention on Sisko. "Ben! What brings you to Admin? I could hear you all the way over in my office."
"It's this message," Sisko said, turning it over with relief. "I found it in my mail when I got back to my quarters after breakfast."
Thornycroft studied it. "It's a course loading message. Two weeks, starting tomorrow."
"It's for leadership intro, level five," Sisko pointed out.
"Yes? And?"
The commodore's expression had turned completely neutral. Sisko shook his head, frustrated. "For god's sake, Dick," he exploded, "I took that course years ago!"
Thornycroft very carefully folded the message in half and handed it back.
"I'm sorry, Ben, there's nothing I can do about this."
"It's a mistake--"
"No it's not. Look--" He paused to move closer and lowered his voice. "Ben, look, this message originated with Command, so it's no error. Now, you're here at Headquarters for an additional two weeks regardless, or however long it takes the inquiry to wrap up Starfleet's end of things. Somebody obviously thinks your time'd be better spent in a classroom than hanging around moping and worrying."
"Who?" Sisko demanded. "Who thinks that?"
"I don't know. Probably Nechayev. She's commander in charge of your sector, isn't she?"
Sisko admitted that she was. Thornycroft waited and gave him a minute. At last, grumpily, he asked, "What should I do?"
"I guess I'd make sure I was in that classroom first thing tomorrow morning," Thornycroft said.
Sisko knew he'd be in for a fortnight of misery the moment he saw his classmates start arriving. None of them were of a rank higher than lieutenant commander. All of them, without exception, looked startled upon catching sight of him, nodded politely, then sought out seats near the front, far away from him. Sisko sighed and sank ever further into despondency. He was well aware of his forlorn status; the solitary captain, sitting alone.
But not for long. A brisk, taut man strode into the classroom. He spotted Ben, did a double-take, then came up smiling and slid into the seat next to Sisko's. He wore captain's pips and seemed intensely familiar. Even so, it took Sisko a moment to place him.
"Ben...Maxwell?" he exclaimed, in near disbelief.
"That's right." Maxwell grinned. His face, careworn and seamed, showed the hardships he'd endured, yet there was about him an air of great cheerfulness. Sisko didn't know what to say next. He could hardly ask, how was prison? as if inquiring after someone's last posting, yet that's where Maxwell had been--still was, Sisko had thought. To his dismay, he saw Maxwell start logging into the terminal on his desk. He evidently meant to stay right where he was.
"You're Ben Sisko, aren't you?" asked Maxwell. "Commander of DS9?"
Sisko nodded warily, although technically Maxwell was incorrect. The other officer--reinstated officer, Sisko reminded himself--nodded with satisfaction.
"I knew it. I've been following events out your way, expect I'll be out in your sector in another couple of months or so."
"You--will?"
"Sure! They've pardoned me, you know. They're even giving me back a ship." Maxwell stabbed at a control with huge satisfaction. "It's those damn Cardies! Never thought I'd owe them, but I do. Command knows I understand how to handle them, even if I did miscalculate politics a time or two in the past. And now that Cardassia's allied itself with the Dominion..." He drove a finger down again, as if already jabbing at a fire control toggle.
Sisko goggled at him. Maxwell had done more than miscalculate, he'd gone on a rampage, wielding his starship like a murderous scythe during his personal glory charge through Cardassian space. He couldn't begin to comprehend why such a man was being returned to active service. It was worse than Command's appointment of Commander Optimus. At least Optimus, mechanoid though he was, seemed a sort one could trust.
Maxwell was far too delighted to simply be part of Starfleet again to take any notice of Sisko's tacit disapproval of him or to respect his reserved silence. He looked at the other officers sitting in the classroom, seemed to observe their youth and rank for the first time, then leaned over towards Ben conspiratorially.
"We two old war horses ought to ace this refresher," he murmured with glee, and Sisko felt like hitting him.
Midway through Sisko's course, the board of inquiry investigating the ITU crash on Solosis Three absolved Starfleet of any wrongdoing and Sisko and the other military personnel who'd been called to testify found themselves freed from any further obligations. The inquiry was moved to a civilian court and resumed a day later and Sisko began hearing the facts of the negligence to which his gossipy friends had alluded. The vessel, Interstellar Trade Union registered, a regular traveller through the DMZ, should have been fitted with safety and emergency comm gear which it simply hadn't possessed for reasons yet unknown. The Cardassian colony on Solosis Three had never known of the crash on their world until far too late. Even worse, most of the casualties had died needlessly, choking to death on an atmosphere made lethal to their human physiology after the ship's crew had managed a very creditable emergency landing. A few hours of breathable canned air would have saved almost all of them. It was very sad. Sisko thought of his own wife's death as he listened and was glad that her passing had not been so drawn out in suffering, so pointless and vile.
This Sisko suffered in other ways, however. Maxwell clung to him, as like often clings to like, the only two captains taking classes intended to introduce new seniors to a whole new level of leadership. He persisted in regarding the entire two weeks as a refresher course and Sisko never once tried to argue otherwise. Sisko had closed his mind to Maxwell, the only way he could personally deal with him. He listened when he spoke, endured his company, worked willingly alongside him, but never with him, not in partnership as good officers were meant to work. If Maxwell was ever aware of Sisko's true feelings, he didn't care. He aced the course.
Ben Sisko also passed, of course, although with lower marks, and the instant he'd scribbled out a cursory course critique and borne the last instructors' last nauseating congratulatory recital, he'd bolted for his quarters and the hope of finding travel orders back to Deep Space Nine. But none were waiting. He knocked around his quarters until he was sure that all the routine traffic for the day was long sent, then sought refuge for the rest of the evening at an obscure holoshow in downtown San Francisco. The last thing he wanted to do was run into his celebrating course mates or, god forbid, Captain Maxwell.
His spirits lifted the moment he entered Admin the next morning. The same poor clerk he'd harangued before greeted him at once and escorted him to the AdminO's office.
"Ah! Benji! Excellent. I knew you'd show up." Thornycroft was in an expansive mood. He made a joke of Sisko's having passed his course, waved him to a more comfortable chair, and came out from behind his desk to share a morning coffee with him. Real coffee, not replicated. Sisko closed his eyes with pleasure as he inhaled the delectable aroma. Thornycroft offered him a small crystal dish full of sweets. "Here. Real chocolate, too. Goes great with the coffee."
"Thanks, but I'll take mine straight." He eyed his friend, a little suspiciously. "What is this, anyway? Showing off your Command perks?"
"No, just a half-assed toast. To your survival. Surviving the inquiry. Surviving the course. Surviving...Maxwell."
"He was the worst," Sisko intoned solemnly.
"Amen to that. I would've slugged him the first day." Thornycroft chuckled as he carefully replaced the lid on the dish of chocolates. Sisko watched him, a half-smile back on his own face.
"There is something going on," he said. "Dick..." The commodore abruptly laughed outright, an infectious laugh, full of good humour. "Out with it," Sisko urged.
"Oh hell, Ben, I can't keep this in any longer. Here. Read this. But mind that it's unofficial yet. Don't go blabbing it all over."
He handed Sisko an activated padd and sat back, smug and expectant. Sisko mulled over the message onscreen for a long moment. "What is this?" he asked.
"God, can you not read all of a sudden? They're putting you on your nines course, Benji. You're getting promoted; hell, you'll be acting come Monday, see the date?"
"Promoted!" Sisko gasped.
"Straight to commodore. Congratulations!"
Sisko didn't hear or acknowledge him. He lunged to his feet, stood there with his chest heaving, his mouth gaping. "What about DS9?" he cried.
"What about it? Let someone else handle it. Besides, it's not as if you're leaving the sector. I've heard that they're opening up a post for you on Bajor."
"Bajor!"
"Military attaché or some such. Pretty impressive. Way to go, Ben! You're on the first rung of the ladder."
Sisko was still panting with emotion, but the reality was starting to seep through. His expression turned wretched, guilt-stricken. "What did I do?"
Thornycroft regarded him with curiosity. "You didn't do anything. What's the matter with you, Ben? You've been working towards admiral your whole career. Don't you want that anymore?"
"Not like this!"
"Well, how then? You can't get promoted if you're going to stick in your heels and mark time." His tone grew cooler, a little annoyed. "It's a big opportunity for you. You'll be the sole Federation rep to an important system. You'll still be right in there, right on top of things."
"I just won't be running them!" Sisko snapped, and Thornycroft's eyes narrowed then and he drew down his imposing grey brows with angry deliberation.
"No," he said, "you won't. But you'll be protecting Federation interests just as surely as do your people aboard DS9. If you can't see that, if you believe otherwise, you belittle all of us who hold shore postings."
Sisko turned his face aside, unable to meet the commodore's cold stare. The worst of it was that Thornycroft was right, but it was a truth Sisko had long feared hearing. He hung his head, defeated and suffused with grief.
