Captain's log: Stardate 59802.2.

After securing Doctor Bashir within a modified containment filed in the Defiant's sickbay, we are heading deep into Dominion space in search of the Changelings' homeworld. With the cloaking device deactivated, our plan is to attract the attention of Jem'Hadar patrol ships by sending out a distress signal. We want to convince them to lead us to Odo and the other Changelings who may have the cure for the Teplan Blight.

"I'm a little surprised Garak didn't come with us," O'Brien said, pushing several buttons on his console. "I thought he'd like to keep Julian company while we look for the Changelings".

Sisko shrugged, though, he was also baffled by Garak's decision not to join them on their rescue mission. "He said he had an urgent matter to take care of".

"Huh," O'Brien grunted in response. Whatever Garak's reason to stay behind was, it must have been something serious that couldn't wait. After all, wasn't Bashir's imminent death an urgent matter?

Dax glanced at the screen in front of her and shook her head resignedly. "So far, no sign of the Jem'Hadar. It's been six hours, Benjamin, I'm starting to get a little nervous."

Sisko was feeling a bit anxious himself but for the sake of his crew, his demeanor was calm and confident. "Don't worry, Old Man. They're coming".

"An uncloaked Defiant-class starship rummaging through the Gamma Quadrant is bound to draw some attention," Miles added. "I expect the welcoming party to show up any minute now".

"Let's just hope they'll give us a warm welcome," Dax remarked, a hint of worry evident in her voice.

"Sure they will. The Jem'Hadar are known for their hospitality in the entire quadrant," Miles joked, more to alleviate the tension on the bridge than to express genuine amusement. There was nothing funny about their situation: Bashir was slowly dying in their sickbay and the Jem'Hadar were quite unpredictable those days since their dependence on Ketracel-white was no longer an issue.

Getting up from his seat, Miles tiredly stretched his arms then turned to Sisko. "Captain, I'd like to check up on Julian if that's alright with you?"

Sisko nodded his head in approval. "Go right ahead, Chief".


Bashir carefully rolled to his side on the biobed. He was half asleep but alert enough to hear the beat of approaching footsteps. His breathing was slow and steady yet with each intake of air he felt a dull pang of pain strike his lungs.

Miles quietly entered the sickbay and ran a short diagnostic on the containment field. Satisfied with the readings, he took a seat by Julian's bed and contemplated his best friend's condition. He was used to seeing Julian in the role of a doctor, not the patient. It wasn't right. In some twisted sense of irony, their healer found himself in dire need of healing with the Quickening thirstily devouring whatever life energy he had left.

Miles smirked sadly to himself and shook his head, recalling the time they first met. He didn't like Julian back then. Couldn't stand him. He thought the young doctor was too arrogant, too full of himself, too eager to please. On top of that, he had the infuriating habit of prattling on about nonsense whenever he felt nervous or excited about something. Bashir just didn't know when to shut up. Yes, Miles used to hate the man. But seeing him at that moment – so weak and vulnerable, so disturbingly silent – made him wish Julian had chattered away about preganglionic fibers and postganglionic nerves for the rest of their journey.

They really came a long way as friends. Perhaps Keiko was right? He'd never admit it but sometimes Miles did like Julian a bit more than his own wife. Still, O'Brien was angry at himself. He felt that he let his best friend down. He should have contacted him more often. He should have known something horrible had happened when Julian unexpectedly retired from Starfleet. But beating himself up wasn't going to help anybody. The way things were going, he could only hope that Odo would somehow put an end to that nightmare.

Bashir's eyelids fluttered until his blurry vision cleared. Gazing at the Irishman, he gave him a small wave, careful not to touch the invisible force field that separated them.

"Hi, Miles," Julian said, his tired voice barely above a whisper.

O'Brien put on a faint smile in a futile attempt to console him. Admittedly, Julian grew a little tired of people plastering on fake grins in front of him, even if they did it with the best intentions. He couldn't blame them, though. As a doctor, he'd mastered about a dozen of reassuring facial expressions for the sake of his suffering patients. The worse the condition, the wider the smile. He briefly wondered if they found these forced grimaces as tiresome as he did.

"How are you feeling, Julian?"

"Been better," Bashir answered then his gaze briefly swept the room. "Where's Tobian?"

"He's asleep in his quarters. Ensign Tellora's with him".

Julian nodded slightly in acknowledgment, happy that his little boy finally got some much needed rest.

"How's Keiko and the kids?"

"Great," O'Briend replied. "Keiko and I are moving back to DS9. I'm pretty excited about it, actually".

Bashir had a doubtful look on his face. "Does Keiko share your enthusiasm?"

Inclining his head in mock defeat, Miles smirked – genuinely that time. "She'll come around... eventually... I hope".

Amused by his response, Julian tried to laugh but that only brought yet another outburst of coughing.

Calming his breath a little, he turned to O'Brien again, his expression serious.

"Miles, I have a big favor to ask," he quietly said, prompting the other man to lean in closer. "If I don't make it..."

"You will make it, Julian," Miles cut in, his tone almost commanding.

"But if I don't," Bashir continued, "I want you to take care of Tobian. Maybe take him back to Earth? Find him a loving home… a new family. Can you do that for me?"

