About April 14, 2378
Stardate 55283

Captain K’Taul stood up as the three Romulan Ambassadors entered Colonel Kira Nerys’s office on Deep Space Nine, as did both Kira and Commander Chris Harriman.  Followed closely by the Romulan ambassadors were two Federation ambassadors, one Vulcan, the other looked human, though very well could have been a telepath.

“I demand to have this settled once and for all, right here, right now!” one of the Romulans spat out immediately, waving her arms around wildly.  “We have waited for a  month now!”

Kira raised her hands up parallel to the desk, then eased them downward, a motion she must have picked up from humans.  “Easy, Ambassador,” she said quietly.  “We’re as anxious to finish this as you are.”

K’Taul never was good with diplomacy, not when it involved Romulans…but he decided he might as well try.  “I apologize for delaying you in this matter,” he said in the most diplomatic tone he could manage.  “My ship has been rather occupied since the incident that occurred.”

The Romulan who had started ranting before seemed to glare at K’Taul, as if his apology were an insult more than anything else.

“Come, be at peace, Ambassador Rauss,” the Vulcan said, his tone of voice more soothing than Kira’s.  “The faster you calm down, the faster we can finish these proceedings.”

As the Vulcan and the other Federation ambassador sat down on the only other couch, the Romulans moved to their chairs and stood in front of them, seemingly daring anyone to try to tell them to sit down.

As Kira, K’Taul, and Chris all sat down, Kira said, “I’m sorry we don’t have any more comfortable chairs, my office was not made to entertain so many guests.”

“We prefer to stand,” another Romulan Ambassador said, his chin high with arrogance.

Kira shrugged easily and said, “Suit yourself.”

“All right, let’s get started,” the human ambassador said, her voice not nearly as easy going as every one else’s.  She motioned to Chris and K’Taul.  “We’ve read both of your logs, but we’d like to hear it straight from you.  What happened?”

K’Taul looked at Chris, who looked back, then nodded to him.  K’Taul knew he might do so, for only an objectified view would help them here.  Chris would likely go crazy describing how seven hundred lives were lost to the Romulans.

“Our first orders,” K’Taul began, looking at the Romulans, “when we first launched was to come here and receive orders.  Our orders were to accompany the USS Shauny to unexplored space to respond to a distress signal and investigate the disappearance of the USS Sovereign.  Upon receiving those orders, we set a course for the distress signal and followed the Shauny out of Federation space.”

“When did you encounter the Romulan Warbird?” the human ambassador asked.

“Almost four days after we left DS9,” K’Taul replied.  “About ten light years away from Lauss space.”

“Describe the battle.”

He nodded in annoyance, he was just getting to that point!  “The Warbird decloaked directly ahead of us,” he began.  “and fired at the Shauny.  We dropped out of warp and engaged the Warbird.  We soon discovered that its weapons were extremely powerful, more powerful than anything we’d ever encountered, and for a while, it looked as if the battle were lost.  However, my Operation’s officer soon discovered that their starboard nacelle was damaged, and the residual energy signature matched Federation weapons.

“We targeted that nacelle and fired everything we had at it.  However, the Shauny lost shields just after the Warbird lost its starboard shields, and the Warbird subsequently destroyed her.  We targeted the nacelle and fired torpedoes, but the power surge was more powerful than we thought it would be, and the Warbird exploded.”

He glared at the Romulans hard now, the obvious right in front of their faces.  “That Warbird was responsible for fourteen hundred deaths.”

“You can’t prove that it was our Warbird that destroyed your USS Sovereign,” Rauss stated bitterly.  “You can only prove that our Warbird was attacked by a Federation starship before its encounter with you!”

“Why else would our ship be missing and your ship damaged!?” K’Taul said, raising his voice.

“They probably lost a pitiful battle against your infamous Vrol!” she responded.

Edging out of his seat slightly, K’Taul shouted, “Or perhaps they encountered your Warbird and died in glorious battle!”

“Enough!”

Kira was on her feet now, glaring at both Rauss and K’Taul.  He glared right back at her…but her stare was harder than any he’d ever seen.

She was grinding her teeth when she sighed and shook her head.  “Look, we’re getting no where.”

She sat down and thought for a moment.  “All right, we have the information on the battle now.”  She looked at K’Taul, then at Rauss.  Both nodded in agreement, she was right on that count.  “We’ll take a break for now, let tension cool a little bit.  Reconvene after dinner, at nineteen hundred hours.”

Chris looked around at the promenade, something he’d only visited once or twice before.  Much had changed since the Dominion War…in fact, it appeared busier than he’d ever seen it!  Every shop he could see into was packed full, while the area outside of the shops, both levels, was teeming with alien life, conversations in so many different languages, making his ears hurt.

He started moving through the crowd, allowing him to finally figure out the range on his universal translator, which was quite distant.  As he concentrated on the language of an alien ahead, the alien’s language seemed to suddenly change from something alien to basic.