Commodore Thornycroft got up. He took one of Sisko's hands as if to shake it, placed his other on Ben's shoulder. "This is the way it is, Benji," he said quietly. "Now, what you're going to do is thank me for giving you this news. Tonight, we're going to get some of the gang together and celebrate. And then you're going to train for your new appointment and do the best job of it that you can. Because you're Starfleet, and that's how it's done. All right, Captain?"
Sisko shook Thornycroft's hand. "Yes, sir," he said.
Sisko, Thornycroft, Dawe, and several others of the old class, all that remained and could be gathered on short notice, celebrated Ben's impending promotion that evening at his father's restaurant. As he watched his father bustle about, so happy and proud, the years dropping away as he served out his best dishes, Ben was suddenly glad that he'd taken Dick Thornycroft's advice and began to look to his future with glum resignation.
But oh, how it still hurt inside!
Ben Sisko received his official promotion to commodore the following Monday. It was an acting commission, dependent upon his successful completion of his senior management course, but Sisko did not foresee any problems in that department. The stresses of administrating DS9 had already taught him much. He began his classes immediately and found them absorbing, even interesting, but not particularly hard. DS9 sent word that his quarters would he held for him until he returned to take up his appointment on Bajor and that was that end of it taken care of as well. He settled into the academic grind after several weeks. He lived in temporary quarters at Headquarters throughout the week and spent most of his weekend time with his father.
One Friday afternoon, just as the last class of the day was finishing up, a runner brought him the message to return home at his earliest convenience. Sisko, apprehensive, always mindful of his father's questionable health, transported as soon as he could arrange for a slot. What was waiting for him was a much pleasanter surprise than he'd anticipated.
"Jake!"
His son slouched forward into his embrace, as endearingly sweet and gangling as ever. "Hi, Dad," he said.
"Jake, why-- What are you doing here?" Whatever the reason, his heart already sang. He felt truly happy for the first time in a month.
Ben's own dad, standing to one side, was beaming with equal joy. "Jake's come home, home to stay," he crooned. He shuffled forward to slip his own arm about his grandson, almost as if he too could barely believe in his presence. "We're all together now," he concluded with satisfaction.
"You're staying?" Ben looked from one to the other of the two, the willowy youngster and the weathered, solid old man, standing protectively at his side. "What do you mean?"
"I decided to go to Pennington, Dad. So I've kinda--moved in."
"You've left DS9."
It was a statement, not a question, spoken with a certain wonder behind it. How often Ben had wished Jake in a safer place, away from the wormhole, yet he'd never quite mustered the cruel courage to order his son away. Now here he was, in the best of all places. Ben Sisko gazed at the two people he loved most in all the universe and felt better still.
"Why, that's wonderful, son. I'm glad." He remembered past incidents which had revealed the depth of Jake's dependence on him. "Guess it got kind of lonely with the Old Man gone, huh?"
"Yeah... Actually, a lot of civilians left. And then Optimus and I had this talk and he sort of convinced me I'd be better off here..."
"Optimus convinced you?"
That half-floored Sisko. In his own way, Jake had one of the most determined personalities he knew. It was never easy convincing Jake to do anything. "Well," he added," that was...good of him."
Jake shifted around and slumped, getting fidgety with so much loving attention focused on himself, and looked up shyly. "He's nice, Dad. Oh, and Kassidy's going to visit soon, too. She doesn't live on the station anymore either."
"I see," Sisko remarked. "It sounds as though Commander Optimus likes making changes."
"Well, it's the war. Um, the one they expect, I mean. They just don't want to be distracted."
"And I for one couldn't agree more," Ben's father said. He squeezed Jake with fierce affection. "When you go back to DS9," he said, addressing Ben, "I want you to thank this commander for me. Thank him for me for sending me my grandson."
Ben watched Jake trying to tactfully wriggle out of his grandfather's embrace. "I'll be sure to do that," he answered dryly.
* * * * *
Commodore Sisko returned to Deep Space Nine six months, three weeks and four days after he'd last bid the place farewell. Even before he docked, he could see the difference; there were ships everywhere, moored at the pylons or simply close by, and all of them were of military configuration. But Jadzia Dax hadn't changed. She met Ben at the airlock and hugged him with as much warmth as ever.
"Benjamin." She fingered the insignia at his neck. "I'm so proud of you...Commodore!"
Sisko had mostly reconciled with his fate. He shrugged off her congratulations without any real rancour.
"Thanks, Old Man. I understand that the station's seen some action while I was gone."
"Oh! Wait'll you see..."
They fell into step together as they walked, the same as always. Dax chattered happily, filling him in. There had indeed been an attack, Gul Dukat making good on his threat to retake the station for his own. What he hadn't bargained for was opposition from the Romulans. And the Cybertrons! Did Sisko know yet that one of their ships now patrolled the sector and that two more Cybertrons had been assigned to the station? And that Optimus was a veritable battle droid under that gorilla pelt of his? Sisko admitted that he knew the Cybertron had a robot mode, but not that it was meant for combat.
"You'll have to look at the logs later," Dax enthused. "There's some amazing footage. We caught Dukat's forces by complete surprise, Benjamin. Between the Klingons and the Romulans and our own people, we just thrashed them. We never even had a casualty aboard station, just some moderate damage and injuries."
"I saw two Klingon warbirds outside with the Fleet vessels. No Romulans, though."
"They only come when intelligence alerts us to the possibility of an attack." The Trill suddenly convulsed with giggles over some remembered amusement. "You should see the Romulans with Optimus, Benjamin. I think they're completely terrified of him. They never know how to behave or what to say to him."
"I suppose they haven't dealt with as many alien lifeforms as we have," Sisko guessed. He looked at her closely. "You're certainly in a light-hearted mood given recent events. I thought DS9 had become militant." He pronounced the final word with exaggerated severity and no small humour of his own and Dax responded with a flashing smile.
"You know me," she said. "I do so love uniforms. Seriously, it's not so regimented as all that. Having the Klingons here livens things up a lot. And all the Starfleet people now, it makes up for so many of the civilians leaving."
"I'll bet Quark didn't leave."
"Oh, Quark's in his element. The only decent bar on board and a captive military clientele. He probably hasn't done so well since the occupation, although he'd never admit to it. Do you want to go by Quark's, Benjamin? I know he'd enjoy seeing you. Optimus and most of the others are busy meeting with the Fleet captains and it'll be a while yet before anyone's free."
"All right. And then I'd better look over my old quarters. I still have to decide what to take with me to Bajor and what to leave here."
"Will you be back often? Optimus mentioned that you'd be checking in once a month."
"That's the plan at the moment," Sisko said, and left it at that.
Quark was indeed happy to see the former commander of DS9. He hurried over at once, dripping false bonhomie and servitude.
"Am I glad to see you!" he exclaimed to Sisko at once. "Please tell me you've come to relieve that Captain Hairball of yours."
"What's the matter, Quark?" Sisko asked, amused. "Don't you like Cybertrons?"
"Not that one. He's too smart, he's like some walking computer." Quark sneered down his crinkled nose to express his revulsion. "It's not fair, Captain, he remembers everything."
"Including your crime record?" Dax interjected, blinking innocently. "By the way, Ben is a commodore now."
"Oh, whatever. Captain, you have to do something about him. He's abusing his authority. Him and Odo, they come in here sometimes and just look at me. They're both shapeshifters, you know. It's disgusting the way they're always together, planning and plotting and--"
Dax broke in again before the Ferengi became completely immersed in his litany. "Quark, why don't you get us both a nice raktajino and then Ben and I will discuss the matter," she suggested in her sweetest tone, and the agitated barkeep, still muttering, allowed himself to be mollified and complied. As soon as he was out of earshot, Sisko dropped the serious act and shook his head.
"I see Quark hasn't changed. What's really going on?"
"Absolutely nothing, except that Optimus keeps a closer eye on him than he'd like. And he read him the riot act about keeping his nose clean when Command first sent in the Fleet and appointed us home port. Optimus tolerates a lot, but not when it's illegal."
"That must have made the constable happy," Sisko mused aloud.
"Utterly," Dax confirmed, and they both paused to savour their brews.
A small knot of Klingon soldiers came into the bar. Sisko passively watched them go by, then almost choked as he caught sight of an arresting mechanoid head towering over the rest. It was helmeted and the exposed visage, bright blue and glossy, was only roughly humanoid, but it turned towards Dax nonetheless as the group passed and the sculpted mouth moved to produce a faint, recognizable smile. Dax continued sipping her drink as she waved her fingers flirtatiously at the being.
"My god," Sisko breathed. "Is that one of the other Cybertrons?"
"Yes, that's his robot mode. He's a warrior. The Klingons adore him. Isn't he gorgeous?"
"You're kidding."
"He can transform into an animal form too, a carnosaur." Her manner went from teasing to downright wicked. "He lets me ride him."
"You're not kidding."
