Chapter 14
Bashir had nothing to do that night. Sisko was away and he had no file to review, no analysis to make, no report to write. He had, instead, time to think.
He knew something bad would come of this. It had been written in the eyes of his contact, who had beamed into his quarters just long enough to give his message and leave. They didn't make contact like that unless it was very important. He was sure they knew he'd been using Garak for information. Apparently they didn't mind, although he was sure it would matter to someone later. He couldn't think about the future. He didn't want to know what it would cost him.
Instead of writing a report, he read back through the one's he'd already done. He wondered who had written them. They were so dry, so clinical, so cold. They were not about what had driven Sisko, but about what he'd reacted to. He knew they were accurate enough for Sloan's use. He knew Sisko would slip and they'd catch him in their web. He had no idea what become of Sisko when they were done.
He couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't run. All he could do was hope it would end soon.
o0o
Everyone knew where Sisko had been. The grapevine did not include any details, but the meeting itself was no secret. Sisko attended to the stations business as if nothing at all had happened. No one mentioned the meeting around him, but everybody looked.
It was late in the day, and he had caught up with the necessary things. He needed company. He'd arraigned for lunch with Kassidy but she was busy. Jake had gone to cover some story for the Federation news service. He looked at his son's picture, and realized he was very proud of him. He had assumed that as the son of a Starfleet officer Jake would share his choices. For a long time, Jake had almost disappointed him. But now, looking at the path he had come to take, he appreciated his son more. He looked forward to taking his son to the sheltered valley he'd fallen in love with near the meeting area, and talking about the things they'd never had time for. Jake would be back in perhaps a week. He would make arrangements ahead to visit, lest he attract undue attention.
He still needed some conversation. Leaving his office, he stopped by Kira. "Have you had lunch?" he asked. "I'd like to review a few things from yesterday."
She nodded. "I'll be there," she said. He noted that the everyone near enough to hear was trying hard to pretend they weren't listening.
He had reviewed the things from the day he'd missed with Kira, and served their lunch. It was their usual arraignment when he'd been to Bajor. But somehow today it was different, everything was different.
She must have noticed. "You must have enjoyed yourself," she said.
He knew they were listening, and every word would be studied for some sort of meaning. But he didn't care. With the meeting done its location was hardly a secret anymore. "I took a walk at sunset around the valley," he said, dreamily. "It's so beautiful. How could there be such devastation and ugliness in one place, and not too far away, such beauty?"
"I've never been there," she said. "But I've heard about it."
"When he gets back, I want to take Jake there. I want him to understand." Sisko left all the rest unsaid.
Kira smiled. "In time, he will."
"I know. Do you know how upset I was when he said he didn't want to go into Starfleet? It was unthinkable. But I can see, now, how he would never fit. If I can learn, maybe he can too." Sisko sighed. It was as if a giant weight had been lifted. He was almost looking forward to Ross's next talk. So many things were clear now that had not been before.
Sitting in that garden, after all the talking was done, he'd come to realize that he was home, and he couldn't wait for the charade to end so he could stay.
o0o
Garak had had another visit from one of the faceless grim men, this time with several padds. He was to pass them on directly to Bashir. The visit had been brief. He had no interest in the contents and picked them up before leaving to meet the doctor for lunch.
Bashir was already there. He had gotten his food but didn't seem to have much of an appetite. Garak had the impression he was depressed. It was refreshing to see his friend had not gone as cold as the man who brought the padds.
He thought of the book. "I've nearly finished your book, if you'd like to read it again. In the meanwhile, I thought these might be of interest. They are rather long, but one follows the other."
Julian took the padds. Garak noticed that he didn't look at them. "I'll do my best," he said, and the Cardassian could hear how tired he was. "I think I'd like to try some much lighter reading, actually," he said, glancing at the padds.
