Chapter Twenty-Four: Debriefing

Commander Sisko eased himself into the conference room chair, though the gel dressing that covered his back like an artificial skin actually kept him from feeling any discomfort. Still, Bashir kept a close eye on him, watching narrowly for any signs of fatigue. This was the first time he had been allowed from the infirmary to meet with the senior staff and put together their stories of what had happened.

Dax waited for Sisko to open the meeting as was his prerogative; when he didn't, she cleared her throat softly. "Commander."

Sisko looked up sharply — though not, Bashir noted, meeting the eyes of anyone else in the room. "Oh, ah, yes. Old Man, what can you tell us about what happened here on your end?" He seemed most comfortable with Dax, Bashir observed, perhaps because the lieutenant was neither male nor a white Terran.

Dax sighed. "You know Quark was very insistent you try the program."

"Yes — though somehow I can't really believe he was behind it — not without something in it for him, anyway."

"He wasn't," Dax assured him quickly. "His only fault was his usual greed, and perhaps asking too few questions."

"Though even that is pardonable when you consider what species he was dealing with," Bashir put in.

Sisko's brow furrowed; normally he would have asked immediately for an explanation, but today he remained silent.

"True," Dax admitted. "It was given to him by a Manthracite; looking into their eyes increases whatever you might already be feeling, and in Quark's case I'm sure we all know what that was."

"So this Manthracite had something against me personally, or was it meant as an attack on the station through its…leader?" He was still more comfortable responding to Dax, Bashir noted, and had stumbled over the word leader as if hesitant to apply it to himself.

"We don't know; he had left the station before you tried the program. But we were able to identify him as Salderman Digator; is that name familiar to you?"

Sisko closed his eyes in thought. "Yes…" he murmured slowly. "But I can't think from where…"

The others remained silent, giving him a moment to ponder it.

"It was when I was a child," he remembered at last, speaking as if half asleep. "He was a student at my school… That's what that handbill meant!" he exclaimed, jerking back to full alertness.

"Handbill?" O'Brien questioned.

"In the program," Sisko replied, his voice slurring into slave accents as he recalled the holosuite. "A handbill blew by…addressed to me. I think it said, 'Now you know how I felt, Sisko.'"

"It's certainly possible to put something like that in the program," O'Brien remarked. "But what did he mean, now you know how he felt?"

"He was the only non-human at the school," Sisko explained softly. "We teased him, of course; you know how kids will. I confess, I was something of a ringleader. I wouldn't admit it even to myself, but I was afraid of his eyes…they gave me nightmares sometimes."

"And Manthracites' eyes magnify emotions, including fear," Bashir murmured.

"My teasing him was just a cover for that, a way to make me feel in control," Sisko concluded softly. He sighed, shaking his head. "I had no idea it affected him so badly; I wish now I could go back and apologize."

Dax crossed her arms. "I don't," she said flatly. "What you did was wrong, Ben; I won't deny that. But you were just a child, and there's nothing you could possibly have done to him as a child that would have been even one tenth as bad as what he did to you."

"He's as responsible for every wound on your back as if he had wielded the lash himself," Bashir added coldly, a hard glint in his eye that made Dax think even his Oath as a doctor wouldn't hold him back from exacting punishment if the opportunity presented itself.

"And I don't think he ever expected us to be able to get you back," O'Brien added softly.

"How did you?" Bashir asked, his natural curiosity suddenly asserting itself. "I've only heard bits and pieces."

O'Brien looked at Dax, who nodded for him to explain. "Hawkinson discovered that you were trapped in the program as a transporter holding pattern. We were able to borrow the transporters from a visiting ship, and use them to retrieve you."

"Which Digator was surely aware we would be able to do?" Dax suggested.

Miles shrugged. "In theory, probably. But he likely expected us to study the program directly instead of making a copy — and that would have scrambled the signatures long before we ever knew they were there."

Sisko shuddered and Bashir winced slightly, though actually it would have been a completely painless death; a simple ceasing to exist.

"You're sure about that, aren't you?" Dax asked soberly.

"I've been studying that program forward and backward; yes, I'm sure."

Dax sighed. "I'll alert Starfleet to put out a warrant for him, but my guess is he's long gone from Federation space, and I have my doubts we'll ever see him again."

oOo

Quark looked up with interest as a stranger walked into his bar, having finally lost the fear reflex inspired by Digator's visit. Gradually he had convinced himself that the alien's vow to be always watching was mere bluff meant to frighten him into compliance, and not anything the man could make good on. Surely if he had been spying on Quark, he would already have exacted retribution for the aid the Ferengi had given Dax and O'Brien. So Quark, too, had convinced himself that he would never see the Manthracite again.

Next chapter coming next week! (…hopefully)

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