O'Brien wished he could take Julian's hand into his in a gesture of comfort, but the force field made it impossible. Instead, he simply looked him in the eyes and said, "Julian, if... if our plan doesn't work, then I give you my word, me and Keiko will be Tobian's new family. Hell, you two already are family as far as I'm concerned".

"Thank you, Chief," Julian replied and smiled warmly.

"But I want you to promise me something in return," O'Brien said. "Don't give up hope just yet. If not for your own sake, then for the sake of your son. We haven't given up on you, Julian, and neither should you".

Before he could say anything else, the Defiant shook violently and the lights in the sickbay turned red just as the alarm went off. The containment field surrounding Bashir flickered a few times but quickly stabilized itself. The two friends exchanged shocked looks.

"What the..." Miles said, hastily getting up from his seat. He almost lost his footing as the ship quivered again with more shockwaves. "I need to get back to the bridge!" he exclaimed, adrenaline kicking in. "Hold on, Julian!".


Charging through the corridors engulfed in smoke and steam emitted from the fire extinguishers, O'Brien passed a group of rushing officers and finally reached the bridge.

"What's going on?" he asked, hurrying to his post.

"Three Jem'Hadar ships are firing on us!" Dax yelled back.

"Hail them," Sisko commanded.

"They're not responding," the Trill replied and the Defiant shook again as it took more disruptor blasts.

"Not the kind of warm welcome I was hoping for," Miles muttered to himself then checked his monitor and turned to Sisko, "shields are down to 60%".

"Activate the cloaking device!"

Worf pressed a few buttons on his display panel. "The cloaking device has been damaged," he announced.

Sisko swore under his breath. "Evasive maneuvers!" he called out.

The Defiant rapidly changed its course. Using its superior agility, it swirled around the attacking ships whilst swiftly dodging their photon torpedoes.

"We can't play cat and mouse forever," Miles said.

Sisko stood up from his chair. "You're right, Chief. They want a fight, let's give them one".

Maneuvering their ship over the Jem'Hadar fighters, the crew was given orders to fire at will. The Defiant released several long-range blasts, stinging the enemy like a furious mosquito. After a few series of shots, it finally managed to penetrate the shields of the first Jem'Hadar fighter and blow a hole right through it.

Nog's smirk grew wide as the other ship blew into pieces. "One down, two to go!"

Dax didn't share his excitement. "Captain, I'm reading more Jem'Hadar warp signatures heading our way!"

As soon as she uttered those words, three insectoid-looking battleships appeared on their screen. Sisko and his crew mentally braced themselves for a full-on assault of phaser blasts.

Five against one... we're doomed, the Ferengi thought but decided against loudly verbalizing his defeatist attitude.

Much to everyone's surprise, the approaching ships did not fire on the Defiant. Instead, they turned against the other two Jem'Hadar fighters, bombarding them violently with quantum torpedoes. It only took them a few minutes to destroy the first ship, then their attention focused on the other.

"I can't believe it," Nog exclaimed, both ecstatic and shocked, "they're helping us!"

Sisko decided to take advantage of the situation and ordered his men to fire at the last hostile battleship. Combining forces with the other Dominion ships, it didn't take long before they turned their enemy into space dust.

Sitting back down in the Captain's chair, Sisko let out a breath of relief. "Well, that was... unexpected".

"They're hailing us," Dax announced, still confused by the sudden turn of events.

Upon activating the transmission, Sisko and his crew were shocked to see the all-too-familiar face of an infamous Vorta diplomat on the main screen.

"Captain Sisko," Weyoun said cheerfully with a sycophantic smile, "I am thrilled that the rumors about your return turned out to be true".

Narrowing his eyes, Sisko didn't even try to hide his annoyance at having to deal with the irritating, little pest. "And I am less thrilled that the reports of your death turned out to be greatly exaggerated".

Weyoun chuckled at his comment but it was hard to tell whether his mirth was a genuine response or a carefully studied act that he used to mask his displeasure.

"Oh, how delightful! I've really missed our witty banter," he replied, seemingly unfazed by Sisko's cutting remark. "True, my noble predecessor, Weyoun 8, was the last clone of his line, brutally killed during the war. However, in their wisdom, the Founders used his DNA sample to recreate a new line of Weyouns. I am Weyoun 9".

Sisko stood up from his chair and clasped his hands behind his back. He gave the Vorta a stern, disapproving glare. "Why was my ship attacked? This is a violation of the peace treaty between the Dominion and the Federation".

"You were attacked by an independent group of Jem'Hadar renegades," Weyoun calmly replied, "the Dominion neither authorizes nor approves of their rebellious acts". Glancing briefly at his console, he added, "I see you are sending out a distress signal. Do you require medical assistance?"

"I want to speak to Odo," Sisko replied, his rigid stance betraying his impatience.

Weyoun's bright-blue eyes widened in surprise but his face remained impassive. "Odo is in the Great Link. The Founders do not wish to be disturbed".