Sisko stared at the Trill and felt all the old feelings that bubbled up whenever his old friend engaged in something outrageous. It spilled over and he laughed, out loud. The Cybertron still standing by the bar amongst his comrades heard him with what was no doubt some enormously enhanced audio sense and looked at him over the heads of the Klingons; and Sisko swore that he could detect a trace of suspicion on the metal face, as though he were being perceived as some rival for Jadzia's affections. The thought of it broke him up completely and he laughed and laughed. It was too loony. He laughed because of the sheer absurdity of the notion, because he was strung tight and needed the release, and because every time he tried to stop, Dax would waggle her expressive eyebrows suggestively at him, which set him off all over again. And most of all he laughed for the sheer relief of it, because he now knew that he could come back to the station which had been taken from him and accept its loss well enough that his visits would bring him more pleasure than pain. He had dreaded that pain, yet it was proving tolerable. Sisko wondered if he were growing into his rank after all, as Thornycroft had said he would.
Later, he went up to ops and touched bases with more of his old staff. Worf, more unyielding than ever in his new role as executive officer, his full commander's insignia still gleaming pristine bright, greeted him perfunctorily. Kira was a light colonel now, her duties shifted more into the domain of the liaison-diplomat. O'Brien had finally, deservedly, been commissioned from the ranks. They were surprising discoveries, yet logical ones. Deep Space Nine's own role and importance had expanded in recent months and the burdens on its personnel had multiplied as well. Not that anybody appeared to mind. Sisko watched closely, but could detect no signs of negativity or reluctance in any of them. They were a happy crew.
The last two people Optimus had still been busy with left the Cybertron's office and stopped briefly to speak with Sisko. One, the commander of the Klingon forces, General Martok, was looking better than Sisko remembered and Ben was glad for him. The other man turned out to be one Edward Jellico, the most senior of the Federation starship captains attached to DS9; Sisko knew him by reputation only and thought that he came across as a good sort for the job, if a trifle stern. And then it was time for Sisko to finally see Optimus and he drew in a deep breath as he mounted the steps to his former office.
Optimus was still wearing his gorilla guise. The sight of it threw Sisko all over again. It so looked like the real animal sitting there behind his desk for those initial few seconds, then one saw the human-like eyes, all wrong for the species, and then the intelligent awareness. And when he stood up and came forward, smiling, as he did now, any last reservations faded.
The Cybertron was happy to see him. He apologized for not having been able to greet Sisko upon his arrival and invited him to have a coffee. Sisko watched bemused as he ordered his own heavily sugared mugful, then began to drink it.
"I'm afraid Nerys and Jadzia have been addicting me to all sorts of items in your replicators," he confessed, noticing Sisko's interest. "Well, it is one of the pleasures associated with maintaining this mode. And it does save on fuel cells." He further noticed that Sisko's gaze had shifted and glanced himself at his own right wrist, encircled now by a band of cloth studded with four pips. "Yes, it seems that I got promoted along with everyone else. Fleet captain now. Rather silly, really. Ed Jellico's the one really running the Fleet. Still, you people do seem to have this need for a structured rank system. I suppose I should be calling you 'sir'."
"It doesn't matter," Sisko said dully.
"Good. As I said before, I don't much care for honorifics."
He next asked after Jake and pressed gently for details on how Sisko had made out on his long course, and Ben found himself telling the Cybertron everything. Optimus then told of the events that had transpired over his own recent past and related what he knew of the current conditions and political mood on Bajor and in the sector in general. Sisko listened to the voice go on, calm, reassuring, casual of tone, inviting familiarity, yet at the same time crisp and commanding; and at that moment all of Sisko's remaining anger and resentment withered and slunk away. He could never compete with Optimus, and Optimus would never understand. The palette of the emotions he'd been programmed with was incomplete, omitted feelings deemed unwanted or unnecessary, left him devoid of ego, of any need for ostentation. Even the animal he imitated was more human, for a real gorilla could be overthrown by a pitiless young rival vying for troop leadership, and then what would the dispossessed feel? Sisko looked deep into the brown faux eyes, made unnaturally bright by the faint luminosity of the workings within, and what he saw only shamed him.
The Cybertron had never seemed more alien.
* * * * *
Commodore Benjamin Sisko began his work on Bajor. Ministers and vedeks peopled his days now and he became used to treading carpeted hallways instead of metal decks. He learned to conduct meetings, not briefings, and to accept the reverence due him as the honoured Emissary. The Bajorans were good people and they were kind to him and appreciative of his presence. The rhythms of his life took on a slower tempo.
He lived in a beautiful villa surrounded by peaceful gardens. At night, no lights shone except those in the sky, and he would go outside and look up, trying to identify the alien constellations. One star in particular always drew him, a star said to represent the single tear shed by a great hero of legend as he abandoned his family for the duties of war, a tear long frozen into glittering rime feathers. Sisko liked looking at this star, and imagining its fanciful creation. And sometimes, although he knew it was impossible, he would pretend that the star was Deep Space Nine.
---END---
CONSEQUENCES
(a DS9/BEAST WARS crossover and alternate timeline follow-up to the episode 'For The Uniform')
Benjamin Sisko packed slowly for his trip back to Earth. It was difficult to know how much to take. He'd been assured that he'd be away from Deep Space Nine for at least a fortnight, possibly twice as long, but no more than six weeks. It all depended on how quickly the civilian end of the inquiry proceeded and on what they concluded. He hesitated when he looked over his leisure wear, debating with himself whether he'd even have time to make use of it, then decided to think positively and reached for several of his favourite printed shirts and trousers. If necessary, he could always retrieve some of the outfits that were still hanging in the same spare closet at his father's house. They might no longer be in style or to his taste, but he knew they'd be there; his father hated throwing anything out. Most especially not when it was a reminder of his son.
Sisko looked at the time and sighed. The morning ops briefing was likely just finishing up. The new station commander liked his reports thorough and complete. The discussions he held afterwards took longer now too and were more detailed, reflective of the growing complexity of the threat posed by the new Dominion/Cardassian alliance. Sisko had developed confidence in his stand-in, but still wished he weren't leaving at this time. And he wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for the disaster...
Jadzia Dax's thin voice on his office intercom: "Benjamin. Are you watching the news?"
"No. Why? Is there--"
"Turn it on now."
He'd learned never to argue with that tone and punched up the Federation broadcast. The day's news roundup was already underway. He stared at the grave face of the announcer on the screen and tried to make sense of what he was hearing.
"--yet released details for the cause of this unprecedented tragedy, but will shortly. In the meantime, rescue workers are struggling to maintain the lives of the few survivors. For those viewers joining us late, our headline again: An ITU carrier has gone down in the Solosis system in the DMZ, killing most of the six hundred and thirty-nine persons listed aboard. More details will be forthcoming as soon as--"
Dax burst into his office without knocking. "Oh Benjamin," she exclaimed in anguish. "All those people!"
Sisko could not take his eyes off the screen. "Solosis Three," he whispered to himself.
He turned away and put his hands over his face.
He still remembered that moment when he'd first heard of the disaster, when he'd known it was Solosis Three upon which the carrier had crash-landed even though this last hadn't been made public for an additional two days. And when full knowledge of that poor beleaguered poisoned world had finally come out, then came the outrage and the questions and the cries for accountability. Sisko hadn't been at all surprised when Starfleet came after him...
"Well, Captain Sisko, I suppose you know why I'm here."
"Yes, sir."
Admiral Nechayev suggested that he sit down. Though worded as an invitation, it came out sounding like an order; anything Nechayev said to her subordinates had that air about it. But she knew her stuff. Ben Sisko eyed her hopefully.
"I won't lie to you, Captain. We did our best, but you're still going to have to testify. We've appointed you assistance, of course, and Admiral Mack himself will be taking the stand on your behalf. That may be enough to protect you. It may not. It would have helped if we could say you had cleared your actions with Starfleet beforehand."
Sisko felt his cheeks burn. "I understand. I'll have to return to Earth then?"
"Yes, to San Francisco. The inquiry will be held at Headquarters. That's a point in your favour, actually."
"Yes, thank you." His mind ticked over rapidly, adjusting, calculating. "How long will I be gone?"
"Two, four weeks. We'll be assigning a temporary commander to act in your place. Given the current situation in your sector, I'm afraid Major Kira won't do."
"Of course," Sisko said, and meant it. He, better than anyone, knew the magnitude of the powder keg in development. "Who will it be?" he asked.
"You wouldn't know him. He's from Cybertron, one of their most experienced war leaders. We've decided that a fresh perspective would be valuable and Cybertron has offered the assistance."
"Cybertron? That's in...the Janar outback."
"Yes, the mechanoid world."
Sisko's mind suffered a hitch in step. "I...don't understand, Admiral. Cybertron isn't a Federation member. They're not even eligible."
"True," admitted Nechayev, "but they've been watching our affairs and they're not stupid. They know that the Dominion threat could eventually impact on them, however indirectly."
"But--"
"The decision has already been made, Captain. Commander Optimus will arrive from Cybertron tomorrow and I will be staying for several days to help orient him and oversee your command change-over. Do you have a problem with that?"
Sisko said that he didn't.
