After letting this fic languish for over a year, I've decided to rewrite what I had and take it in a somewhat different direction than I had originally planned. I've fixed a few continuity errors, as well. This story will update irregularly and probably infrequently, but it's back in active progress!

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: 'It might have been.'" –John Greenleaf Whittier

The Saddest Are These

Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole

The wormhole sparked and flared as it burst open, jagged blue arcs tearing the normally graceful swirls of energy into tattered shreds. It seemed to choke, to cough, and finally spit out a ship that looked like it had been through a war.

"Magnify."

The vessel was like none other Captain Benjamin Sisko had ever seen. Sleek and slender, she had four large engines held away from her sides on thick struts, giving her a roughly triangular shape. Perhaps the length of the Defiant and far narrower, she was smaller than most Federation ships of the line, but those engines looked powerful. The hull was scarred, possibly ruptured in places, and one of the engines sputtered feebly. The rest were dark. The ship limped along on little more than momentum, leaking plasma from her ventral hull, all but dead in space.

Jadzia Dax spoke up from the science station, her puzzled gaze focused on the console in front of her. "Benjamin, I'm getting some very strange readings here."

"Anything dangerous?"

"I don't think so, sir. Just… strange." Dax frowned. "I'm reading life signs, but can't get a clear enough scan to identify them. The ship's design doesn't match anything in our database, and the energy signature from its warp drive is… well, it's definitely capable of faster-than-light travel. But, Benjamin," she said, looking up at him with wide eyes, "I don't think it's a warp drive. It's a technology I've never seen before."

First contact. Sisko took a deep, steadying breath. Meeting a new species was always a simultaneously exciting and nerve-wracking prospect, especially under circumstances such as these. "Hail them," he ordered.

"Actually, they're hailing us," Dax reported. "Audio only."

"Open a channel." Sisko subconsciously smoothed his uniform anyway. "Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Benjamin Sisko of the Federation starbase Deep Space Nine. Do you need assistance?"

The comm channel crackled with static, nearly obliterating the pilot's startled-sounding response. "—ace Nine, this is… —SV Normandy… —tems Alli… —esting vector and berth… —emergency rep…"

Normandy? Sisko was momentarily stunned. Surely this ship hadn't come from Earth. As with any unfamiliar vessel emerging unexpectedly from the wormhole, he had assumed it had originated in the Gamma Quadrant. Of course, the audio connection was poor—it was more likely his brain piecing together barely intelligible syllables and trying to supply something familiar.

But as the distressed ship's drift brought her port side into full view, her name became visible, drawing startled gasps from all over Ops. Normandy indeed, unmistakably emblazoned in Latin letters along half the length of the hull.

"Deep… —ine, do… —py? Our life support… –tems are fai… –mediate assistance!"

Questions of the Normandy's origins could wait. "We read you, Normandy. Stand by for docking instructions." Sisko gave Dax a short, sharp nod; she nodded back and began transmitting. "Engineering and medical teams will meet you in the docking bay."

The airlock door rolled open, releasing a cloud of acrid smoke and a crowd of people, stumbling and coughing as DS9's medical and security personnel assisted the evacuation. Though it was hard to see through the haze, Sisko thought the people looked more humanoid than most denizens of the Gamma Quadrant—in fact, he saw no one at first who stood out as not human. Curiouser and curiouser.

The last three to evacuate came out together. Two were very clearly aliens, neither of whose species Sisko recognized. One was tall and lanky, vaguely avian-looking, with pale gray skin that looked almost as tough as the armor he wore and horrific scars on one side of his face. The other was more humanoid, though blue-skinned, with stiff tentacles on her head instead of hair. Between them, leaning on them for support, was a woman who wore what looked like a military dress uniform, though not for a service Sisko was familiar with.

But she was definitely human.

Swallowing his continued surprise for the moment, Sisko addressed them as engineering and more medical teams raced by to put out fires and assist any remaining crew's evacuation. "Welcome to Deep Space Nine. I'm Captain Benjamin Sisko, and this is Doctor Julian Bashir. He'll see to your wounded."

With some effort, the human woman drew herself up straight and saluted him. "Captain," she croaked, slurring the word slightly, and Sisko suddenly saw where her dark hair was matted with blood. "Commander Morgan Shepard, Alliance Navy. This is Garrus Vakarian and Liara T'Soni. Thank you for… your…" her voice trailed off as her face went white and her knees buckled. Barely conscious, she staggered against her avian crewmate—Vakarian—clutching his arm to remain upright.

Doctor Bashir stepped forward. "All right, the formalities can wait, Commander. Let's get you to the infirmary."

Shepard shook her head. "My crew…"

"They'll be taken care of, too, don't you worry," Bashir reassured her.

Vakarian, who had been watching this anxiously, now spoke up. "Captain Sisko, if it's all right with you, I'd like to accompany the commander." His voice had an odd, but oddly expressive, dual tone that would have taken Sisko by surprise were his head not already reeling from the sheer number of questions the Normandy's appearance had raised. "And our doctor, Karin Chakwas, is still somewhere on the ship. There were fires in the med bay, and I didn't see her by the airlock. If your people can find her…"

The captain nodded. "Go, Mr. Vakarian. We'll find Dr. Chakwas and anyone else who may be trapped aboard."

"Physically, most of them are fine, sir. Scrapes, bruises, some minor burns and few severe cases of smoke inhalation. Four crewmen are of species I've never seen before, and two of those have rather unique biochemistry that—"

"The short version, please, Doctor."

The set of Bashir's face was grim. "Frankly, sir, there's something about Commander Shepard that has me concerned."

"Will she make it?"

Bashir nodded once. "Absolutely. Just a concussion and a small laceration. She'll be waking up any minute. But look at this!" He gestured to one of the monitors in astonishment.

