Ikat'Etan contemplated the Dominion vessel with feigned indifference. The Starfleet admiral had taken him to her cabin and had stood beside the viewport in silence, looking at the ship, or maybe just at the darkeness outside, for several minutes now.

"It's beautiful ship," she finally commented, her husky voice softer than usually.

He stared at her for a moment. He wondered if beauty was something emotional; he knew how Vulcans detached themselves from them. It seemed an odd comment to make. Beauty was not something Jem'Hadar warriors were supposed to appreciate; it was a foreign word, a luxury not allowed for those who were bred and raised for war. Itak'Etan focused his attention back on the battle ship and studied it; he could not tell if it was beautiful or not.

The admiral reached for his eyes; he noticed her gaze set upon him and turned again to her. "Our offer still stands," she reminded him, and once more he noticed how she kept her voice deliverately low, almost kind. "No offense intended."

Itak'Etan understood them. It had taken a while, but he had finally realized the Federation officers were really trying to help. That's why he could not remain unpassionate when he looked at the familiar vessel waiting to retrieve them. Feelings were a hindrance for soldiers; Jem'Hadars, just like the Vulcan beside him, were not encouraged to harbour them; he was sure the Founders had nullified them as much as they had thought wise while enhancing his race. And yet, he felt them stirring, unsettling him. He was not about to accept their offer; he had a mission, a goal, even if nobody else seemed to understand or care. He doubted about expressing himself aloud. However, the admiral had taken him to her quarters to speak in private and he had his own concerns to address.

"Do you also believe what Garak said about Relnak?"

If the Starfleet officer was startled by his question, she did not show it. She looked straight at him for an instant, revealing nothing, and tilted her head slightly to the side before replying, "I never met him."

Itak'Etan wanted to press her, wanted to insist, wanted to know the truth about the alien man who had changed their lives, but he kept silent instead.

"The moment has come," he stated instead. "We are going home. No more delayings." He set his jaw and silently dared the Vulcan admiral to say otherwise.

Saavik had known she would not change his mind, but she still had had to try. She looked at the Jem'Hadar warrior, seeing again a reflection of her own. Except that for her, Romulus had never being home; she tried hard to understand his devotion to those who had only manipulated him since before birth. She could understand well his will to become free, to become someone better. She could understand his desire to free the rest of his people too. And she finally made the connection then, she realized the difference; Saavik's eyes smiled sincerely at him. Itak'Etan had a home within the Dominion; he had his people, the Jem'Hadar. Saavik in Hellguard, surrounded by her fellow hybrids, had been utterly alone. The other children had never been her family; they had just been other enemies to deal with. There had been nothing but evil in that forsaken world for her; Itak'Etan, however, in spite of his similar upbringing, had something good to return to, someone to fight for. He could not simply run away and leave his former life behind.

Itak'Etan could not read Saavik's eyes. He was inmmersed in his own thoughts and problems. He waited for her to move and she did. They did not utter another word until they reached the transport bay, where the rest of his soldiers were already waiting.

"Live long and prosper," the Vulcan admiral said as farewell.

Itak'Etan knew it was a traditional saying and however, it could not be more meanful. Live long and prosper, that was all he wanted, and he wondered one more time if he was not asking for too much.

As the commanding officer, he was the first one to step into the transportation pods. Second followed him. When the beam took him, he repeated again in his mind the words he had prepared to say to his fellow Jem'Hadar, the speech he had spoken so many times while preparing himself for that very moment. It lasted an instant. Next, he was in another familiar room, one he had not been able to be in for years. In front of him, there were several Jem'Hadar warriors. Gelnaan was also present. He stood behind them, looking at him.

Itak'Etan had taken a step forward and other Jem'Hadars were being materialized now. Itak'Etan frowned. He noticed then the warriors in front of him, their weapons raised againts them. He could not comprehend. He had not uttered a word yet. He wondered for an instant if the Federation officers had lied to him and had spoken about his intentions with them.

"Fire," the Vorta ordered next, and the already awaiting warriors simply complied.

He wondered again if he had been betrayed. He realized at that moment how futile all his hopes had been, how easily all his plans could be shattered. He had not said a single word of his speech. He was dying and his uniqueness was dying with him, forever unknown.

He had wanted to be a hero for his people, he had dreamed with the chance of starting a new era. He had never been a fool and had known he could very well die a traitor instead. But he had thought he would be killed because of his words, because of what he had become, thanks to Relnak. Now the end had come and he was just beeing dismissed as a common soldier who failed to do his duty, just another fallen one nobody would ever remember.

Nothingness was coming next, just miliseconds separated him from simply vanishing forever. The new race of Jem'Hadar had never existed. And he again thought of the Cardassian, Relnak, the one his compatriot said was a bad person, who had never cared, who had only followed his own agenda. How could they know? How could anybody tell who he had really been? Relnak may be remembered one way, he may as well be forever forgotten, but for him and for his fellow formed prisoners, he would be a hero. Relnak would always be the hero who had freed them in every sense of the word. Relnak was the hero thanks to whom they died free today, even if their accomplishment would remain unknown.

Itak'Etan was becoming blackness, he was becoming void, and for an instant he saw himself contemplating the universe outside, beside the Vulcan admiral, the inmensity of it. He wondered how many more secrets it kept forgotten in its deepness. It was an odd last thought to have. He contemplated the Dominion vessel one last time, from that point of view, and finally he saw beauty.

"You're just a tool", Ajeya's word taunted him in his mind.

"I am not," his defiant soul cried out.