A wan smile touched Sisko's face. Optimus... He couldn't even make sense of the name at first, had wondered why he had a name at all. Like everyone else, he knew that Cybertron was an artificial world populated by sentient machines, and that was pretty well all he'd known. The station computer hadn't been much help in furthering his knowledge; the information was sketchy at best, although it had revealed the Cybertrons to be humanoid-patterned in general make and shape, robots really, to use an archaic term. The more he'd found out, the more his doubts grew, and he began envisioning a clunking Borg-like entity with a droning monotone voice and wondered what had happened to so impair Starfleet Command's judgement. And when he'd finally actually met his replacement...
He had thought at first that it was a bizarre joke. Nechayev had come to his office unannounced and had walked in on him without even waiting for an acknowledgement to her knock. Beside her, walking on all fours, was a gorilla. It reared itself into a bipedal stance and Sisko saw that it was some sort of construct, a synth animal perhaps, but this realization did nothing to lessen his confusion. He stood up and stared into the synth's human-like brown eyes and barely noticed that Nechayev was scowling at him. Then she spoke up and introduced Commander Optimus.
Sisko had hesitated for a further excruciating moment before finally extending his hand. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I was expecting something else."
"Understood," Optimus had replied in a genial tone. He shook hands with Sisko, evidently familiar with the ritual. The big animal palm was cooler than it ought to be, the hard structures beneath the pretend skin felt oddly yielding. "This mode is better suited for your environment," the Cybertron officer explained further. "Unless you've some objection, I prefer to remain in it."
"Of course he has no objection," Nechayev snapped before Ben could answer. She still seemed unaccountably angry with him. "Whatever is most comfortable for you, Commander, is what we all prefer," she added.
Optimus glanced at the admiral out of his strange faux eyes. And in that glance, Ben Sisko saw many things: that Optimus was unfazed by Nechayev, that he found her politicking amusing, that he was made--literally made--for command and understood its intricacies to a dispassionate, exhaustive degree unattainable by humans, and that he already felt comfortable standing upon the command deck of this alien station.
Ben's observations depressed him terribly.
Dumb-struck, that's what he'd been, thought Sisko. He'd never forget the image the two of them had made, the small brittle admiral and the great grey hulking brute beside her. Until he stood up. That's when you saw the intellect shining forth. And the personality. Sisko hadn't expected a personality...
Much later that same day Sisko had sought refuge from his troubling thoughts by breaking with routine and going to Quark's for a late solitary supper. It hadn't been the introspective ordeal he'd anticipated. He'd found Dax and Worf already ensconced on the upper dining level and the Trill at least refused to allow Ben any opportunity to wallow in self-pity.
"Join us. I insist."
Sisko saw her companion stiffen. "I came for a meal and--"
"What a coincidence. So did we." She reached sideways to pat the Klingon's arm, but otherwise ignored him. "We just ordered, Benjamin. Please sit with us."
And so he did and Worf had yielded to the inevitable with a curt nod and an audible sigh as he moved to make room. Once they were settled, Dax zeroed in on the obvious.
"So where's Commander Optimus?"
"I left him with the admiral."
"How lucky for him," she remarked with studied blandness. Ben smiled, not much, but enough to tell her that it was safe to go on. "The commander's certainly not what I expected," she continued. "From the footage in the files I assumed he'd appear...well, robotic."
"So did I," said Sisko. "Apparently they can alter their exostructure. It has to do with adjusting for the prevailing environment."
"Really?" Dax paused for a moment, considering. "I asked him about it too and he told me that he felt we'd be more comfortable relating to him if he adopted an organic form."
"He said that to you?"
"Yes, Benjamin. I also asked if he was familiar with Earth, because of the form he chose. He laughed and said, yes and no, and that he'd tell me more about that later." A glint of amusement shone in her eyes as she recalled the Cybertron's surprising banter. "Sounds promising," she concluded.
Sisko didn't see it that way. He was fighting an upswell of sudden hostility prompted by a certain jealousy. Optimus had not even taken official command and already he was saving his confidences for his staff to be; the knowledge left Ben cold and unreasonable. "I don't much like the sound of that," he said. "It implies that he anticipated being discriminated against."
"Perhaps he did," Dax allowed.
"Well, I don't like it," Sisko flared. "It's not an attitude I would expect from an officer, not a Starfleet officer. We've grown beyond judging others by their appearance. Intimating otherwise is insulting. I've dealt with thousands of Starfleet personnel over the years and have never once felt myself discriminated against, never."
"I have," Worf interjected.
Sisko glowered at the Klingon, who glowered right back. Dax, in a loud oblivious voice, exclaimed, "I wonder why Commander Optimus didn't take a human form?"
Worf, distracted, just as he'd been meant to be, answered her. "That would be dishonest."
"And copying a gorilla isn't?"
"It is an animal. It has no rights. Besides, the deception fades the instant he speaks."
"You and I need to talk some more about lesser beings, speaking of attitudes," Dax said, smiling again and patting the muscular Klingon arm for the second time. From out of the corner of one eye, she could see that Ben's brief anger was already dissipating. Now he just looked regretful and sad. Dax wished she could help him, but knew herself to be in a difficult position, torn as she was between her professional obligations to her new superior and her personal feelings for the old. She cast about for a more prudent topic of conversation.
Abrupt irate shouting drew their collective interest. All three looked over the railing and were surprised to see the very source of their dispute on the deck below. Optimus was standing upright with his hands planted on his hips and Quark, gesticulating wildly, was facing him. Within seconds the Ferengi was cringing and fawning, the hard mutter of words had become wheedling, placating. Quark lifted a hand to indicate Dax's table and Optimus looked up, spotted them, and waved. A moment later he was up on the upper level, asking to join them, and Worf was resignedly scrunching over another place.
If Optimus was aware of the tension present, he chose to ignore it. The face he showed them was friendly and open.
"We were just talking about you, sir," Dax confessed, shooting a glance Ben's way. "What was all that about down below?"
"Oh, just a misinterpretation. It seems that your barkeep doesn't appreciate pets in his establishment and took it upon himself to yell for my owner to come and collect me." His bald recitation broke into a very human-sounding chuckle. "I set him straight."
"The Ferengi has no propriety," Worf growled.
"I'm more interested in knowing how he picked you out," Dax mused. "A lot of aliens come through Quark's. From his perspective, Commander, you should've blended right in."
"Ah. He explained that. Somewhat. Something about a gorilla in a...holosuite programme, is it? Primal passions? Primate passions? He was very disjointed, I'm afraid. It was difficult to make sense of what he was saying. Nonetheless, it is how he recognized this mode."
"'Primal passions', you say." Dax repeated the title with utmost seriousness. Her gaze sought out Worf's face and she winked at him. "We haven't run across that one yet."
Quark himself showed up to serve them shortly afterwards and made such an obsequious spectacle of himself as he sought to curry favour with the new officer that Sisko was stirred out of his funk and felt obliged to apologize to Optimus once the Ferengi was gone. The Cybertron good-naturedly shrugged his efforts aside. He hadn't been bothered by Quark's shenanigans at all.
"Actually," Optimus went on, "having a bit of abuse thrown my way made me feel more at home. You don't know my regular crew. I'm privileged if they use my proper name. To be honest, I've already heard enough honorifics today to last me a stellar cycle. Even the rank you've given me is not entirely correct; 'commander' is more my task designation, and only a secondary one at that."
"Secondary?" Sisko echoed, startled. "If all this is secondary, then what do you consider primary?"
"I teach." The wide mouth parted and Optimus favoured them with a sudden toothy smile, whitely brilliant against the dark skin. "Philosophy at one of our higher learning centres. And I supervise the department."
"You teach philosophy?"
The images were too incongruous for Ben. Professors and war heroes, mechanoids and philosophy--he struggled with the jumps. When Optimus had first come aboard, he'd physically interfaced with the station computer and had downloaded whatever information he'd wanted into his own memory. What need would a being capable of such have for any learning at all? He looked helplessly towards Dax and found her regarding the Cybertron with fresh interest, saw respect already kindling in Worf, and felt his equilibrium totter.
Why had Starfleet chosen a supervisor to replace him?
Reflecting back, Sisko wasn't proud of the way he'd initially behaved towards Optimus, but the Cybertron never had taken any apparent notice of his rudeness nor had he let it foster a grudge. Sisko was glad, for he'd grown to like him. After he discovered what Starfleet had known all along...
"What you're about to see, Captain, will not leave this room," Nechayev had said. Sisko had nodded his understanding. Odo and Optimus had waited and watched. The four of them stood alone in the briefing room and there was a guard at the door in the corridor outside and full security protocols had been implemented. Ben was wary and tense, yet a part of him felt already vindicated. He'd suspected from the start that the admiral had been feeding him lines.
Odo shapeshifted into a duplicate of the Cybertron officer. The replication was exquisite. Sisko could not tell them apart. He said as much to Nechayev and she handed him a tricorder.
"Scan them," she ordered. "Both of them."