Sisko frowned at the image. "Am I looking at the inside of a person or a computer?"

"Exactly. She has so many cybernetic implants, it's as though they're literally holding her together. They're woven into her bones, her organs, her muscles, her skin—many parts have been outright replaced!" He fixed the captain with a wide-eyed stare. "I've never seen cybernetics this extensive outside of…"

Sisko's breath caught in his throat. "The Borg."

"But it's not like any Borg technology I've ever seen," Bashir continued. "There's nothing visible on the surface, and no evidence of any… unnatural additions, aside from enhancements to muscular strength and tissue regeneration. There are no nanites in her blood. She wasn't assimilated, sir. She was rebuilt."

Before Sisko could question him further, Vakarian's dual-toned voice rang out from the next room. "Doctor! She's waking up!"

It was finally time for some answers.

Morgan Shepard opened her eyes with a moan. She felt heavy and weak, and struggled to remember where she was and how she got here.

She heard Garrus shout something, then his scarred face floated into view. "Easy, Shepard," he murmured. "You took a bad hit to the head. Doctor Bashir got you all patched up, and he says you'll be fine." His subvocals, she realized as her head cleared enough to pay attention, betrayed relief anyway.

"Doctor… who?" she groaned, struggling to sit up. "Where are we, Garrus? Where's Doctor Chakwas? Is the crew…?"

"Your crew is just fine, Commander," came a smooth, gentle voice. Shepard looked up to see two men enter the ward: one curly-haired and slender with blue shoulders on his jacket; the other bald, broader, and wearing red. It was the man in blue who'd spoken. "You were the only one seriously injured. Dr. Chakwas is on the Promenade getting something to eat, I believe. Most everyone else is making repairs on the Normandy. But Garrus here hasn't left your side."

Shepard nodded, a little surprised when the motion didn't produce the wave of dizziness she'd belatedly expected. "Thanks, Doctor." She turned to the other man as memory began to sluggishly return. "Captain… Sisko?"

The captain smiled kindly. "That's right. I'm sure you have plenty more questions, Commander—I certainly have some for you, if you feel up to it."

Shepard sat up straighter and swung her legs off the side of the bed. She was feeling better by the minute, actually. She didn't know what kind of medical technology these people had, but she hoped she could get a hold of it for the Normandy. "You bet I have questions, sir. Starting with, what is this place? Your technology, your uniform—I don't recognize any of it. You're human… but not Alliance."

Sisko sat on another bed, facing her, as Garrus turned away from their conversation to speak with Joker on the comm. Keeping this informal, then. "To be honest with you, Commander," he said, "I don't know anything about this Alliance of yours. Deep Space Nine is a Starfleet outpost belonging to the United Federation of Planets, headquartered on Earth."

"The United… Earth, sir?" Shepard shook her head, confused. "The Systems Alliance is headquartered on Earth. It encompasses all human territories from the Terminus to the Traverse to Citadel space. I've never heard of the Federation. Or Starfleet."

The two commanders stared at each other in bewilderment, neither understanding the other.

It was Garrus who broke the silence. "Excuse me, Captain Sisko," he said hesitantly, "but our pilot was just looking at his star charts, and he wants me to ask you… what year it is."

"What year?" Sisko frowned. "By Earth standard, it's 2372. Why?"

There went the dizziness. "We're two hundred years in the future," Shepard breathed.

Now it was Garrus's turn to stare. "We're what?"

Shepard kept her eyes locked on Sisko. "Captain, as far as my crew and I were aware, it's 2185. We came from the height of the Reaper War." Her jaw dropped as the implications dawned on her. "And if you're here, now, that means… that means we won!"

Sisko and Bashir looked from her to each other, utterly uncomprehending. "The Mirror Universe?" the doctor asked quietly. The tone of his voice made it a proper name, something this crew had experienced before. The tension on his face implied the experience had not been pleasant.

"Not the same one," Sisko replied. He turned back to Shepard. "Another one."

The room was most definitely spinning now. If that was true, she and her crew were farther from home than she'd imagined. Farther than should ever have been possible. "Are you saying we're in some kind of… alternate reality?" she demanded. "And you've had contact with others before?"

"I'm afraid so, Commander," Sisko replied grimly.

"Then… you know how to get us home."

The captain shook his head, dousing the spark of hope before it could light. "It's not that simple."

"Of course not," Garrus muttered darkly, echoing her own thoughts. "It can never be that simple."

Shepard shot him a warning look, then asked Sisko, "So, what's our next step, then?"

Sisko stood, and Shepard hopped down off the bed as well. "First, your senior staff and mine should meet and try to find some common ground so we can all understand one another. Then I think we should have our science teams knock heads and see what they come up with."

Shepard couldn't help but smile a little—she liked Sisko already. He reminded her a lot of Anderson. "Agreed."

"I'd also like to volunteer my engineering staff to assist with repairs to the Normandy where they can," Sisko continued. "In the meantime, you and your crew are welcome to make use of the Promenade—if you're coming from a war zone, a little shore leave may do your people some good. May as well make the most of the situation."

"Thank you, Captain. I think we'll take you up on all of that." Shepard reached out to shake Sisko's hand. "Dr. Liara T'Soni is my lead scientist; who should I have her reach out to?"

"That would be me," came a voice from the doorway. Shepard turned to see a woman there, apparently human, with strange markings tattooed down either side of her face, smiling warmly. "Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax," she said by way of introduction. "I've already been in touch with Liara over comm, and we've started to hash out some theories. I'm looking forward to meeting her in person."

Shepard shook her proffered hand as well. "There's more to Liara than meets the eye."

Dax's eyes twinkled. "Then I think we'll get along just fine."