Dax’s gaze was that of a formidable Academy professor (was there any other kind?) Sisko had encountered as a very raw Cadet, but her tone had shifted just a bit downward, becoming not gentle but at least not harsh, either.
"The first mistake the leader in a conspiracy usually makes is to assume that what they're plotting is completely their own idea. Now, by that, I don't mean you were brainwashed, given a vision, or anything like that. But getting the Romulans into the war by any and all means was not your independent notion."
"Of course not. It was the goal of all the leaders of the Federation, and likely the Klingons as well. And yes, I was pressed to find an argument or other means to persuade the Romulans to join the Alliance. But surely sanction alone can't make my actions sanctified?"
Jadzia Dax shook her head.
"Nothing can do that, Ben. The blood on the hands of all those named Dax is still on mine. The choices they should never have made, still on my conscience."
"Yet you'd do it all again."
Dax didn't answer this. Instead, she moved on.
"Two people plotted your conspiracy. Only two of them are still alive, and both have kept silent on it in every detail."
"No. Obviously, Garak told someone."
"Really? Are you assuming that, for someone outside to know, either of you had to speak to anyone else?"
Sisko didn't like the implications of that one bit.
"Am I under that kind of surveillance? Is that what you're telling me? Did Kirk say something to you?"
"Well, I can't speak for Starfleet Intelligence, and I certainly can't speak for any of the other allied services. At least not as concerns you, Ben. But my best guess is that I doubt it. Your movements are so public, any spies would be better off catching a daily news recap than attempting to plant bugging equipment that could be found out. But I can speak for all concerned, enemy and ally both, about the certainty of the second party to your conspiracy always being under the closest possible scrutiny."
Sisko felt momentary confusion.
"But Garak was out of the Obsidian Order long before the Dominion even showed up."
Dax counted off.
"Elim Garak is : A former spy, a profession not known for ever truly leaving one's life. He was the publicly known heir and privately known son of the Cardassian Empire's greatest--if slightly overrated--spymaster. Even before the Dominion, he was one of twelve Cardassians known to legally live in or around Federation territory. He was there when almost the entire Obsidian Order and the Alpha Team of the Tal Shayar went down to dust. Ben, do I need to go on? You plotted in secret with the most watched man in three quadrants, and for all we know, the Borg keep an eye on him, to boot!"
Ben remembered a secret rendezvous with Jennifer in Starfleet Headquarters’ famed Clear Tower. They were on its utmost top floor, and well out of sight, so they did as a young couple did. Only later did they realize that, despite its height, the hills of San Francisco conspired with shifting sunlight to make them the snickering talk of everyone who boarded a trolley shuttle that afternoon.
"I might as well have handed my secret logs to Jake."
Who, it should be noted, was conceived that same afternoon, as the embarrassed passionate couple hurriedly ended their lovemaking. But Sisko had another question.
"Old Man, you said the Alpha Team of the Tal Shayar. I don't understand."
She chuckled.
"You want understanding? Our visiting Kirk is married to a half-Romulan, Ben, and even Saavik has no clue about them at times. So here's something to help you understand. Six months or less after Tain's debacle in the Gamma Quadrant, Cardassia had the Detapa Council. So given that Tal Shayar losses were equally ferocious, why wasn't there a similar shift in Romulan society?"
"I--I never really thought about it. I guess I thought it was that Romulans have a much longer history of repression of personal freedoms. Elderly Cardassians alive today may still remember pre-military rule, before the economic disasters that struck them in the 2290's."
"True enough. But remember, Romulans always use a layered approach. When those Tal Shayar agents went out to kill the Founders, they already had their perfectly trained replacements lined up, all the same ages, from the same intelligence academies, and given the same assignments to work on. Romulans always use a layered approach. Like when they tricked you into getting them into this war."
To say that Ben's eyes went wide at these words was a huge understatement.
---
Nog found his reconciliation with Jake at a standstill. The words spoken were simply too odd to be taken in easily.
“What do you mean, resenting you? I thought this was about you forgiving me for all that went on, during and after the Valiant.”
Jake had thought all this out, and was prepared to stand his ground.
“No. Obviously, this all goes a lot deeper. After the Dominion warship went down, I realized that how you went at me couldn’t just be about some high-strung cadets, our views on dating, or even personal discipline. I’m really surprised it took me as long as it did to catch on.”
“Oh? And just what quasi-mystical insight did you stumble into?”
“Nog, I always thought it was all on me. That I was so thrown by the fact you chose the career path I didn’t, that maybe I was seeing conflict where none existed. But while the conflict was real, I wasn’t the one pushing it. I still couldn’t figure out what you resented, though, till I finally put my ego aside once again, and realized the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I dealt pretty early on with the fact that you weren’t going to do like I did, in not joining Starfleet. I dealt with it with so completely, it never once hit me that the inverse was true. Nog, you resent me for not joining Starfleet when you did. You thought somehow that I would reconsider my choice based on yours.”
Nog took this in for a moment.
“Is that it? That’s your big revelation? That’s what you agonized over, and by extension had me agonizing over? Jake, that’s stupid! That sounds like something a writer would come up with.”
