Odo: Morn, if you're not too busy, I'd appreciate it if you did something about that shipment of Livanian beets you have sitting in Cargo Bay Three. It's been there for over two weeks. It's starting to rot.
Odo: Morn.
Quark: It's a hologram. Morn's been away on business for the last two weeks. You're slipping, Odo. You should've caught on a lot sooner.
Odo: You replaced Morn with a hologram? Why?
O'Brien: Evening.
Bashir: Hello, Morn.
Quark: That's why. People love him. He's like a mascot. Everyone who comes in here expects to see him, and if they don't, it doesn't feel like home to them.
Odo: And that's not good for business.
Quark: The last time he went away, my sales dropped almost five percent.
Odo: Why doesn't it talk?
Quark: Do you have any idea how much an interactive holoprojector costs? Besides, it's a relief not to have to listen to him go on. You know Morn. He never shuts up. I'd trade this for the real thing any day.
Odo: I'm sure Morn would be very touched to hear you say that.
Dax: Morn!
Odo: It's just a hologram.
Quark: You look like you saw a ghost.
Sisko: Turn it off.
Quark: Why?
Sisko: We just got word. Morn's cargo ship was caught in an ion storm.
Bashir: Is he all right?
O'Brien: Was he rescued?
Dax: He's dead.
Bashir: Did you bring anything?
O'Brien: Huh?
Bashir: To the memorial service.
O'Brien: I didn't know I was supposed to.
Bashir: Well, it's Lurian custom to bring gifts of food and drink for the deceased so they have something to sustain them in the afterlife.
O'Brien: Oh. Maybe I can get something in Quark's. I hate to think of the big fellow going without.
Worf: Morn was an excellent sparring partner. I will miss our weekly combat in the holosuites.
Dax: I can't believe he's really gone.
Worf: I did not realize he was such a close friend.
Dax: Well, I used to have a little crush on him.
Worf: Morn?
Dax: It was before we met. Besides, he wasn't interested.
Worf: What do you mean, he wasn't interested?
Dax: Forget I mentioned it.
Kira: Is that a bottle opener?
Odo: For Morn. I thought it might come in handy.
Kira: Very thoughtful.
Quark: This is unbelievable. Look at all these people. If you see anyone empty-handed sell them a bottle of Yridian ale. Tell them it was Morn's favorite.
Bashir: Very kind of you to do this, Quark.
O'Brien: I'm sure Morn would have appreciated it.
Quark: It's the least I could do. I'll miss him. Sorry.
O'Brien: Can I get you anything?
Quark: I don't ordinarily imbibe on the job, but maybe a Yridian ale. It was Morn's favorite.
O'Brien: Oh. Perfect.
Quark: What are you looking at?
Odo: Your respect for the dead is heart-warming.
Quark: I'll have you know that Morn died without paying this month's tab.
Odo: Oh, how inconsiderate of him.
Quark: We're talking about a lot of money. The man had quite an appetite. You know he had two stomachs to fill. Ever watch him eat? It was a beautiful thing.
Odo: Well, sometimes you don't truly appreciate what you have until it's gone.
Quark: It's nice to know you're so worried about my welfare.
Odo: You should be worried, too. Now that your mascot's gone, business will suffer.
Quark: We'll see. You might be surprised.
Worf: Jadzia.
Dax: Can we please drop this?
Quark: Everyone. Thank you all for coming. It means a great deal to me to see so many people cared about Morn as much as I did. I'll never forget the first time he walked in here and sat down on that very stool. It must have been almost ten years ago. He still had his hair then. I thought he was just another customer passing through. Little did I know he'd become such an important figure in my life, in all our lives. Morn was always someone we could count on for a cheerful smile and an entertaining story. Some of you might be thinking this place won't be the same without him. And it won't. But this was his home. And wherever he is, I'm sure he'd want to know that his favorite bar still echoed with the laughter of his dear friends. This was his chair and I think the greatest tribute we could ever pay him would be to make sure that it's never empty.
Quark: Keep it warm. For Morn.
Kira: Every now and then, Quark really surprises me.
Odo: Me, too.
Sisko: Excuse me, Quark.
Quark: Not now.
Sisko: I'm sorry to intrude, but I thought you should know. I unsealed Morn's will. He left everything to you.
Quark: Me? He left everything to me?
Sisko: That's right.
Quark: Morn. Dear, sweet Morn.
Odo: The poor fool actually believed you cared about him.
Quark: I did. I was up for hours last night thinking about him.
Odo: Calculating his net worth, no doubt.
Quark: We spent a lot of time together, Odo. We were obviously a lot closer than I ever realized.