The rest of the lunch was filled with meaningless small talk. But Garak knew it was nearly over, and suspected the doctor did as well. He hoped there would be another lunch, but did not make any plans. Everything depended on the actions of Benjamin Sisko now.
o0o
Julian Bashir sat in a small room staring at the bio-monitor. He didn't know where they had put Sisko, but it was obvious he was being put through some kind of personal hell. There had been no hint this time. Kukalaka had remained on the shelf. But one of Sloan's underlings had awakened him from his sleep that night.
The man had handed him a black uniform. "Get dressed, we need you," he'd said. Bashir, numb with the realization that they'd probably taken Sisko, dressed in a fog. He'd been beamed to the ship, and taken immediately to the room.
Sloan had been nowhere in sight. But his guide was informative. "We need to know if the stress level becomes life-threatening."
"What are you doing to him?" he'd asked.
"Just a test," said the man as he headed out the door.
Had someone been watching with his test, or Garak's?
It took over an hour. The physical effects of the psychological torment came in peaks and valleys, but never ended. He didn't try the door to see if it was locked. He didn't want to know. He couldn't stop what they were doing.
He didn't want to watch but there was nothing else to do. Then, quite suddenly, all the readings dropped to nothing. The program had ended. He watched with fascination, wondering what happened next. Sisko's slow, steady heartbeat seemed to fill the room.
Abruptly the door opened and his guide reappeared. "Time to go to work," he said.
Bashir followed him, concluding that even if the door had not been locked, he could not have found Sisko. He was escorted into an outer room of the medical section, and found Sloan waiting for him.
"He's still unconscious, but when he wakes up you can give him this. It's the same drug you were given."
'Not quite,' he thought. But then Sisko didn't need the viral suppressant they had given to him.
"He knows you, and that you work for us, so he won't see any new faces this way. When he's stabilized we'll send him home." Sloan wore that same odd little smile he had when Bashir had been released.
"So he passed," he said, almost to himself.
"Yes," said Sloan. "Despite your misleading profile. That will have to be discussed."
Bashir forgot the looming threat when he walked into the next room. Sisko lay on the biobed, his body limp. Bashir picked up his arm where it had fallen over the side and Sisko cringed.
He stared at the man in horror. He could not allow himself to think of how his reports had defined the inner Sisko. He checked the monitor and discovered Sisko was starting to wake.
He opened his eyes, trying to focus. He groaned and dropped his head back to the pillow.
Bashir gave him the drug. "This will help," he said, feeling a great emptiness.
Sisko fell into a relaxed sleep. He woke an hour later, gradually opening his eyes. They narrowed at the sight of Bashir standing there. "You ... " he said.
Bashir said nothing. Sisko was still in shock, though the physical effects had ebbed. He though of Sloan's threat and shivered a little.
He rechecked the readings. "It's time to go home, Captain," he said.
Sisko was staring at him, but he didn't think he was all that Sisko could see. The drug took a little while to work. "Just tell me why," said Sisko in a lost voice. "Or are you too much a coward to do that?" Something caught his attention, a figment of his nightmare come to be real.
Bashir remembered how Kukalaka had followed him until Sloan had sent him away. He walked out of the room slowly, forcing himself not to hurry. "He's ready," he told the guard.
He didn't know if Sloan was going to discuss his reports then or later, but felt the still unfamiliar tingle of their transporter, and found himself back in his own quarters again. Still wearing the black uniform, he picked up his bear, wishing he could remember what it meant to believe in something.
o0o
Sisko was in his quarters, apparently asleep. Bashir hadn't looked further. He couldn't bear to look. He couldn't stand the thought that his observations had made this possible.
He'd taken off the black uniform and carefully hung it up. He didn't want to. But he was used to hanging his clothes neatly. He looked at the outfits he'd put together to fake the uniform. He hung the real thing next to them.
The last time he'd worn one, Sloan had taken it back. He understood this time it was his to keep. They had stolen everything now, even his medical integrity. He wondered what sort of punishment he'd be given for his analysis being so faulty. He was afraid, but somehow he could not stop the thought that any punishment would be inadequate.