He shook his head and headed for Quark’s bar, the one place he always had to visit when he was on DS9.  It was odd to see just who he could find in there, sometimes he met old friends, sometimes old Commanding Officers.  He once even met Admiral Scott, who had been on a starship testing a new warp drive.

After a while of milling through the crowd, he finally made his way to it, only to find it unusually empty.  With all of those crowds out there, none of them were in here.

He slowly walked in, wondering what could keep all of these people out.  Only half of the tables were taken, which was very odd.  He looked around, but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.  It was empty…and quiet.

Chris moved to the bar and sat down, continuing to look around.

“Uh, looking for someone special, Commander?” an ever-familiar voice asked.

Chris turned his head to see Quark now standing in front of him, cleaning a glass with a white cloth.  He frowned and shook his head.  “No, I’m just wondering why your bar is so empty.”

Quark rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “A bunch of Bajorans came in here earlier, odd even for Bajorans.  They started to perform an odd ritual in the middle of my bar!”  He looked at the glass, seemed satisfied, and set it in front of Chris.  “When a few interrupted them, they turned hostile towards everyone.  Though security got them to leave finally, everyone’s afraid to come into my bar!”

I definitely remember that whining voice of his, Chris thought, trying to keep a smile from creasing his face.

“So any way, what can I get ya?”

Chris narrowed his eyes slightly.  “Do you still not serve tea in here?”

Quark shook his head and shrugged easily.  “Look, the way business is today, I wouldn’t care if you ordered water, so long as you had latinum to pay for it.”

Chris smiled and nodded.  “All right, I’ll have a cup of Earl Gray, hot.”  As Quark moved to comply, he added, “And, uh, charge it to my tab.”

Quark frowned at him.  “You know, you’ve yet to pay all your tabs, Commander…Harriman was it?”

He smiled and nodded.  “Have patience, Quark.  I’m a Starfleet officer, my word is my honor.”

Quark looked Chris up and down, seemed to raise his chin defiantly, then moved to get Chris’s order.

Chris spun his bar stool around to look around the bar, then noticed something he hadn’t expected.  Sitting by them selves in a corner of the bar was Lieutenant Commander Vendar Perkins and Ensign Tal Celes.

When Quark brought his mug of tea, Chris picked it up and moved towards them.  Suddenly, he caught something out of the corner of his eye.  He looked out of the bar into the Promenade…and saw them.

The two noticed that he saw them, so moved away and out of sight.  He stared after them, his heart suddenly beating fast, his mouth going dry.  I don’t believe it…it can’t be!

He noticed someone next to him, so turned to look.  “Chris?” Vendar asked, pure concern on her face.

“Mister Harriman, I’ve had enough trouble today without you causing a mess!” Quark complained, taking out a new rag and moving next to Chris.  Chris just now realized that he’d dropped his mug of tea to the deck, splattering its hot contents all over.

“Commander!” Tal said with equal concern.  They both seemed very worried, like his face was showing emotions he didn’t even know he felt.  All he knew was that he felt dead right now…like a phaser blast set on kill had just hit his chest.  His heart started to clench as the impact of it all hit him.

“Chris, what’s wrong?!” Vendar asked, her hand on his shoulder now.  “I’ve never seen you like this!”

He looked around the gritty bar, getting his bearings again.  “Umm…I’m sorry, Vendar…”  He shook his head and moved away from them, letting Vendar’s hand slide off of his shoulder.  He quickly moved out of the bar, pushing his way through the crowds of people, eliciting many cusses as he went.

I can’t believe they’re here…

Lieutenant Julian Bashir shook his head as he walked through the corridor, reading over a Data PADD while eating an apple.  He took a crunching bite from the fruit while continuing.

These people don’t give up, he thought.  For months after the Dominion War ended, Starfleet had tried to convince him to relocate Earth, where they believe his services would be better used.  They probably thought that he could come up with some medical wonder in their state-of-the-art laboratories.

That wasn’t something he cared about.  Usually he did care about others…but right now, he only cared about staying on this station, with the people he knew.  With Dax…

A sudden thumping sound on the deck ahead caught his attention.  He was coming up to a T-junction, so he guessed that it must have come from around the corner.  Frowning, he picked up the pace a little to get there faster.  Probably a drunkard from the Promenade fell down he guessed.

He came to the T-junction and looked to the right, saw nothing.  When he looked to the left, however, he saw a limp human on the deck, dark skinned.  He quickly moved to the man’s side, only to find him bald, and very familiar.

Julian’s jaw slowly dropped as he pushed the man off of his side and onto his back.  It was him!

“Bashir to transporter room, two to beam directly to sickbay!” he shouted, checking the man’s vital signs.  He had a stable heart beat.

The familiar sensation of transporter overtook him, and in a moment, he was in the medical bay, the limp body on the deck in front of him.  A nurse immediately rushed to his side, pulling out a tricorder…but then paused when he saw who the person was.