Founders replicated to the molecular level. It was what made them undetectable, detestable. He looked over the inconclusive analysis the machine made of Optimus's synthetic organic body and then perused the same readings the tricorder got from--
No, not the same. These readings were stable. A whole chunk of the data differed. Sisko's eyes opened wide and his mouth compressed. He compared the scans again and again.
Admiral Nechayev caught the Cybertron's eye and nodded her sleek head. "If you would, please, Commander."
The bulky gorilla form crouched, almost as if preparing to dive from a springboard, then seemed to fold in on itself and partially melt. Armoured metal forms burst forth. Optimus stepped back and then forward on legs which had altered into sturdy mechanized limbs and grinned at Ben out of a robotic face transmuted beyond all recognition.
Sisko sucked in an arrested breath. "You're a shapeshifter!" he exclaimed.
"Nothing quite so grandiose," the new Optimus replied in the same voice as before. "I can only transform between two fixed modes. It's not the same as what the constable's capable of."
"I can imitate this form also," Odo expounded, "at least externally, but a tricorder scan would reveal the same discrepancies." He morphed back into his own more familiar Changeling shape and gazed into the now mechanoid Cybertron's paired opticals for a long measured interval. "I don't believe any of my people could replicate Commander Optimus completely," he added at last.
"But why? Why not? We've seen Founders imitate machine elements before."
"It's our amorphous alloys," Optimus said. "The very stuff which makes us what we are. Your sensory devices can't analyze them, perhaps because of their inherent instability. Organic-based shapeshifters such as Odo apparently can't analyze them either."
"But this--this is astounding." Sisko glanced from one person to the other, faster and faster, his excitement growing. "It means we've found a way to beat them. We have a chance now."
"I'm glad to see that you've grasped the implications so quickly," Nechayev remarked. Unspoken was her own small triumph: And now you know more of why we chose whom we chose...don't ever question your orders, Sisko...we know what we're doing. A slight smile, smug and satisfied, arched her prim lips as she watched the former commander of DS9 revel in his discovery. She knew what was coming next for him and could afford to be generous.
Captain Sisko stashed the last of his toiletries, tucked in the vial of precious Bajoran spices he meant to give to his father to further his endless culinary experiments, and snapped the small personal bag shut. He carried it into the front room of his quarters and placed it alongside his other gear, then stood staring down at the luggage for a long moment. Every time he returned to Earth, it seemed to be under duress. All had worked itself out on the other occasions. He only hoped for more of the same. Either way, he was coming back, and that knowledge alone cheered him like nothing else. Well, onward then. His transport awaited.
A sizable farewell party was also waiting for him by the docking hatch and Sisko felt a tight swell of gratitude and relief when he saw Optimus in amongst the group. He was the first to step forward as Sisko came up to them and warmly wished the human good fortune.
"And don't worry about DS9. I'll see to it that she's looked after," he added. One of his powerful hands lifted up and he tapped the side of his head. "I've got all your station logs, right here."
"Um. Good," Ben replied, a little bemused. The facts of Optimus's mechanoid nature still threw him sometimes. He wasn't sure how to respond further, but the Cybertron continued on before the moment turned awkward.
"Well, I'm sure you'd like a few moments alone with your friends. Until next month then," he said, and promptly saw himself off. Doctor Bashir gazed after the retreating form admiringly.
"I don't care if he is a machine, that is one astute man."
"Lucky for us," Jadzia Dax said. "Benjamin..." And then they all crowded round: Dax, Kira, Bashir, O'Brien, even Worf and Odo. And his sweet Jake, of course, who submitted to a hug and a kiss with squirming, willing embarrassment. All his friends and colleagues, wanting to show that they believed in him and supported him, no matter what. Sisko found himself fighting the sting of tears as he accepted their kindness and strength.
He charged onto the transport ship feeling ready to take on the galaxy.
* * * * *
Sisko made it to Starfleet Headquarters as the working day was winding down and had just time enough to register with reception and collect his credentials before the unit shut down. He went directly to his temporary quarters, got himself unpacked and settled, took a shower, then hiked on over to the mess. His own internal clock was still set to the rhythms of DS9's day and he was ravenous for what would have been a long delayed lunch. He loaded his plates and found a quiet secluded spot far from the entrance.
Halfway through dessert, he was startled by the clamp of hands on his shoulders. He swung about and confronted two uniformed humans, both male, both grinning inanely.
"Good god. Rick and Dick!"
"Benji! What the hell you doing hiding back here?' the shoulder grabber exclaimed, and Sisko, laughing, shot to his feet.
There followed a moment of purely masculine reunion, as palms thumped backs and forearms were grasped, then decorum prevailed and the three of them sat back down. Sisko regarded the newcomers, his friends Richard Dawe and Dick Thornycroft, with delight. They were his contemporaries, old class chums from way back.
"So," Thornycroft, the man who had surprised Sisko, persisted, "what's up, Big Ben? You back to sniff out more Changelings for us?"
"Not this time." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Looks like I have to answer for Solosis Three," he said lightly.
His words drew a complete blank. "You know? The inquiry?" Try though he might, he couldn't prevent a slight quaver from entering his voice. "The world I poisoned to bring in Eddington?"
Thornycroft drew a hand over his prematurely lined face and pulled thoughtfully at his chin. "We know about the inquiry, Ben, just..." He petered out and Rick Dawe stepped in.
"We heard there was some sort of negligence on ITU's part. We were kind of wondering why the board was sitting here at all, thought maybe it had to do with the crash occurring in the demilitarized zone."
"Really?" Sisko blinked rapidly, stared hard at his abandoned dessert. "I--haven't been told very much."
His friends exchanged glances. "It's probably just routine testimony," Thornycroft opined. "You know these civvies. They have to drag everything out."
"I don't know... Admiral Mack is testifying."
"Huh. Mack." Thornycroft waved a hand dismissively. "Mack'd testify at anything if it got him public recognition. I think he's got political ambitions."
"Besides, Starfleet already sanctioned your actions," said Dawe. "Your name got bandied about quite a bit when Eddington got shipped back. Everyone I know thought you were a hero."
"Apparently we don't know the same people," Sisko said bitterly.
"Oh Ben, quit worrying about it. Nobody's going to charge you," insisted Thornycroft. "Look, I know these jokers. Their ass is long since covered. You'll get up, babble a bit, and that'll be the end of it."
"I wish I had your assurance."
Thornycroft laughed, leaned forward, and pointedly tapped the rank insignia on his collar. "Benji, in case it's slipped your notice, I'm a Command puke now. I know."
"Well..."
There followed a pregnant pause, backgrounded by the low murmur of other diners, the sharper racket made by entrants just arriving. Sisko felt the weight of his friends' expectations, the implacable demands of all Starfleet upon him, and surrendered to devoir. He relaxed and his set expression fell, not without relief.
"Better," Thornycroft the commodore remarked. "I swear, this Dominion thing's made you paranoid. No matter what you might think, we do look after our own. Now--what's been going on at that station of yours, anyway?"
"It's been...interesting." The change to a professional subject rather than one personal, relieved Ben further. He began to regain his pleasure in his friends' company as he spoke and regaled them with some of his recent adventures.
"What's it like having the Klingons there?" Dawe wanted to know. "That general, what's his name, the one the Dominion held for so long?"
"Martok? He's all right. I expect he'll do well once fully recovered. The Jem'Hadar worked him over pretty badly."
Mention of the Dominion soldiers aroused Dawe's ire. "Bastards," he exclaimed and his pale eyes glittered. "I wish I was out there. It's so bloody frustrating being stuck in Ops and just watching all the time. You're lucky, Ben."
Thornycroft gave Dawe a nudge with his elbow. "Now, now. They also serve who sit and plot," he paraphrased. "I'm sure Big Ben sometimes wishes he were out of that whole mess and back here, right? Right?"
"Sometimes," Sisko admitted. A few seconds ticked by. His resolve broke and a huge grin spread. "But not often," he added, and Rick Dawe swore.
"Damnit!" he cried, and they all laughed.
Sisko had his first meeting with the person who'd been assigned to provide him with legal assistance. She turned out to be civilian, not military, a bright, very youthful-appearing human woman who seemed far too cheerful and optimistic to have plied her trade for very long. She kept Ben waiting for quite some time while she scanned her screen and ruffled through a sheaf of printouts, humming tunefully under her breath throughout.
"Well, this all seems quite straightforward," she pronounced at last. "Have you ever given evidence at a civilian inquiry before, Captain?"
"No-o," said Sisko. The woman's breezy, offhand manner both fascinated and slightly alarmed him. He opened his mouth to speak further, thought better of it, and watched her go through a second long printout, occasionally highlighting sections she'd read. When done, she favoured him with a smile that seemed at once both chipper and self-satisfied, then handed over the printout.
Sisko recognized it as a copy of the official report he'd sent in to Starfleet months ago. The pages had been stamped with a big red 'DECLAS' both top and bottom.