He dressed for bed. In a few hours, he'd have to get up and pretend again. Unable to sleep, he stared at the darkened walls.
A sound alerted him that Sisko had received a message. He ignored it. Staring at the shadows, he drifted into a brief, dreamless sleep ended too soon by the day.
o0o
Benjamin Sisko was not sleeping. His head ached, and he felt dizzy, but he could not close his eyes.
If he tried, the images came back to him. He'd checked the time and date in his quarters when his kidnappers had returned him. It had only been a few hours. But in his mind the time had been much greater. In his mind, the Dominion had not been stopped. They had taken the alpha quadrant. It was the nightmare that had pushed him to break every rule and compromise his own soul. He did not know how it worked, but it didn't matter. It had been too real. The images had mingled into a series of flashes, each moment too real to forget.
He remembered the way Garak had stared at him, without saying a word, when he'd come into the infirmary. And the way Bashir had been so sick he nearly died. He concluded it could have been worse. Physically he was fine. But that had been by their choice.
He wanted to talk to Garak, even Bashir, and ask how long the intense feeling of it being real lasted. But he didn't dare tell. That much was obvious. If he had to he could ask Bashir for help, but he'd rather suffer than do that.
He could not forget the image of Bashir standing there, clad in that black uniform, just waiting for him to wake. He would always wonder when they'd come for him again.
Bashir knew about that. It was worse for him. Someone had forced him to go with the people who'd kidnaped and tortured him, Sisko thought glumly. Well, Bashir had paid him back now. They were even.
He'd already made the decision. When Jake returned, he was going to take him to Bajor, and establish a home. He would still command the station until the war ended, but stay only when he had to. That part of his life was already over. It had ended when they had ...
He didn't want to remember it. It had been the ultimate proof of his loyalty, and had probably meant he came home. Bashir had said he passed. He didn't want to consider what came of those that didn't.
He picked up the picture of his son, taken just before he'd left, with his arms around his new girlfriend. The image flashed in his mind, the last image they'd given him before he passed out. There had been so much blood. He had been so still. He couldn't see the picture for the image in his head.
The com system beeped, alerting him to a message. It would attract attention if he didn't answer it.
He initiated the contact. He looked away when Ross's face filled the screen. But he caught the expression. He'd expected gloating, or something that might suggest a threat. But instead, Ross looked somber.
"I didn't want to wake you so early, but I wanted you to hear the news privately." He sounded tired and depressed, and grieved.
"I wasn't sleeping," said Sisko. He knew Ross worked with them. But he didn't know what they'd done. Obviously they didn't trust him that far.
"Ben, there was series of attacks near the badlands. A group of civilians was being evacuated. The Jem'Hadar destroyed everything. Jake was on one of those ships. Nobody survived the attack." He paused, "It would be in the morning briefing with a casualty list, but I wanted you to be notified personally before you discovered the name." He looked up at Sisko. "I'm sorry Ben. He was a very wonderful young man."
Sisko could not take it in. He remembered all the blood, how still he'd been. He could see it so clearly. It would always be the last sight of his son. "Thank you," he said.
As Ross disappeared, he patched an audio only message to Kira. "I don't think I can come in today. You'll see why. I would like to be left alone."
Within hours, everybody had heard. But Garak knew there was more to it than that. Sisko wasn't given to withdrawing. Bashir had looked terrible, as if he'd had no sleep. The haunted look in his eyes was worse. Garak was sure something had happened. The plan had worked. All that remained was for the last few pieces to drop and spring the trap. Garak wished he could check, but that would be too dangerous. One of the dominos was falling and would take the rest with it.
But Garak planned to be elsewhere when that happened. He was leaving his shop and all the padds behind. He had already arraigned his escape. All that was needed was his signal.
The shop had been deserted most of the morning, but he heard a little chime to indicate a customer. Reluctantly, he went to the front.
