“I don’t know enough,” Akaar said. “How long was the parasite controlling him?”

“Months,” Gard answered. “We believe he became infected at some point during his diplomatic trip to the Federation. Unlike most symbionts, parasites completely dominate their hosts. They don’t even access the hosts’ long-term memories. That’s how your people detected them during the last incursion, but only after they’d already overplayed their hand. There are also subtle indications in behavior and body language, but these are more difficult to detect. That’s why I was called in. I’ve spent many lifetimes specializing in the behavioral psychology of joined beings. I was sent to DS9 specifically to evaluate Shakaar, and if our suspicions were correct, to deal with the matter.”

“But what did the creature want from Shakaar? What was it trying to do?”

Gard arched an eyebrow. “To take Bajor into the Federation. Isn’t that obvious?”

“But why Bajor?”

Gard shrugged. “A new direction of attack, perhaps? Infiltrate the Federation through a single species? Maybe to manipulate the sociopolitical landscape in this region as a prelude to some grander scheme? Take your pick. The only way to stop whatever plan they had was to stop Shakaar from signing the agreement, but in such a way that Federation unity couldn’t go forward.”

“That’s why you waited until the signing ceremony,” Akaar realized. “But why was it necessary to kill him?”

“He’d been infected too long. There was no longer a way to free him from the parasite. To all intents and purposes, Shakaar Edon was already dead.”

“Are we still in danger?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You said you were sent to DS9,” Akaar continued. “Is Trill behind this?”

Gard smiled. “That depends on who you ask.”

Akaar turned away, emotions seething. Finally he spun back around and grabbed the folds of Gard’s tunic in his great fists. “Do you think this is a game?”

“I’m growing weary of you, Akaar,” Gard said quietly. “You think you’re old? Believe me, you don’t know what old is. I’ve died more times than I can remember. Next to me, you’re a newborn. So don’t think you can intimidate me.”

Akaar slowly released Gard, but the two men continued to stare at each other. Finally the admiral said, “Gryphonis on its way to Trill.”

That seemed to give Gard pause. “Why?”

“Captain Mello believed they had detected the energy signature of a cloaked vessel, heading in the direction of Trill. We assumed it was you, so she set out in pursuit of it.” Akaar watched the shock seep into Gard’s face. “But if you are here, then it begs the question…what is Gryphonchasing?”

Gard did not respond at once. Clearly he had not expected the news. So the Jem’Hadar was right, and Gard had heard only part of Akaar’s conversation with Mello.“If what you’re telling me is true, then you’ve all been duped. Captain Mello is being manipulated by the same kind of creature that controlled Shakaar. Gryphonis going to Trill for one reason: to retaliate. Not for the death of Shakaar, but the thing that was inside him.

“You have to stop that ship, Akaar,” Gard said. “You can’t allow it to reach Trill.”

11

Chief Petty Officer Miles O’Brien tended to think of himself as uncomplicated. He lived life by a very fundamental rule: If something’s broken, you fix it. And if his long career as a Starfleet engineer had taught him anything—from his time aboard the Rutledge,to the Enterprise,to Deep Space 9, to his current posting on the faculty staff at Starfleet Academy—it was that people needed fixing as much as machines. More so. Especially family.

So when Kasidy Yates had contacted him all the way from Bajor with her unexpected request, O’Brien didn’t hesitate. Privately he was skeptical about what he could accomplish—after all, he’d only met Joseph Sisko a couple of times and had no special influence on the man. But O’Brien also had a fierce loyalty to Ben Sisko, his former commanding officer, and there was no way he would hesitate to do whatever he could for the man’s family, especially after what had happened to him…and to Jake.

New Orleans was literally minutes away from San Francisco by shuttle—only seconds by transporter—and O’Brien still had months of accumulated leave time he hadn’t used up. Once he’d explained the situation to his current C.O., Admiral Whatley—commandant of the Academy and another old friend of Captain Sisko’s—O’Brien quickly put his affairs in order and returned home, announcing to his wife and children that they were all taking a summer vacation to New Orleans.

Keiko had been none too pleased at first, rightly anticipating that August wasn’t exactly the most comfortable time of year to visit the sultry city on the Louisiana bayou. But once Miles had explained the reason for their impromptu holiday, all thoughts of the temporary inconvenience promptly vanished. Keiko arranged to take time off from her research, and the kids, Molly and Kirayoshi, both seemed genuinely excited by the idea of a visit to a new city. O’Brien pulled a few strings with some friends in the Corps of Engineers, and by evening the family had materialized on the pavement directly outside Sisko’s Creole Kitchen.

Judith Sisko, the captain’s sister, seemed as warm and welcoming as every other member of her family O’Brien had ever met. She also seemed to look on the O’Briens’ arrival as a godsend, which immediately made him worry. Kasidy Yates had believed that hearing from one of the captain’s old crew, someone who had worked closely with him and been a friend to Jake, might somehow get through to Joseph where his immediate friends and family could not. It was an idea born of desperation, O’Brien knew. Something you did when all the better ideas had failed. If the family had indeed put all their hopes on him, this could turn into a disaster very quickly.

O’Brien rapped on the door to Joseph’s room. When no response came, he slowly opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Mr. Sisko…?”

Joseph, seated at his window as Judith had described, turned on O’Brien with a scowl. “What the hell do you want?”

“Uh…I’m Miles O’Brien, sir. Your son was my commanding—”

“I know who you are,” Joseph interrupted. “I also know you’re trespassing. I didn’t invite you here.”

“No, sir, that’s true,” O’Brien said. “But Kasidy Yates—”

“Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, sir. She contacted me in San Francisco and asked me to pay a call on you. And your daughter—”

Joseph turned back to the window. “Why can’t people just learn to mind their own damn business? A man has a right to mourn his son, and his grandson, in his own way. You tell my daughter I don’t need somebody from Starfleet coming into my home to talk to me about my grief.”

“But sir, if I could just—”

Joseph abruptly rose from his chair and walked toward O’Brien with a fist shaking at his side. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You’re not welcome here! Get out and leave me the hell alone!”

O’Brien backed away, and the door slammed in his face.

When he went back downstairs, Keiko and Judith were staring at him. No doubt they’d heard everything.

“No luck?” Keiko asked.