"They'll have to make an exception," Sisko said angrily. "This is a matter of life and death. Doctor Bashir has been infected by the Quickening and he doesn't have much time left. And since he once risked his own life to find the cure for the Changelings' disease, I believe your beloved Founders owe him a debt of gratitude. Now, if you don't lead me to them, and our doctor dies, I will hold you personally responsible for…"

"Captain," Weyoun cut in, nodding his head in deference, "considering the circumstances, I will lead you to the Founders' planet. Please, lower your shields so we can beam onboard your ship".

Worf glanced unsurely at his Captain but Sisko silently urged him to comply with Weyoun's request. A moment later, the Vorta diplomat and two Jem'Hadar guards materialized on their bridge.

"I believe you know the procedure," Weyoun said, holding out a small device designed to block the ship's navigation system. He gave it to one of his guards who installed it at the helm, effectively preventing their computers from recording the coordinates of the Changelings' homeworld.

Nog cautiously stepped aside, allowing the Jem'Hadar soldier to take his place as the pilot. O'Brien, Dax and Worf were also asked to temporarily leave their stations.

Miles approached his Klingon colleague and discreetly pointed at a Jem'Hadar. "Noticed anything funny about them?" he whispered.

Worf's expression was blank, silently urging O'Brien to explain what he meant.

"Look at their necks," Miles said under his breath, "there's no tube for the white".

"Indeed," Worf murmured in response.

Weyoun's sensitive ears immediately picked up their conversation. "This is a new generation of Jem'Hadar, completely free of Ketracel-white," he explained, ignoring their disgruntled expressions. "Courtesy of Odo".

Sisko smiled to himself, happy that his old friend had been able to convince the other Shapeshifters to change their approach towards their subordinate races. That, of course, led some of the Jem'Hadar to rebel against them, their loyalty no longer assured by their addiction to the drug. He wondered what other changes occurred in the Dominion's complicated socio-political landscape. Were the Vorta altered in any way as well? How was the Dominion coping with the new developments?

Sisko stole a glance at Weyoun, who stood proudly with his hands clasped behind his back. Nope – no visible changes there, he thought, somewhat disappointed.

They spent the rest of their journey in complete silence. Several hours later, the Defiant finally reached its destination.

Weyoun approached Sisko and smiled warmly. "We're here," he announced. "Please, wait". He then motioned for the Jem'Hadar to beam him down to the Changelings' homeworld.

They all waited in silent anticipation. About half an hour later, two figures rematerialized on the bridge – one of them was Weyoun, the other, to their relief, was Odo.

"Constable!" Sisko greeted the Shapeshifter, deliberately using his affectionate nickname.

Odo barked a short laugh. "I haven't been called that in a long time," he said, shaking Sisko's hand. "It's good to see all of you again," he added, though, he was secretly disappointed that Kira wasn't there. After exchanging greetings with the crew, Odo turned to the matter at hand. "Weyoun tells me Doctor Bashir is gravely ill".

"That's right, " Sisko confirmed, "and you're the only one who can help him now".

"Get him ready" Odo said, "we have no time to lose".

Ezri placed her hand on Odo's shoulder, her eyes reflecting both worry and hopefulness. "Good luck," she quietly said then left the bridge to prepare Julian for transport.


The Founders' homeworld was a silent place, consisting merely of a small rocky area and an endless sea of Changelings in their liquid state. The peaceful atmosphere was only interrupted by the hum of a transporter beam as Odo, Sisko and Bashir materialized on the planet's shore. Julian could barely stand at that point so he leaned heavily on Sisko's shoulder for support. Feeling another bolt of agonizing pain jolting through his body, the doctor instinctively clutched his hands and hissed through his teeth.

Sisko and Odo gently lay him down on the ground, watching in horror as their friend struggled to catch his breath.

"Hang in there Julian," Sisko whispered, wiping away the wet strands of hair from the younger man's forehead.

Bashir couldn't hear his reassuring words as he drifted in and out of consciousness. It was harder and harder for him to breathe, harder to stay awake, harder to maintain the fleeing spark of life… But he had to fight. He made a promise. He gave Miles his word… not to give up…for his son…

After exchanging urgent glances, Sisko and Odo carefully undressed Bashir and were subsequently taken aback by the extent of inflamed welts and lesions on his body. The Changeling felt a wave of guilt wash over him as the sight of Julian's injuries shook him to his core. His people did this. Section 31 might have infected the good doctor but the Founders created the deadly disease, causing millions of innocent people to suffer the way Bashir did.

"Odo, help me carry him," Sisko said, shaking him out of his trancelike state. But as they reached out to lift Bashir off the ground, the doctor held his hand up to stop them.

"No… need to… do it on my own…" Julian mumbled between heavy breaths then, propelled more by willpower than by actual strength, he slowly stood up.

Taking small, shaky steps towards the Great Link, he allowed Odo to take his hand and lead him deeper and deeper into the Founders' peculiar sanctum. Julian felt the cold, oily liquid snaking around his body and suddenly found himself completely immersed in the Link's strangely soothing embrace. Then everything went black.


Author's note: Dun dun duuun.

A huge hug and a wet kiss to those who read/reviewed/followed/favorited the fic. It really means a lot. Let me know what you think of this chapter and stay tuned for more ;)