He knew who the man was with at first glance. But there was more than the drab clothes. He was not just a messanger. He usually sent them. "Well, Mr. Garak. I finally get to meet you. I'd like to order a suit. You'll deliver it in a few days, we'll tell you when. Here are the specifications." He handed Garak a padd, and Garak looked it over. It was nothing more than a pattern and measurements.
"That should be possible," said Garak.
"Make sure of it," said the man, and Garak understood there was no room for negotiation. His visitor walked around the room, looking at the clothes. "I've been told you are a fine tailor. I like your work. We'll have to see what else you're good at." The man smiled. The smile reminded Garak of Tain.
"Would you care to look at anything else?" asked Garak, with just a hint of nerves in his voice.
"No, they'll be plenty of time for that." The voice was so pleasant. Tain could be that way if he wanted to. Abruptly it hardened. "About your travel plans. You should reconsider. Captain Sisko's son was lost yesterday from a Jem'Hadar attack. I can assure you that ship you leave the station on will meet much the same fate. I would keep this in mind."
Garak watched him walk out of the shop. It wouldn't matter if they knew where he was going. They could still take him. He would be staying longer than he planned.
o0o
Kira had seen the name as soon as she looked at the list. It was alphabetical, and remembering the tone of Sisko's message, she had looked at it immediately. But she hadn't expected it to be Jake. The tall young man had grown up on the station, and was well liked. Sisko worried about his son, checking on his destination before he left. Jake had patiently put up with it.
He wasn't supposed to be near the badlands. He must have been re-assigned before he got home. It had come as a surprise.
She could not believe it. It was easier to accept death when it was near and visible. As hard as Jadzia's passing had been, there had been closure. They had been lucky. The small group that Sisko had adopted as family had survived in-tack for a long time. They had mourned together. They had said good bye.
It had been harder with Worf, before his last minute rescue by a passing ship. His escape pod might never have been found. He might have died a slow death in the tiny tomb, or been picked up by the enemy. There was little evidence of prisoners being taken. It had given all of them a feeling of lingering doubt, most of all Ezri. She had come close to taking a runabout and looking for him herself, but security had stopped her. Miles had verbally wondered if she ever forgave herself for not succeeding.
But it would be different with Jake Sisko. Worf had been a soldier. He might have vanished during many other missions. Jake had gone away one day and would never come back. There was nothing, not even a body. The chances he was alive were so small they didn't really count, but she knew that Sisko would always wonder.
She knew about that kind of death. The Cardassians had taken people out in the fields or along the roads. They simply never came home. What became of them was usually never known. It made it harder to grieve, even if death was a reasonable assumption. In this war, it was too common a way to die. People in the Federation were learning how to live with the lingering uncertainty.
It was reasonable that Sisko would have allowed himself private grief over the death of his son. But something else was wrong. She knew him too well. Solitude was not the way he dealt with pain. He pushed himself harder. That evening, after she was done with most of the day's work, she paid him a quiet visit.
She didn't know if he'd let her in. But he opened his door at her ring.
She walked in, not knowing what to expect. He had Jake's pictures sitting together, and copies of his writing sorted in a stack. But he was just sitting, staring out the window.
"I was going to ask you to come by," he said, his voice halting. "I just couldn't ... "
She came closer, and tentatively sat down. "I have no idea what it feels like to lose a son," she said. "But I know how hard it is when someone you care about just disappears, when you never have a chance to say good bye. If there is anything I can do," she said.
"You don't understand," he said, his voice without any inflection. "I saw him die. I'll always see him die that way. I made him die."
Kira said quietly. "The Jem'Hadar killed him. You didn't put him there."
"No, but someone did." He paused, motioning her closer. He took her hand, looking her in the eyes. "I have to tell someone. But you can't say anything. Do you understand?"
She was shaken by the eyes, dull and stunned, seeing things she could not. She had seen that look before, in those liberated from the Cardassians. "I understand," she said.
