Chapter 3: Under the Dominion's Wing

Benjamin Sisko was tossed back into his cell, hitting the floor hard. Slowly he looked up, and what he saw made him shudder. Jadzia Dax, his lover, had been literally torn apart, limb by limb. The arms and legs and head were laid on her torso, the blood a pool that had drenched over most of the floor. Doctor Bashir's face was in his hands, crying. And in a corner, Miles O'Brian held Commander Kira, who was sitting in a state of shock.

He couldn't help them. Not in here, imprisoned like this. They would have to escape. And soon, or else they would all die. That had been made very clear to him.

"I'm sorry, Chief," he said, slowly pushing himself off the floor, "But we need you to finish those last details."

O'Brian looked slowly at him, brought out of his daze and nodded. He slowly moved back into the small space behind the wall and continued working on the relays. He wished he could console their worries, but he couldn't.

"I am sorry that you've all been stuck in here," he said, looking at the two remaining people, "But we can't allow them to break us. We simply can't."

"I just…" Bashir said, his voice shaking as he raised his head from his hands, the light glistening off the trail of tears, "Don't know how you aren't affected. Didn't you love her?"

"Of course I did," Sisko agreed, "But I can't afford myself grief. A time will come for that. But not now. Now….we have to escape."

"Haven't you got the ships ready yet?" a tall blond haired female Vorta called Minosk asked, striding into the command center of the Dominion's military forces, "They need those reinforcements in the Alpha Quadrant."

"We will get there once everything is in place," Gam'alak said, standing taller then most of his Jem'Hadar brothers. He was an Honored Elder, who had served with such distinction that they'd given him the opportunity to become the First Alpha of the Dominion. Basically he was the military commander, subject only to the orders of the Founders.

"We've been ordered by the Founders to get as many forces there as possible as soon as possible," Minosk reminded him, "Or have you forgotten that?"

"I have not forgotten," he replied, glaring at the Vorta, "But I will not waste their soldiers in a futile battle. We must be prepared to make the sacrifice of those who will die worthwhile by giving them the most amount of troops possible."

"Do you really expect the Terran Empire to give us that much trouble?" she balked, "You forget, we drove them out of the Bajoran system with little to no damage."

"And yet," Gam'alak retorted, "They have retaken back the Bajoran system. They've adapted to our ways and we need to do the same or we shall walk into a bloodbath."

Minosk glared at him for a few seconds. But, she quailed underneath his own return glare, and turning on her feet strode out. Gam'alak took pride in his victory, though it was a small one.

"I do hope you prove your worth!" she shouted back, "Or I will replace you."


The Female Changeling had no name, but sometimes she wished she did. There were millions of changelings, including a hundred that had been sent here into the Alpha Quadrant nearly five decades ago. While she loved the adoration of her people, she really wished they could call her something besides "Founder."

No, what was making her so depressed? The war's progress? No…no. Couldn't be that. She had personally chosen Gam'alak as First Alpha. And despite these setbacks in recent months, she had no fear of the final outcome. Was it the failed experiments with ketrecel white? There was a problem with some of it getting tainted. But no, the Sona were providing them with enough to last them for several more months.

No…..what was it? It must have been the Great Link. She was missing it. She hadn't been able to link with anyone for roughly seven months, ever since the war had started. That had to be it.

"Founder?" a familiar voice said behind her, "Can I get you anything?"

"Weyoun," she rolled her eyes, not turning to him, "What are you doing here?"

Weyoun 6 bowed his head slightly to her. "I am sorry," he said humbly and repentant, "But I have noticed you have been despondent as of late. I would like to help you if I could."

"No," she shook her head, "I have no need for your solid pity."

Weyoun stepped backwards but she held up her hand. "Is there not a changeling in the Klingon territories?" she asked, continuing to look up at the large Romulan Warbird symbol overlaid by the Terran Imperial emblem.

Weyoun hesitated for a second as he thought. "Yes," he said, "There is a Founder with them. Would you like me to contact him?"

Contact? How little Weyoun understood the meaning of true contact. He could never understand the complete wholeness that came from the Great Link. She had forced two Romulans to have sexual intercourse in front of her, to see what it was like for solids. What she had seen had been intriguing to say the least. But, it had been a mere shadow.

"Yes," she said, "Tell him I need a conference with him. Face to face."

"Yes Founder," he bowed his head, then turning headed off to complete her commands.