Prologue
Cardassian Archaeological Outpost
Tyree, Occupied Dominion Territory
February 25, 2523 (Stardate 200151.9)
Gul Tormak watched the Cardassian and Bajoran children play in the street while their parents looked on unconcerned. He was supposed to be writing a report of the outpost’s activities for the Vorta in charge of the former Federation territories but he soon discovered that this supposed group of archaeologists was nothing of the sort. They did not appear to be concerned that he would inform the Vorta of their activities, and they had welcomed him with open arms. What shocked him most was the fact that some of the Cardassians had earrings like the Bajorans, worshippers of the Prophets, the aliens that lived in the Dominion wormhole. He walked cautiously around the children and their parents toward the Administrator’s office, the tallest building in the settlement.
The Administrator’s office was on the top floor but it was empty. ‘Glinn Verlak, I am Gul Tormak of the Ninth Order, where are you?’
‘You’ve arrived, excellent,’ Glinn Verlak responded as he entered the room from an open door to the left. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’
‘Are you aware that you have Cardassians wearing Bajoran religious artifacts?’
‘Actually, they’re Hebitian, but I don’t expect you to understand the difference.’
Tormak simmered. ‘I am a representative of the Dominion government, as are you, and we have a duty to prevent sedition.’
Verlak laughed in his face. ‘We are a peaceful group of religious people who wish to exist outside of the Dominion occupation.’
‘Tyree is under Dominion occupation,’ Tormak said bluntly.
‘New Hebitia is an independent republic, answerable to no one.’
‘This colony will be eradicated with one word to my ship,’ Tormak countered. ‘This rebellion will not go unanswered.’
Verlak turned to the doorway through which he had entered and asked, ‘are you sure he is the right person for the job?’
A cloaked figure emerged from the other room and looked at Gul Tormak, though Tormak could not see his face. ‘He is the one the Prophets have chosen for this task.’
Tormak frowned. ‘I am no tool of the Prophets! I am loyal to the Dominion.’
‘Come, we will see how loyal you are,’ the cloaked man said and returned to the other room.
Verlak gestured for Tormak to precede him and the Cardassian did so, more out of curiosity than anything else. He wondered what the cloaked figure could possibly have to make him change his mind. Tormak was led into a transporter alcove and the three of them dematerialized. They emerged in a dimly lit cavern which Tormak thought was beneath the surface of this desert world but he had no idea where. They continued down a long corridor and into a cavern with a raised altar in the center, upon which stood an ornately-carved bejeweled box, protected by an energy field of some kind. The cloaked figure raised an arm and the energy field vanished.
‘Approach,’ he said.
‘What is this?’ Tormak asked, backing up.
‘Approach,’ the cloaked figure said again.
‘Who are you?’
‘Approach!’ the cloaked figure said for the third time and Verlak gripped Tormak’s arm.
Verlak marched Tormak forward until he was less than a meter away from the box, and then released his arm. The cloaked figure opened the box and stepped away.
Tormak was blinded by the light. He blinked and found himself standing on a rise overlooking Lakarian City on Cardassia Prime. It was pristine, but as he watched the city flashes of light came from above and reduced entire city blocks to rubble. He could hear the screams of people dying, fleeing from the orbital bombardment. He turned away and saw the Founder, the female changeling that controlled the Dominion in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. She was talking to a Vorta, Weyoun, but he couldn’t hear the words. He walked toward them as Lakarian City turned to rubble behind him.
‘Kill the Cardassians,’ the Founder said.
‘Which ones?’ Weyoun asked.
The Founder looked angry, ‘all of them!’
Two Breen soldiers suddenly appeared and looked at him. ‘He will die here,’ one of them said.
‘Cardassia is a loyal member of the Dominion,’ Tormak countered. ‘We would never betray the Founders.’
‘He died here,’ the second Breen said as everything faded to white, leaving just the people he could see.
‘I am alive,’ Tormak yelled.
‘He died here,’ the Founder said as she looked at him.
‘I’m not dead!’ Tormak shouted.
‘He is adversarial, emotional,’ Verlak said as the scene changed to the Administrator’s office on Tyree.
‘Who are you? What is going on?’
‘He died here, every time,’ Verlak said as they stood in the ruins of Lakarian City.
‘Not this time,’ the cloaked figure said. ‘This time he lived. Events have changed.’
‘What events?’ Tormak asked. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘This event still happens,’ the Founder said. ‘But it can be changed. Such is the nature of linear existence.’
‘He doesn’t have to die here,’ the cloaked figure said to the others. ‘I can set things right.’
‘He will not die here,’ Verlak said. ‘It is decided. The game will end elsewhere.’
Tormak dropped to the ground and felt the cavern beneath his feet. He looked up to see Verlak and the cloaked figure as the latter closed the box. ‘What happened?’
‘You had an orb experience,’ Verlak said and turned to the cloaked man. ‘Well?’
‘The Prophets have chosen,’ the cloaked figure replied.
‘Do you know what I saw?’ Tormak said. ‘The Dominion was laying waste to Cardassia. They think we betrayed them.’
‘You did, you will,’ the cloaked figure responded. ‘In another time, another place.’
‘You’re talking in riddles,’ Tormak muttered.
‘He does that sometimes,’ Verlak said with a grin. ‘I guess it comes of living with the Prophets for so long.’
Tormak looked at the cloaked figure in a new light. ‘I thought that was just a superstitious myth the Bajorans liked to believe in.’
‘I assure you, I’m quite real,’ the cloaked figure removed his hood and Tormak saw a bald-headed, dark-skinned human with a Van Dyke goatee. ‘Captain Benjamin Sisko.’
Tormak smirked. ‘Didn’t you die a hundred and fifty years ago on a suicide mission to stop the Dominion coming through the wormhole?’
Sisko shrugged, ‘it worked in another timeline and the Federation won the war. The images you saw of Lakarian City were from that timeline, but the Prophets tell me something similar will happen in this timeline and you would have died there.’
‘Would have?’ Tormak asked.
‘Still might, unless you do what I ask.’
‘What makes you think I won’t go straight to Weyoun and tell him everything?’
‘Because you want to toss that smug little Vorta right out an airlock, preferably with his Jem’Hadar,’ Sisko said.
‘What can I do? I am one man.’
‘I need you to go to Terok Nor and make contact with someone.’
‘Who?’
‘Odo.’
‘You’re asking a lot. He spends a great deal of time with the Founder.’
‘Can you do it?’
‘If I have sufficient incentive,’ Tormak replied. ‘It could get me killed.’
Sisko looked pensive. ‘That is possible, but unlikely. All I can offer is governorship of your own planet in eleven months, if you survive.’
Tormak looked at Sisko as if he had lost his mind. ‘How can you possibly offer me that?’
‘In eleven months, the Founder will surrender to me on Terok Nor and the Dominion will return to the Gamma Quadrant.’
‘You seem awfully sure of yourself, for a dead man.’
‘I know that fact for a certainty. I have seen it in my own visions. And the Prophets are never wrong.’
‘All I have to do is make contact with Odo?’
‘For now.’
Tormak sighed. ‘What message do I give him?’
‘Tell him I’m coming to get my baseball. He’ll know what it means.’
Tormak nodded. ‘I assume that you want this done as soon as possible?’
‘It will take as long as it takes,’ Sisko replied. ‘Other parts of the plan are already set in motion.’