"You can tell no one," he insisted again.
"I'll keep it to myself," she said.
Staring out the window, his hands shaking as he talked, Sisko told her of a disjointed nightmare, with a different outcome to the war, where Jake had become a pawn between the Dominion, Sisko, and a Vorta who wanted answers. He had kept silent, and Jake had paid the price. He had awakened, dizzy and disoriented, later to discover that he'd only been gone a short while. But he did remember one thing quite clearly. Bashir had been there.
"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, shaken. She meant Bashir, but Sisko had no interest in that.
"I have composed a message to Starfleet," he said, and gave her a padd. She read it twice.
"Have you transmitted this?" she asked.
"In the morning. I just want some time for myself right now," he said.
"What about Bashir?" she asked.
"There is nothing I can do. I was warned not to say anything. There are others that matter to me too. I don't want to lose all of them."
"You can't let him walk around here, after he's been a part of that ... " she paused, trying to think of an adequate description.
His voice was no longer flat. He actively insisted she keep out of it. "No, I can't do anything, and you won't either. I need your promise."
She sighed. It didn't sound right, but she knew he'd keep insisting. "I won't say anything," she said.
"You'll be in command," he said abruptly. "I want you to be prepared."
"I'm sure I can do it," she said, not certain what he meant.
"You'll have to deal with Starfleet. Keep an eye on Ross. He isn't to be trusted."
"Does he know?" she asked.
"No, they don't trust him that far. But he has unsavory friends." He shifted around in the chair. "Beware of them. They did this to me. Bashir watched for them."
She remembered the meeting, after Bashir had been kidnaped by a secret organization that was a part of Starfleet itself. Sisko had pushed him into joining as a spy. "Are these the same people who kidnaped Bashir a few years ago?"
"Yes," he said. "They wanted him, and they found a way to make him theirs." She heard regret and resignation. "Do what I should have done then. Let him make his own decisions. Just leave him alone."
She was still angry at Bashir, still found his actions unthinkable for the man she'd known. But she understood. For Sisko it was done. He just wanted to leave where he might find some peace. "What will you do?" she asked.
"Oh, I'm sure they can find something for the Emissary to do."
"All Bajor will welcome you," she said.
"I hope not. I think I'd just like some privacy right now," he said.
Kira felt a little better. It would be hard, but he'd get over losing Jake. He'd learn to live with the torment he'd been subject to. Benjamin Sisko was no longer lost and alone. He was going home.
o0o
He had not seen Sisko except for an occasional glance since the fateful night. He knew too much about Sloan's "tests" and didn't want to know what the details had been. He'd seen what it had done to Sisko. But he had passed. Sloan would never have sent him back if he hadn't.
But that morning there was a note from Sisko, asking him to come to his quarters. Bashir was curious, and wary of Sisko's belligerence. But he found something much different.
Sisko said, "Come in, Doctor," when he rang the bell. Bashir was suddenly worried for the man. The last time he'd heard anything like the defeated tone was after Jadzia's death. He stepped in cautiously, and found Sisko packing. He was in civilian clothes. Before he could say anything, Sisko said quietly, "You'll be the first to know. I transmitted my resignation from Starfleet this morning. It was accepted."
Bashir said carefully, "It's an important time for Bajor. I thought you'd be staying."
Sisko continued packing. "I am. On Bajor."
Somehow, Bashir realized, Sloan's plans had backfired. He hadn't been asked to discuss his reports yet. He had once made Sisko's life miserable. Now it was Sisko's turn to return the favor. "You would have more influence here," he said.
Sisko stopped his packing and walked towards Julian, silently handing him a padd. "My official notification," he said softly.
Bashir read the short report. "My sincere condolences, Sir," he said quietly. Jake Sisko and seven others had disappeared while on a small shuttle. The debris in the area matched the ship. It was assumed that all on board had been killed. Survivors might have been captured, but none were likely given the state of the wreckage. He handed the padd back to Sisko, his face a mask of nothingness.