"I've marked all the portions the board will want to hear about," she advised. "When you give your testimony in your own words, I wouldn't bother with the rest unless you're asked."
Her client was going over his own recorded words in some confusion. "Miss Gesser, this isn't...very much."
"No, but it's all that pertains to you personally. I very much doubt that anyone would want to hear more."
"But there's nothing here which would explain the situation. It's just the final portion of the mission, our--my--actions after learning that Eddington had used biogenics."
Another perky smile. "That's quite correct, Captain Sisko. Admiral Mack will be the one acquainting the board with any necessary background applicable to the military operations that were used to capture Commander Eddington. He'll detail Starfleet's involvement and events as far as your rescuing the disabled Malinche and you can carry on from there."
"Oh. I--" He laboured to come up with some objection, some oversight to point out. "Is there not some topic I should steer clear of? Something I might say that could damage my--" He'd been about to say 'reputation', but stopped himself just in time. That would have made him sound paranoid, as Thornycroft had charged. He finished lamely, "My career?"
Gesser regarded him with puzzlement. "You're concerned that this testimony could impact on your career?"
"Let's just say I have--doubts."
"Well..." She seemed disappointed with him. "You do have the right to request a lawyer, a military lawyer if you prefer."
"Wait a moment. Aren't you a lawyer?"
"Oh. No. Good god, no." His question seemed to strike her as intensely amusing. She could barely keep herself from laughing aloud. "I'm a legal counsel, Captain. You don't need a lawyer to just testify. You're not on trial, you know."
"I'm not?" Sisko, like a fool, exclaimed, and couldn't blame Gesser one bit for responding with a plain gawk of disbelief and another tortured effort to contain her laughter.
"Oh goodness, no," she replied, emphasizing the negative, then looked upon him with sympathy. "Captain, I think someone has given you an entirely wrong idea of what this inquiry is about."
"So it would seem," Sisko admitted ruefully.
Sisko gave his testimony two days later. Before a board of five civilians, watched by a large gallery of Starfleet colleagues and other onlookers, reporters and relatives, Ben explained how he had taken it upon himself to resume his chase after the traitor, Michael Eddington, and how and why he had countered Eddington's threats by poisoning the biosphere of Solosis Three with trilithium resin to flush out a Maquis cell. His counsel, Gesser, moved in to lead him briefly through the political aftermath to his successful tactics--she emphasized that they'd been successful--and then he was done and the board was allowed to question him further. But there were no questions. They simply thanked and dismissed him and Sisko was free to go. The letdown was such that he hurried confused over to base operations, needing to immerse himself in some military complexity to resettle his mind.
Richard Dawe, who was on shift duty, met him at the entrance. "Hey, Ben, done already?"
"Rick, you wouldn't believe it. Twenty-five minutes, tops. They never even questioned me."
"Told you."
He let Sisko come inside, cleared him through security and the scans, and the two began making their way into the complex. Sisko was still perplexed by the ease with which he'd gotten through his self-imposed trial. "That Nechayev," he said. "I'm beginning to wonder whether I truly needed to come back here at all."
"Think she set you up?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was all done to justify employing...well, never mind."
"You mean the Cybertron."
"What else?"
They strode on in silence for a moment. "You know, Ben, about Cybertron, I've been hearing rumours..."
"I'm not interested in rumours." Sisko's mood, already agitated, was starting to darken. "I'm tired of rumours. Any rumours. From now on, I want facts."
"Still, there's talk. About Starfleet wanting to bring Cybertron on line..." He shrugged, even though Sisko wouldn't look at him. "Against the Dominion, I guess. I don't know why. They're just machines."
"They're more than that," Sisko muttered. He expelled a loud breath in annoyance. "Rick, I don't want to talk about this. Right now, I just want to see what's happening back at DS9."
"Oh, sure, Ben. Sure," Dawe said, his eyes wide, and led him on into Ops.
"This can't be correct."
"I'm--sorry, sir. It's quite in order."
"There must be some mistake," Sisko insisted, thrusting the message printout in front of him. The admin clerk he was speaking to, an Andorian, lowered his gaze. It embarrassed him to be involved in a disagreement with a superior officer, however one-sided.
"Would you like to speak to the NCO, sir?" he offered, then was spared any further humiliation by the timely arrival of an even higher power.
"I'll handle this, son," Commodore Thornycroft told the clerk kindly before turning his attention on Sisko. "Ben! What brings you to Admin? I could hear you all the way over in my office."
"It's this message," Sisko said, turning it over with relief. "I found it in my mail when I got back to my quarters after breakfast."
Thornycroft studied it. "It's a course loading message. Two weeks, starting tomorrow."
"It's for leadership intro, level five," Sisko pointed out.
"Yes? And?"
The commodore's expression had turned completely neutral. Sisko shook his head, frustrated. "For god's sake, Dick," he exploded, "I took that course years ago!"
Thornycroft very carefully folded the message in half and handed it back.
"I'm sorry, Ben, there's nothing I can do about this."
"It's a mistake--"
"No it's not. Look--" He paused to move closer and lowered his voice. "Ben, look, this message originated with Command, so it's no error. Now, you're here at Headquarters for an additional two weeks regardless, or however long it takes the inquiry to wrap up Starfleet's end of things. Somebody obviously thinks your time'd be better spent in a classroom than hanging around moping and worrying."
"Who?" Sisko demanded. "Who thinks that?"
"I don't know. Probably Nechayev. She's commander in charge of your sector, isn't she?"
Sisko admitted that she was. Thornycroft waited and gave him a minute. At last, grumpily, he asked, "What should I do?"
"I guess I'd make sure I was in that classroom first thing tomorrow morning," Thornycroft said.
Sisko knew he'd be in for a fortnight of misery the moment he saw his classmates start arriving. None of them were of a rank higher than lieutenant commander. All of them, without exception, looked startled upon catching sight of him, nodded politely, then sought out seats near the front, far away from him. Sisko sighed and sank ever further into despondency. He was well aware of his forlorn status; the solitary captain, sitting alone.
But not for long. A brisk, taut man strode into the classroom. He spotted Ben, did a double-take, then came up smiling and slid into the seat next to Sisko's. He wore captain's pips and seemed intensely familiar. Even so, it took Sisko a moment to place him.
"Ben...Maxwell?" he exclaimed, in near disbelief.
"That's right." Maxwell grinned. His face, careworn and seamed, showed the hardships he'd endured, yet there was about him an air of great cheerfulness. Sisko didn't know what to say next. He could hardly ask, how was prison? as if inquiring after someone's last posting, yet that's where Maxwell had been--still was, Sisko had thought. To his dismay, he saw Maxwell start logging into the terminal on his desk. He evidently meant to stay right where he was.
"You're Ben Sisko, aren't you?" asked Maxwell. "Commander of DS9?"
Sisko nodded warily, although technically Maxwell was incorrect. The other officer--reinstated officer, Sisko reminded himself--nodded with satisfaction.
"I knew it. I've been following events out your way, expect I'll be out in your sector in another couple of months or so."
"You--will?"
"Sure! They've pardoned me, you know. They're even giving me back a ship." Maxwell stabbed at a control with huge satisfaction. "It's those damn Cardies! Never thought I'd owe them, but I do. Command knows I understand how to handle them, even if I did miscalculate politics a time or two in the past. And now that Cardassia's allied itself with the Dominion..." He drove a finger down again, as if already jabbing at a fire control toggle.
Sisko goggled at him. Maxwell had done more than miscalculate, he'd gone on a rampage, wielding his starship like a murderous scythe during his personal glory charge through Cardassian space. He couldn't begin to comprehend why such a man was being returned to active service. It was worse than Command's appointment of Commander Optimus. At least Optimus, mechanoid though he was, seemed a sort one could trust.
Maxwell was far too delighted to simply be part of Starfleet again to take any notice of Sisko's tacit disapproval of him or to respect his reserved silence. He looked at the other officers sitting in the classroom, seemed to observe their youth and rank for the first time, then leaned over towards Ben conspiratorially.
"We two old war horses ought to ace this refresher," he murmured with glee, and Sisko felt like hitting him.
Midway through Sisko's course, the board of inquiry investigating the ITU crash on Solosis Three absolved Starfleet of any wrongdoing and Sisko and the other military personnel who'd been called to testify found themselves freed from any further obligations. The inquiry was moved to a civilian court and resumed a day later and Sisko began hearing the facts of the negligence to which his gossipy friends had alluded. The vessel, Interstellar Trade Union registered, a regular traveller through the DMZ, should have been fitted with safety and emergency comm gear which it simply hadn't possessed for reasons yet unknown. The Cardassian colony on Solosis Three had never known of the crash on their world until far too late. Even worse, most of the casualties had died needlessly, choking to death on an atmosphere made lethal to their human physiology after the ship's crew had managed a very creditable emergency landing. A few hours of breathable canned air would have saved almost all of them. It was very sad. Sisko thought of his own wife's death as he listened and was glad that her passing had not been so drawn out in suffering, so pointless and vile.