Odo: His financial records.
Quark: Is this some kind of joke?
Odo: What do you mean?
Quark: According to this, he was broke.
Odo: No.
Quark: How can that be? He paid his bar bill at the end of every month. That kind of money must have come from somewhere.
Odo: Well, he did have his shipping business. Maybe all his assets are tied up in inventory?
Quark: Of course. Inventory.
Quark: I'll unload everything and use the profits to Pooh! What's that smell?
Odo: Your inheritance. Livanian beets. Very ripe.
Quark: What's in the rest of these?
Odo: More beets.
Quark: That's it? That's all he had?
Odo: I'm afraid so. Except for the contents of his quarters. Maybe he spent all his money on furnishings and works of art.
Quark: Objets d'art. Of course.
Odo: Objets d'art, of course.
Quark: I'll hold an auction. People will pay a premium to own something that used to be Morn's.
Quark: You sure these are the right quarters?
Odo: I'm sure.
Quark: Figures. What's that?
Odo: That, I believe, is a matador.
Quark: No, that.
Odo: That's Morn's bed.
Quark: Morn slept in mud?
Odo: I'm told it's excellent for the skin.
Quark: Thanks, Morn. Just what I always wanted.
Quark: What are you doing in my mud?
Larell: Oh, I couldn't resist. Morny and I had so many happy times here, I just had to slip in. I'm sorry if I startled you. I heard you coming in and I thought I'd better hide.
Quark: Who are you?
Larell: Larell. Morn's wife. Ex-wife.
Quark: Morn was married? To you?
Larell: For two wonderful years. You must be Quark. Morny and I kept in touch after we were separated. He talked about you all the time.
Quark: That's nice.
Larell: He told me that if anything ever happened to him, he wanted you to have everything that was ever his.
Quark: Everything?
Larell: Everything.
Quark: I'm glad you came by, because Morny didn't leave me much of anything else.
Larell: I find that hard to believe.
Quark: I'm as disappointed as you are.
Larell: I happen to know that he had quite a substantial retirement fund. One that could make two people very comfortable.
Quark: If you're partial to mud, it's comfortable all right.
Larell: I'm talking about the thousand bricks of gold pressed latinum that he won in the Lissepian lottery.
Quark: A thousand bricks?
Larell: Now that he's gone, it's all ours.
Larell: What are you doing?
Quark: What do you think? I'm looking for the latinum.
Larell: You must know where he kept it.
Quark: I didn't even know it existed until you told me.
Larell: Well, I'm sure it's somewhere on the station.
Quark: How do we know he didn't spend it already?
Larell: I told you, it was for his retirement. Poor Morn. He never got a chance to enjoy it. But that doesn't mean we can't.
Quark: I know what you're doing.
Larell: What am I doing?
Quark: Just so we're clear, the latinum's mine.
Larell: He may have left everything to you, but I was his wife. I could contest the will and tie you up in court for years.
Quark: Maybe.
Larell: But there's no reason it has to come to that. After all, a thousand bricks is plenty for both of us.
Quark: It is a lot of money.
Larell: And as soon as we find it, we'll take a nice long vacation together.
Quark: Morn would have wanted it that way.
Larell: Of course he would have.
Quark: The latinum's not on the station. I looked everywhere. Evade. I even had my brother scan for it with the internal sensors.
Dax: Well, at least you have the painting.
Quark: Oh, forget the painting. I want that latinum.
Dax: If you think it'll make you happy. Confront.
Quark: Believe me, it will. This is the break I've been waiting for, and it's been a long time in coming. I want Morn's money, I need Morn's money, I deserve Morn's money.
Dax: Your move.
Quark: Beautiful, isn't it? And the way it picks up the light I wonder who came up with the idea of suspending liquid latinum inside worthless bits of gold?
Dax: Probably somebody who got tired of making change with an eyedropper. Are you going to play or not?
Quark: Where do you think Morn put it all?
Dax: If you find it, are you really going to share it with this woman?
Quark: I agreed to pay her ten percent so she wouldn't tie me up in court.
Dax: That's a hundred bricks.
Quark: What could I do? Retreat.
Dax: I don't know, but there's something's I don't like about this whole thing. I don't trust this woman.
Quark: Neither do I. But that doesn't mean I'm going to keep her away from my lobes.
Dax: Just keep your eyes open. Don't be fooled by a pretty face.
Quark: Not me.
Dax: Of course not. Acquire.
Quark: What a pleasant surprise. Computer, lights.
Krit: Tell me, you like surprises, Quark?
Quark: Only pleasant ones.
Krit: I like to think I'm pleasant. You think I'm pleasant?