Sisko put it with a small pile of personal items. Then he turned and looked at Julian. "I just want you to know the sort of people you work for," he said bitterly. "I had to watch my son die in that-game of his. But I was warned to watch what I said and did. I agreed, so I would be allowed to leave. But," he said, pausing, staring at Bashir, "I have given it much thought. Jake is dead because of that man. It was a warning."
Bashir didn't react, at least outwardly. Sloan would have done that, but not when Sisko was behaving. Sisko couldn't disappear, but he could be punished. But they would wait until there was a good reason. "Jake's death wasn't planned. You're proving to Sloan that he was right if you leave."
"I don't believe you. You were tapping my personal logs. I have no reason to trust anything you say." Sisko was too defensive, too bitter to be lying. Bashir told himself that Sisko was wrong, that he had not become the man Sisko described.
"Believe as you will, then," he said, uninterested in an argument.
"I intend to keep Bajor away from the Federation. I've always believed it would be best to join, but I didn't know what lies we were taught to believe then," said Sisko, his tone flat and determined. "I will not be a part of anything which condones the sort of crimes your people commit. That includes the Federation and Starfleet." There was anger in his tone. "I think this conversation has ended."
Bashir nodded. "There is nothing else to say."
o0o
Garak had made the suit. Starfleet intelligence brought him more padds, and he decoded them. The others had asked nothing of him. He looked at the suit, each morning, as he came to his shop. Bashir had retreated into himself, barely speaking to anyone aside from work. But he was nervous. Garak was most reluctant to admit he understood.
He had not given up the idea of leaving. But the man he'd made arraignments with had mysteriously met with an accident. Garak was sure any others would have the same fate. His nightmare had returned as well, except now the executioner was faceless, just like the men who ordered the suits.
One sleepless night he considered his options. He'd ruled out running away. It would just make things worse. And he had no real objections to their kind of work. He'd done it all before. It was another of his best talents.
It was the reminder of his past that hurt. Tain had exiled his own son as a punishment for betrayal. The Order could no longer trust him. *They* would not trust him either. He saw no reason for their interest except as a someone expendable, to be manipulated at will.
Perhaps, he thought. He still believed they had seriously underestimated Elim Garak. It might prove to be most challenging.
He was almost looking forward to the suit being delivered.
o0o
Sisko's resignation had come as a great shock. The Bajorans reflected a variety of views, from dismay to a rather smug attitude. A special meeting had been called for all Starfleet officers on how to deal with the subject. They were not to make things worse. Bashir was hardly listening. Command of the station now passed to Kira, and she was clearly in Sisko's camp. From the looks he'd gotten from her he assumed Sisko had explained more than the public reasons. She had not been at the meeting. No Bajorans had been invited.
But he had to talk to Sisko one last time. Sloan would be pulling him out soon, he assumed. Sloan still needed to discuss his reports, and he doubted he'd ever see Sisko again after that. He could not let it remain so unresolved.
Sisko's door was open, and he was talking to Kira. Both looked up as he stood by the door. Kira shot him a look of pure venom. "I think you should leave," she said.
"I just wanted a private conversation," he said. He tried to sound calm and reasonable. He hoped the arrogance had been banished.
He realized Sisko was looking at him, grim and bitter. "It's ok, Nerys." But his tone was hard.
She nodded, and left. On the way out she gave him another look of disdain.
He stepped inside and the door closed. He just stood, letting Sisko have the opening shot. Finally, after looking Bashir over, he said, bitterly, "I'm not interested in anymore lies, Doctor."
Bashir stepped forward. It was hard to drop the mask he'd made for himself, but somehow the man had to understand. "I should have not made any judgements. It might not have changed things, but I should not have encouraged any misinterpretations." He said it quietly, leaving out unnecessary details.