This Sisko suffered in other ways, however. Maxwell clung to him, as like often clings to like, the only two captains taking classes intended to introduce new seniors to a whole new level of leadership. He persisted in regarding the entire two weeks as a refresher course and Sisko never once tried to argue otherwise. Sisko had closed his mind to Maxwell, the only way he could personally deal with him. He listened when he spoke, endured his company, worked willingly alongside him, but never with him, not in partnership as good officers were meant to work. If Maxwell was ever aware of Sisko's true feelings, he didn't care. He aced the course.
Ben Sisko also passed, of course, although with lower marks, and the instant he'd scribbled out a cursory course critique and borne the last instructors' last nauseating congratulatory recital, he'd bolted for his quarters and the hope of finding travel orders back to Deep Space Nine. But none were waiting. He knocked around his quarters until he was sure that all the routine traffic for the day was long sent, then sought refuge for the rest of the evening at an obscure holoshow in downtown San Francisco. The last thing he wanted to do was run into his celebrating course mates or, god forbid, Captain Maxwell.
His spirits lifted the moment he entered Admin the next morning. The same poor clerk he'd harangued before greeted him at once and escorted him to the AdminO's office.
"Ah! Benji! Excellent. I knew you'd show up." Thornycroft was in an expansive mood. He made a joke of Sisko's having passed his course, waved him to a more comfortable chair, and came out from behind his desk to share a morning coffee with him. Real coffee, not replicated. Sisko closed his eyes with pleasure as he inhaled the delectable aroma. Thornycroft offered him a small crystal dish full of sweets. "Here. Real chocolate, too. Goes great with the coffee."
"Thanks, but I'll take mine straight." He eyed his friend, a little suspiciously. "What is this, anyway? Showing off your Command perks?"
"No, just a half-assed toast. To your survival. Surviving the inquiry. Surviving the course. Surviving...Maxwell."
"He was the worst," Sisko intoned solemnly.
"Amen to that. I would've slugged him the first day." Thornycroft chuckled as he carefully replaced the lid on the dish of chocolates. Sisko watched him, a half-smile back on his own face.
"There is something going on," he said. "Dick..." The commodore abruptly laughed outright, an infectious laugh, full of good humour. "Out with it," Sisko urged.
"Oh hell, Ben, I can't keep this in any longer. Here. Read this. But mind that it's unofficial yet. Don't go blabbing it all over."
He handed Sisko an activated padd and sat back, smug and expectant. Sisko mulled over the message onscreen for a long moment. "What is this?" he asked.
"God, can you not read all of a sudden? They're putting you on your nines course, Benji. You're getting promoted; hell, you'll be acting come Monday, see the date?"
"Promoted!" Sisko gasped.
"Straight to commodore. Congratulations!"
Sisko didn't hear or acknowledge him. He lunged to his feet, stood there with his chest heaving, his mouth gaping. "What about DS9?" he cried.
"What about it? Let someone else handle it. Besides, it's not as if you're leaving the sector. I've heard that they're opening up a post for you on Bajor."
"Bajor!"
"Military attaché or some such. Pretty impressive. Way to go, Ben! You're on the first rung of the ladder."
Sisko was still panting with emotion, but the reality was starting to seep through. His expression turned wretched, guilt-stricken. "What did I do?"
Thornycroft regarded him with curiosity. "You didn't do anything. What's the matter with you, Ben? You've been working towards admiral your whole career. Don't you want that anymore?"
"Not like this!"
"Well, how then? You can't get promoted if you're going to stick in your heels and mark time." His tone grew cooler, a little annoyed. "It's a big opportunity for you. You'll be the sole Federation rep to an important system. You'll still be right in there, right on top of things."
"I just won't be running them!" Sisko snapped, and Thornycroft's eyes narrowed then and he drew down his imposing grey brows with angry deliberation.
"No," he said, "you won't. But you'll be protecting Federation interests just as surely as do your people aboard DS9. If you can't see that, if you believe otherwise, you belittle all of us who hold shore postings."
Sisko turned his face aside, unable to meet the commodore's cold stare. The worst of it was that Thornycroft was right, but it was a truth Sisko had long feared hearing. He hung his head, defeated and suffused with grief.
Commodore Thornycroft got up. He took one of Sisko's hands as if to shake it, placed his other on Ben's shoulder. "This is the way it is, Benji," he said quietly. "Now, what you're going to do is thank me for giving you this news. Tonight, we're going to get some of the gang together and celebrate. And then you're going to train for your new appointment and do the best job of it that you can. Because you're Starfleet, and that's how it's done. All right, Captain?"
Sisko shook Thornycroft's hand. "Yes, sir," he said.
Sisko, Thornycroft, Dawe, and several others of the old class, all that remained and could be gathered on short notice, celebrated Ben's impending promotion that evening at his father's restaurant. As he watched his father bustle about, so happy and proud, the years dropping away as he served out his best dishes, Ben was suddenly glad that he'd taken Dick Thornycroft's advice and began to look to his future with glum resignation.
But oh, how it still hurt inside!
Ben Sisko received his official promotion to commodore the following Monday. It was an acting commission, dependent upon his successful completion of his senior management course, but Sisko did not foresee any problems in that department. The stresses of administrating DS9 had already taught him much. He began his classes immediately and found them absorbing, even interesting, but not particularly hard. DS9 sent word that his quarters would he held for him until he returned to take up his appointment on Bajor and that was that end of it taken care of as well. He settled into the academic grind after several weeks. He lived in temporary quarters at Headquarters throughout the week and spent most of his weekend time with his father.
One Friday afternoon, just as the last class of the day was finishing up, a runner brought him the message to return home at his earliest convenience. Sisko, apprehensive, always mindful of his father's questionable health, transported as soon as he could arrange for a slot. What was waiting for him was a much pleasanter surprise than he'd anticipated.
"Jake!"
His son slouched forward into his embrace, as endearingly sweet and gangling as ever. "Hi, Dad," he said.
"Jake, why-- What are you doing here?" Whatever the reason, his heart already sang. He felt truly happy for the first time in a month.
Ben's own dad, standing to one side, was beaming with equal joy. "Jake's come home, home to stay," he crooned. He shuffled forward to slip his own arm about his grandson, almost as if he too could barely believe in his presence. "We're all together now," he concluded with satisfaction.
"You're staying?" Ben looked from one to the other of the two, the willowy youngster and the weathered, solid old man, standing protectively at his side. "What do you mean?"
"I decided to go to Pennington, Dad. So I've kinda--moved in."
"You've left DS9."
It was a statement, not a question, spoken with a certain wonder behind it. How often Ben had wished Jake in a safer place, away from the wormhole, yet he'd never quite mustered the cruel courage to order his son away. Now here he was, in the best of all places. Ben Sisko gazed at the two people he loved most in all the universe and felt better still.
"Why, that's wonderful, son. I'm glad." He remembered past incidents which had revealed the depth of Jake's dependence on him. "Guess it got kind of lonely with the Old Man gone, huh?"
"Yeah... Actually, a lot of civilians left. And then Optimus and I had this talk and he sort of convinced me I'd be better off here..."
"Optimus convinced you?"
That half-floored Sisko. In his own way, Jake had one of the most determined personalities he knew. It was never easy convincing Jake to do anything. "Well," he added," that was...good of him."
Jake shifted around and slumped, getting fidgety with so much loving attention focused on himself, and looked up shyly. "He's nice, Dad. Oh, and Kassidy's going to visit soon, too. She doesn't live on the station anymore either."
"I see," Sisko remarked. "It sounds as though Commander Optimus likes making changes."
"Well, it's the war. Um, the one they expect, I mean. They just don't want to be distracted."
"And I for one couldn't agree more," Ben's father said. He squeezed Jake with fierce affection. "When you go back to DS9," he said, addressing Ben, "I want you to thank this commander for me. Thank him for me for sending me my grandson."
Ben watched Jake trying to tactfully wriggle out of his grandfather's embrace. "I'll be sure to do that," he answered dryly.
* * * * *
Commodore Sisko returned to Deep Space Nine six months, three weeks and four days after he'd last bid the place farewell. Even before he docked, he could see the difference; there were ships everywhere, moored at the pylons or simply close by, and all of them were of military configuration. But Jadzia Dax hadn't changed. She met Ben at the airlock and hugged him with as much warmth as ever.
"Benjamin." She fingered the insignia at his neck. "I'm so proud of you...Commodore!"
Sisko had mostly reconciled with his fate. He shrugged off her congratulations without any real rancour.
"Thanks, Old Man. I understand that the station's seen some action while I was gone."
"Oh! Wait'll you see..."
They fell into step together as they walked, the same as always. Dax chattered happily, filling him in. There had indeed been an attack, Gul Dukat making good on his threat to retake the station for his own. What he hadn't bargained for was opposition from the Romulans. And the Cybertrons! Did Sisko know yet that one of their ships now patrolled the sector and that two more Cybertrons had been assigned to the station? And that Optimus was a veritable battle droid under that gorilla pelt of his? Sisko admitted that he knew the Cybertron had a robot mode, but not that it was meant for combat.