Nahsk: Absolutely.
Krit: Then I guess this qualifies as a pleasant surprise.
Quark: What are you doing in my quarters?
Nahsk: Waiting for you.
Krit: My brother and I were business associates of Morn's.
Quark: If you've come for the memorial service, it was yesterday.
Nahsk: Really? Was it nice?
Quark: It was lovely.
Krit: I understand you inherited Morn's estate.
Quark: That's right.
Nahsk: We're business associates of Morn's.
Quark: Your brother mentioned that.
Krit: He borrowed some money from us, and we'd like the estate to repay the loan.
Quark: How much money are we talking about?
Krit: One thousand bricks of gold pressed latinum.
Quark: I had a feeling you were going to say that. I need to see some documentation regarding this loan.
Krit: We shook hands.
Nahsk: We trusted Morn.
Krit: And I'm sure he'd want you to honor his word.
Quark: I'm sure he would. But you have to understand, Morn's assets are all tied up in various enterprises.
Krit: I hope you're not saying you don't have the money.
Nahsk: That wouldn't be good.
Quark: All I meant was that it'll take me a little while to get it.
Krit: So you do know where it is.
Quark: Of course. You're not the first creditors to make a claim against his estate.
Krit: We're not?
Quark: Morn was expanding his business interests when he died. His resources were stretched somewhat thin. As a result, the claims against the estate are greater than its assets. Obviously you can't expect full repayment.
Krit: What can we expect?
Quark: A percentage.
Krit: What sort of percentage?
Quark: Twenty.
Krit: We can't accept less than eighty.
Quark: I'll make it thirty, and I'll throw in a shipment of Livanian beets.
Nahsk: I don't like beets.
Krit: We'll take seventy.
Quark: Forty, and because I can see you both have fine taste, I'm willing to part with this. One of Morn's most treasured possession. Beautiful, isn't it?
Nahsk: Very nice.
Krit: We can't take less than sixty.
Quark: Forty's the best I can do.
Krit: Fifty.
Quark: Sorry.
Quark: Fifty it is.
Krit: I'm glad we were able to come to an understanding.
Quark: Me too.
Krit: We'll be watching you, Quark. Don't try anything.
Quark: Me? Don't be ridiculous.
Quark: What do we have here?
Quark: Computer, what is this?
Computer: A claim slip for storage locker one three seven located in the station Assay Office.
Quark: A storage locker! Thank you, computer. You've been very helpful. Morn, wherever you are, I love you!
Quark: What do you mean I have to open it in here?
Odo: Regulations. The contents of a deceased person's storage locker have to be inspected by station security.
Quark: There's no such regulation. You just want to know what's inside. You are so transparent. I can't wait to see your face when your deputies wheel in my thousand bricks of latinum.
Odo: Ah, here we are. Thank you.
Quark: That can't be it.
Odo: Storage locker one thirty seven.
Quark: Well, sometimes good things come in small packages.
Odo: Will that be enough to cover Morn's bar tab?
Quark: It's covered. There's more where this came from.
Odo: What makes you say that?
Quark: Take a look. On the bottom. Recognize Morn's handwriting?
Odo: The rest is in the Bank of Bolias.
Quark: Account number CJ5-74-36.
Odo: This wasn't in Morn's financial records.
Quark: Who cares? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to contact the bank and let them know Morn's legal heir would like his latinum delivered as soon as possible.
Quark: Larell.
Larell: I've been looking all over for you.
Quark: I'm a busy man.
Larell: Not too busy to look for a certain something, I hope?
Quark: Actually, I haven't had much luck with that.
Larell: Sounds like you need a little motivation.
Quark: Oh, I'm motivated, believe me. It's just that it's going to take some time to locate, that's all. I have an idea. Why don't you go back to wherever you come from and I'll contact you as soon as I find it.
Larell: I think I'd rather wait here with you.
Quark: This is not a good time for oo-mox.
Larell: Why, don't you like it?
Quark: It's not that, it's just that the sooner I find that certain something, the sooner we can take our little trip together.
Larell: You're so diligent. Most men don't know how to defer gratification.
Quark: You don't make it easy.
Quark: Good morning. Level seventeen.
Quark: You're good. But I'm the only one the bank's going to give the money to. CJ5-74-36. CJ5-74
Quark: This is my stop.
Krit: What's your hurry? My brother has something he wants to say to you.
Nahsk: I'm sorry. About the painting.
Krit: He feels terrible.
Quark: No hard feelings.
Krit: That's nice of you to be so forgiving, Quark.
Quark: Don't mention it.
Krit: My brother has a nasty temper.