"You tapped into my private logs," said Sisko coldly. "You spied on me, and probably still can." Sisko picked up a picture of Jake. "You gave me to that," he paused, walking up to Bashir, standing very close, "than murderer you work for." He stepped back, hurt and angry. "Don't try to make amends. There aren't any to be made."
Bashir kept his own feelings under control. "I checked. Jake's ship was one of seven hit in the same area. Sloan didn't have anything to do with it."
"He probably didn't," said Sisko reluctantly. "And there were twelve ships hit. Three of them survived. Two were probably captured. You should have checked a little further."
Bashir guessed Sisko knew about his enquiry. "I don't know if you can believe me, but my condolences are sincere. I liked Jake very much. I'll miss him."
Sisko was holding back his grief, and nodded. "I believe you. But it doesn't change the way I feel. Losing Jake was the last straw. But your ... superior ... made it impossible to stay."
Bashir wasn't really surprised. Sisko could not abandon Bajor and would have eventually done the same. Sloan had just speeded it up and made it an act of bitterness. He had probably made it worse with his own anger. He owed Sisko. But then, Sisko owed him too.
"You aren't innocent either," he said. Sisko watched, warily. "You gave me to Sloan."
Sisko turned his head away. Bashir wondered what sort of stress readings he'd get out of this conversation. Finally the former Captain turned towards him with a haunted look. He spoke a little above a whisper. "I had much on my mind then. I never considered ... "
Bashir moved closer. "No, you didn't," he said bitterly. "Sloan used what amounted to torture before. You expected him to just smile when I said I'd work for him." His own voice was shaking, the anger spilling out. "I had to prove myself, and if I hadn't he'd have let me die. After that there was no longer any choice. But you already knew the sort of man he was when you gave that order."
Sisko tried to turn away, but Bashir moved with him. He finally spoke, slowly, sadly. "If you had refused Sloan what would have happened?" His voice was very quiet, and so tired.
Bashir said, calmly, "He would have tried again. Perhaps he would have found some way of making my life miserable enough he'd be acceptable. But I would never have accepted, at least not that easily, if I hadn't been ordered to." He took a deep breath and let it out. "What would have happened in the end? Perhaps the same, but we'll never know. Not now ... I'd have liked to think I tried to refuse him at least."
The anger was spent. Sisko looked exhausted, and Bashir had finally said what he had wished. Sisko sat in the closest chair. "I meant what I said. I won't remain in service to a government who sanctions people like Sloan. I'd hate to have to include you in that."
"And what do you expect me to do now?" ask Bashir, feeling very tired himself. "I can't quit. He'd kill me, probably in some very special way as an example. I hated you enough that I got used to him. I'm not the man you knew." He looked at Sisko, his voice hard. "All I have left is Sloan."
Sisko looked at him, equally cold. "And I have Bajor. But now it's what's left."
Bashir understood, even if he didn't want to. "I can't forgive. I hated you. It was so intense I lost myself. I can't forget that, what you took from me."
Sisko looked away. "In his little play Jake died too. It made his real death very personal. I keep seeing that ... moment. I'll always think of it when I miss him. You can't tell me Sloan would have done that if you hadn't made sure."
Bashir wasn't sure, but it wouldn't change Sisko's mind. "I don't expect forgiveness. I'm not asking you to absolve me of anything. I just didn't want this to end in anger. We both lost our way."
Sisko nodded, "And we'll continue to pay for it. I wish you luck, Doctor. Try not to lose all you were."
Bashir nodded back. "If any of it is left," he said softly.
Sisko eyed him. "There is. A little at least. You came here tonight."
"I should go," said Bashir, suddenly uncomfortable. He'd already considered what made him go there. Perhaps a little was left. But not enough to survive long, he knew. He made his choice when he's put Sisko in the spotlight. He'd confirmed it while watching the stress readings during Sisko's mind game and keeping quiet. That had been the final betrayal of what he was. "Good bye, Sir," he said at the door.
o0o
End, Part 3, Chapter 14