"You'll have to look at the logs later," Dax enthused. "There's some amazing footage. We caught Dukat's forces by complete surprise, Benjamin. Between the Klingons and the Romulans and our own people, we just thrashed them. We never even had a casualty aboard station, just some moderate damage and injuries."
"I saw two Klingon warbirds outside with the Fleet vessels. No Romulans, though."
"They only come when intelligence alerts us to the possibility of an attack." The Trill suddenly convulsed with giggles over some remembered amusement. "You should see the Romulans with Optimus, Benjamin. I think they're completely terrified of him. They never know how to behave or what to say to him."
"I suppose they haven't dealt with as many alien lifeforms as we have," Sisko guessed. He looked at her closely. "You're certainly in a light-hearted mood given recent events. I thought DS9 had become militant." He pronounced the final word with exaggerated severity and no small humour of his own and Dax responded with a flashing smile.
"You know me," she said. "I do so love uniforms. Seriously, it's not so regimented as all that. Having the Klingons here livens things up a lot. And all the Starfleet people now, it makes up for so many of the civilians leaving."
"I'll bet Quark didn't leave."
"Oh, Quark's in his element. The only decent bar on board and a captive military clientele. He probably hasn't done so well since the occupation, although he'd never admit to it. Do you want to go by Quark's, Benjamin? I know he'd enjoy seeing you. Optimus and most of the others are busy meeting with the Fleet captains and it'll be a while yet before anyone's free."
"All right. And then I'd better look over my old quarters. I still have to decide what to take with me to Bajor and what to leave here."
"Will you be back often? Optimus mentioned that you'd be checking in once a month."
"That's the plan at the moment," Sisko said, and left it at that.
Quark was indeed happy to see the former commander of DS9. He hurried over at once, dripping false bonhomie and servitude.
"Am I glad to see you!" he exclaimed to Sisko at once. "Please tell me you've come to relieve that Captain Hairball of yours."
"What's the matter, Quark?" Sisko asked, amused. "Don't you like Cybertrons?"
"Not that one. He's too smart, he's like some walking computer." Quark sneered down his crinkled nose to express his revulsion. "It's not fair, Captain, he remembers everything."
"Including your crime record?" Dax interjected, blinking innocently. "By the way, Ben is a commodore now."
"Oh, whatever. Captain, you have to do something about him. He's abusing his authority. Him and Odo, they come in here sometimes and just look at me. They're both shapeshifters, you know. It's disgusting the way they're always together, planning and plotting and--"
Dax broke in again before the Ferengi became completely immersed in his litany. "Quark, why don't you get us both a nice raktajino and then Ben and I will discuss the matter," she suggested in her sweetest tone, and the agitated barkeep, still muttering, allowed himself to be mollified and complied. As soon as he was out of earshot, Sisko dropped the serious act and shook his head.
"I see Quark hasn't changed. What's really going on?"
"Absolutely nothing, except that Optimus keeps a closer eye on him than he'd like. And he read him the riot act about keeping his nose clean when Command first sent in the Fleet and appointed us home port. Optimus tolerates a lot, but not when it's illegal."
"That must have made the constable happy," Sisko mused aloud.
"Utterly," Dax confirmed, and they both paused to savour their brews.
A small knot of Klingon soldiers came into the bar. Sisko passively watched them go by, then almost choked as he caught sight of an arresting mechanoid head towering over the rest. It was helmeted and the exposed visage, bright blue and glossy, was only roughly humanoid, but it turned towards Dax nonetheless as the group passed and the sculpted mouth moved to produce a faint, recognizable smile. Dax continued sipping her drink as she waved her fingers flirtatiously at the being.
"My god," Sisko breathed. "Is that one of the other Cybertrons?"
"Yes, that's his robot mode. He's a warrior. The Klingons adore him. Isn't he gorgeous?"
"You're kidding."
"He can transform into an animal form too, a carnosaur." Her manner went from teasing to downright wicked. "He lets me ride him."
"You're not kidding."
Sisko stared at the Trill and felt all the old feelings that bubbled up whenever his old friend engaged in something outrageous. It spilled over and he laughed, out loud. The Cybertron still standing by the bar amongst his comrades heard him with what was no doubt some enormously enhanced audio sense and looked at him over the heads of the Klingons; and Sisko swore that he could detect a trace of suspicion on the metal face, as though he were being perceived as some rival for Jadzia's affections. The thought of it broke him up completely and he laughed and laughed. It was too loony. He laughed because of the sheer absurdity of the notion, because he was strung tight and needed the release, and because every time he tried to stop, Dax would waggle her expressive eyebrows suggestively at him, which set him off all over again. And most of all he laughed for the sheer relief of it, because he now knew that he could come back to the station which had been taken from him and accept its loss well enough that his visits would bring him more pleasure than pain. He had dreaded that pain, yet it was proving tolerable. Sisko wondered if he were growing into his rank after all, as Thornycroft had said he would.
Later, he went up to ops and touched bases with more of his old staff. Worf, more unyielding than ever in his new role as executive officer, his full commander's insignia still gleaming pristine bright, greeted him perfunctorily. Kira was a light colonel now, her duties shifted more into the domain of the liaison-diplomat. O'Brien had finally, deservedly, been commissioned from the ranks. They were surprising discoveries, yet logical ones. Deep Space Nine's own role and importance had expanded in recent months and the burdens on its personnel had multiplied as well. Not that anybody appeared to mind. Sisko watched closely, but could detect no signs of negativity or reluctance in any of them. They were a happy crew.
The last two people Optimus had still been busy with left the Cybertron's office and stopped briefly to speak with Sisko. One, the commander of the Klingon forces, General Martok, was looking better than Sisko remembered and Ben was glad for him. The other man turned out to be one Edward Jellico, the most senior of the Federation starship captains attached to DS9; Sisko knew him by reputation only and thought that he came across as a good sort for the job, if a trifle stern. And then it was time for Sisko to finally see Optimus and he drew in a deep breath as he mounted the steps to his former office.
Optimus was still wearing his gorilla guise. The sight of it threw Sisko all over again. It so looked like the real animal sitting there behind his desk for those initial few seconds, then one saw the human-like eyes, all wrong for the species, and then the intelligent awareness. And when he stood up and came forward, smiling, as he did now, any last reservations faded.
The Cybertron was happy to see him. He apologized for not having been able to greet Sisko upon his arrival and invited him to have a coffee. Sisko watched bemused as he ordered his own heavily sugared mugful, then began to drink it.
"I'm afraid Nerys and Jadzia have been addicting me to all sorts of items in your replicators," he confessed, noticing Sisko's interest. "Well, it is one of the pleasures associated with maintaining this mode. And it does save on fuel cells." He further noticed that Sisko's gaze had shifted and glanced himself at his own right wrist, encircled now by a band of cloth studded with four pips. "Yes, it seems that I got promoted along with everyone else. Fleet captain now. Rather silly, really. Ed Jellico's the one really running the Fleet. Still, you people do seem to have this need for a structured rank system. I suppose I should be calling you 'sir'."
"It doesn't matter," Sisko said dully.
"Good. As I said before, I don't much care for honorifics."
He next asked after Jake and pressed gently for details on how Sisko had made out on his long course, and Ben found himself telling the Cybertron everything. Optimus then told of the events that had transpired over his own recent past and related what he knew of the current conditions and political mood on Bajor and in the sector in general. Sisko listened to the voice go on, calm, reassuring, casual of tone, inviting familiarity, yet at the same time crisp and commanding; and at that moment all of Sisko's remaining anger and resentment withered and slunk away. He could never compete with Optimus, and Optimus would never understand. The palette of the emotions he'd been programmed with was incomplete, omitted feelings deemed unwanted or unnecessary, left him devoid of ego, of any need for ostentation. Even the animal he imitated was more human, for a real gorilla could be overthrown by a pitiless young rival vying for troop leadership, and then what would the dispossessed feel? Sisko looked deep into the brown faux eyes, made unnaturally bright by the faint luminosity of the workings within, and what he saw only shamed him.
The Cybertron had never seemed more alien.
* * * * *
Commodore Benjamin Sisko began his work on Bajor. Ministers and vedeks peopled his days now and he became used to treading carpeted hallways instead of metal decks. He learned to conduct meetings, not briefings, and to accept the reverence due him as the honoured Emissary. The Bajorans were good people and they were kind to him and appreciative of his presence. The rhythms of his life took on a slower tempo.
He lived in a beautiful villa surrounded by peaceful gardens. At night, no lights shone except those in the sky, and he would go outside and look up, trying to identify the alien constellations. One star in particular always drew him, a star said to represent the single tear shed by a great hero of legend as he abandoned his family for the duties of war, a tear long frozen into glittering rime feathers. Sisko liked looking at this star, and imagining its fanciful creation. And sometimes, although he knew it was impossible, he would pretend that the star was Deep Space Nine.
---END---