“I am a writer.”
“Then come up with a better one, because that little plot twist stinks. Just how is it that I resent you for not joining Starfleet, yet have never once mentioned it?”
Jake folded his arms.
“Until just today, how much of your history with your mother did I know? Huh? Ten percent? Maybe twenty-five? Until you wanted to join Starfleet, how much did any of us know about you wanting to not end up like Rom did, endlessly trying to please a society that already had you labeled? You’re not always the most open person, Nog.”
“It’s still the most preposterous single theory I’ve ever heard. And don’t fold your arms and glare at me, Jake Sisko. You look and sound like a caricature super-female from those absurd early 21st century hu-mon sitcoms. The ones where all the males act like a poor man’s Zek.”
Jake wondered for a moment why everyone he knew was so focused on Earth’s 20th and 21st Centuries, but then let it go.
“Are you saying that I’m wrong?”
“Who needs to say it? You’re so obviously wrong, it’s pathetic. Just like your argument.”
“Then you’re good with my not joining Starfleet?”
Nog shrugged.
“It was your choice.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Well...what does it really matter what I think?”
“Because you’re my best friend.”
Nog realized he had made a slight, inadvertent concession, and tried to back out.
“Ok. Do I think that you might in fact do very well in Starfleet? Yes. But I don’t see where you get this resentment nonsense from.”
“Keep going.”
Nog did, telling himself he was listing facts against Jake’s wild theory.
“You have a lack of discipline, but so do half the cadets that go in there. No one is ever prepared for what they ask. You have a brilliant, creative mind. You can create scenarios that a good Captain could make use of, and you think on your feet. Where you saw yourself blindly running from Doctor Bashir and then the Klingons, I see a man who survived and did manage to trick out a victory. You can’t judge your courage by that first taste of combat. No one knows what it will be like. I sure didn’t.”
Jake held off refuting a single word.
“I’m still listening.”
“I’ll bet you are. Well, listen to this : You’d make a great officer. You may not think so, but it’s in you. You’d be out there–we’d be out there–and you’d be breaking all the puzzles that space has to offer us. You’d be an explorer, finding life and living it, instead of....instead of...”
“Instead of what, Nog?”
Nog was now seething, the success of his friend’s trap all too apparent.
“Writers don’t live life. They observe it. Because they’re afraid of it. And I am sick and tired of facing and dealing with what’s out there alone, all because my supposed best friend was so fearful of the unknown he himself doesn’t create, he has to hide behind a stylus and a PADD. Would it kill you to join me, and see what life is like when you can’t control the outcome?!”
There are words that, once said, can never be taken back. Nog had just spoken such words.
---
"The first mistake the leader in a conspiracy usually makes is to assume that what they're plotting is completely their own idea. Now, by that, I don't mean you were brainwashed, given a vision, or anything like that. But getting the Romulans into the war by any and all means was not your independent notion."
"Of course not. It was the goal of all the leaders of the Federation, and likely the Klingons as well. And yes, I was pressed to find an argument or other means to persuade the Romulans to join the Alliance. But surely sanction alone can't make my actions sanctified?"
Jadzia Dax shook her head.
"Nothing can do that, Ben. The blood on the hands of all those named Dax is still on mine. The choices they should never have made, still on my conscience."
"Yet you'd do it all again."
Dax didn't answer this. Instead, she moved on.
"Two people plotted your conspiracy. Only two of them are still alive, and both have kept silent on it in every detail."
"No. Obviously, Garak told someone."
"Really? Are you assuming that, for someone outside to know, either of you had to speak to anyone else?"
Sisko didn't like the implications of that one bit.
"Am I under that kind of surveillance? Is that what you're telling me? Did Kirk say something to you?"
"Well, I can't speak for Starfleet Intelligence, and I certainly can't speak for any of the other allied services. At least not as concerns you, Ben. But my best guess is that I doubt it. Your movements are so public, any spies would be better off catching a daily news recap than attempting to plant bugging equipment that could be found out. But I can speak for all concerned, enemy and ally both, about the certainty of the second party to your conspiracy always being under the closest possible scrutiny."
Sisko felt momentary confusion.
"But Garak was out of the Obsidian Order long before the Dominion even showed up."
Dax counted off.
"Elim Garak is : A former spy, a profession not known for ever truly leaving one's life. He was the publicly known heir and privately known son of the Cardassian Empire's greatest--if slightly overrated--spymaster. Even before the Dominion, he was one of twelve Cardassians known to legally live in or around Federation territory. He was there when almost the entire Obsidian Order and the Alpha Team of the Tal Shayar went down to dust. Ben, do I need to go on? You plotted in secret with the most watched man in three quadrants, and for all we know, the Borg keep an eye on him, to boot!"
Ben remembered a secret rendezvous with Jennifer in Starfleet Headquarters’ famed Clear Tower. They were on its utmost top floor, and well out of sight, so they did as a young couple did. Only later did they realize that, despite its height, the hills of San Francisco conspired with shifting sunlight to make them the snickering talk of everyone who boarded a trolley shuttle that afternoon.
"I might as well have handed my secret logs to Jake."
Who, it should be noted, was conceived that same afternoon, as the embarrassed passionate couple hurriedly ended their lovemaking. But Sisko had another question.
"Old Man, you said the Alpha Team of the Tal Shayar. I don't understand."
She chuckled.
"You want understanding? Our visiting Kirk is married to a half-Romulan, Ben, and even Saavik has no clue about them at times. So here's something to help you understand. Six months or less after Tain's debacle in the Gamma Quadrant, Cardassia had the Detapa Council. So given that Tal Shayar losses were equally ferocious, why wasn't there a similar shift in Romulan society?"
"I--I never really thought about it. I guess I thought it was that Romulans have a much longer history of repression of personal freedoms. Elderly Cardassians alive today may still remember pre-military rule, before the economic disasters that struck them in the 2290's."
"True enough. But remember, Romulans always use a layered approach. When those Tal Shayar agents went out to kill the Founders, they already had their perfectly trained replacements lined up, all the same ages, from the same intelligence academies, and given the same assignments to work on. Romulans always use a layered approach. Like when they tricked you into getting them into this war."
To say that Ben's eyes went wide at these words was a huge understatement.
---
Nog found his reconciliation with Jake at a standstill. The words spoken were simply too odd to be taken in easily.
“What do you mean, resenting you? I thought this was about you forgiving me for all that went on, during and after the Valiant.”
Jake had thought all this out, and was prepared to stand his ground.
“No. Obviously, this all goes a lot deeper. After the Dominion warship went down, I realized that how you went at me couldn’t just be about some high-strung cadets, our views on dating, or even personal discipline. I’m really surprised it took me as long as it did to catch on.”
“Oh? And just what quasi-mystical insight did you stumble into?”
“Nog, I always thought it was all on me. That I was so thrown by the fact you chose the career path I didn’t, that maybe I was seeing conflict where none existed. But while the conflict was real, I wasn’t the one pushing it. I still couldn’t figure out what you resented, though, till I finally put my ego aside once again, and realized the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I dealt pretty early on with the fact that you weren’t going to do like I did, in not joining Starfleet. I dealt with it with so completely, it never once hit me that the inverse was true. Nog, you resent me for not joining Starfleet when you did. You thought somehow that I would reconsider my choice based on yours.”
Nog took this in for a moment.
“Is that it? That’s your big revelation? That’s what you agonized over, and by extension had me agonizing over? Jake, that’s stupid! That sounds like something a writer would come up with.”
“I am a writer.”
“Then come up with a better one, because that little plot twist stinks. Just how is it that I resent you for not joining Starfleet, yet have never once mentioned it?”
Jake folded his arms.
“Until just today, how much of your history with your mother did I know? Huh? Ten percent? Maybe twenty-five? Until you wanted to join Starfleet, how much did any of us know about you wanting to not end up like Rom did, endlessly trying to please a society that already had you labeled? You’re not always the most open person, Nog.”
“It’s still the most preposterous single theory I’ve ever heard. And don’t fold your arms and glare at me, Jake Sisko. You look and sound like a caricature super-female from those absurd early 21st century hu-mon sitcoms. The ones where all the males act like a poor man’s Zek.”
Jake wondered for a moment why everyone he knew was so focused on Earth’s 20th and 21st Centuries, but then let it go.
“Are you saying that I’m wrong?”
“Who needs to say it? You’re so obviously wrong, it’s pathetic. Just like your argument.”
“Then you’re good with my not joining Starfleet?”
Nog shrugged.
“It was your choice.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Well...what does it really matter what I think?”
“Because you’re my best friend.”
Nog realized he had made a slight, inadvertent concession, and tried to back out.
“Ok. Do I think that you might in fact do very well in Starfleet? Yes. But I don’t see where you get this resentment nonsense from.”
“Keep going.”
Nog did, telling himself he was listing facts against Jake’s wild theory.
“You have a lack of discipline, but so do half the cadets that go in there. No one is ever prepared for what they ask. You have a brilliant, creative mind. You can create scenarios that a good Captain could make use of, and you think on your feet. Where you saw yourself blindly running from Doctor Bashir and then the Klingons, I see a man who survived and did manage to trick out a victory. You can’t judge your courage by that first taste of combat. No one knows what it will be like. I sure didn’t.”
Jake held off refuting a single word.
“I’m still listening.”
“I’ll bet you are. Well, listen to this : You’d make a great officer. You may not think so, but it’s in you. You’d be out there–we’d be out there–and you’d be breaking all the puzzles that space has to offer us. You’d be an explorer, finding life and living it, instead of....instead of...”
“Instead of what, Nog?”
Nog was now seething, the success of his friend’s trap all too apparent.
“Writers don’t live life. They observe it. Because they’re afraid of it. And I am sick and tired of facing and dealing with what’s out there alone, all because my supposed best friend was so fearful of the unknown he himself doesn’t create, he has to hide behind a stylus and a PADD. Would it kill you to join me, and see what life is like when you can’t control the outcome?!”
There are words that, once said, can never be taken back. Nog had just spoken such words.
---