Nahsk: I get upset.
Krit: It comes out when things don't go our way.
Quark: I noticed.
Krit: That's why I'm hoping things start to go our way soon. Do you understand what I'm saying, Quark?
Quark: I think I do, yes.
Nahsk: I don't like to get upset.
Quark: Don't worry, things are going to go your way soon.
Krit: That's good to hear.
Quark: I'll keep in touch.
Nahsk: I really am sorry about the painting.
Quark: CJ5-74-36. CJ5-74-36. Bank of Bolias.
Hain: Making a withdrawal, Quark? Let me guess. A thousand bricks of gold pressed latinum. Put your hands on your head. Turn around.
Quark: All right, how much do you want? And don't ask for the full thousand bricks, I already gave away more than half of it.
Hain: Attempted bribery. That should add a few years to your sentence.
Quark: What are you talking about?
Hain: Let's go.
Quark: Go? Where? Who are you?
Hain: Lurian security. I have a signed extradition order for your arrest. As soon as your station's security chief approves it, we'll be on our way.
Quark: What did I do? What's the charge?
Hain: Conspiracy to intercept government property.
Quark: Government property?
Hain: A thousand bricks of gold pressed latinum.
Quark: Wait a minute. Morn won that latinum in the Lissepian lottery. He didn't?
Hain: It was his bequest from the Royal family of Luria.
Quark: Why would the Royal family of Luria give Morn that kind of money?
Hain: He was the Crown Prince.
Quark: Morn was a prince?
Hain: You didn't know?
Quark: Morn was a prince?
Hain: That's what I'm saying.
Quark: Morn was a prince.
Hain: Yes. But he renounced the throne when he came of age.
Quark: Well I always knew he was an idiot.
Hain: His family bequeathed him the latinum when he abdicated. Now that he's deceased, it's legally theirs again.
Quark: He left it to me.
Hain: That will has already been nullified. He signed an agreement to return the latinum in the event of his death.
Quark: Oh. Do me a favor. Don't tell his ex-wife. I'm going to need a little oo-mox later.
Hain: His ex-wife?
Quark: Larell.
Hain: She's here?
Quark: I just saw her. Is something wrong?
Hain: Quiet! Let me think. Listen and listen carefully. Larell has been trying to get her hands on the Prince's latinum for years. She's tried blackmail, extortion, I wouldn't be surprised if she was behind his death.
Quark: She's always been nice to me.
Hain: The Royal family would like nothing better than to see her behind bars. If you help me apprehend her, there'll be a substantial reward.
Quark: What do I have to do?
Hain: When are you going to see her again?
Quark: She'll turn up sooner or later. If not her, then those two brothers.
Hain: Brothers?
Quark: They said they were Morn's business partners. They claimed he owed them money. Something tells me they were not exactly above board.
Hain: Whoever these brothers are, I promise you, I won't let them get between the Royal family and its latinum.
Quark: And I won't let anything get between me and my reward.
Hain: Then we have an understanding. If I'm going to put these people away, I have to catch them trying to get their hands on the latinum. Call the Bank. Tell them to deliver it here.
Quark: Then what?
Hain: You stay out of sight and leave the rest to me.
Bashir: What are you up to?
O'Brien: Trying to fix this optronic relay.
Bashir: Wouldn't you be better off working in a lab?
O'Brien: I'm keeping Morn's chair warm.
Bashir: Ah, good man. Where's Quark? I'm in the mood for one of his famous Til'amin froths.
O'Brien: You'll have to settle for something else. He's in the back. And from what Broik says, he's not coming out.
Bashir: Sounds like he's taking Morn's death pretty hard.
O'Brien: He loved the guy. Well, I'd better go test this.
Bashir: I'll take over.
O'Brien: Oh. Good man.
Quark: Anybody here?
Quark: What a surprise.
Larell: You've got to help me, Quark. Someone's following me.
Quark: Who?
Larell: Two men.
Quark: Brothers?
Larell: How should I know?
Quark: That could be them.
Larell: Don't answer it.
Quark: Believe me, I'm not planning to. Sounds like they're trying to bypass the lock. Come on. Computer, dim the lights. Remind me to invest in a better lock.
Quark: Stay here.
Quark: Gentlemen.
Krit: Quark. We've been looking all over for you.
Quark: The latinum's on its way. It'll be here tomorrow.
Krit: That's good news. We were getting worried.
Krit: Expecting anyone?
Quark: You never know who's going to drop by.
Krit: Don't answer it.
Quark: Sounds like they're coming in anyway.
Nahsk: You should invest in a better lock.
Krit: Whoever it is, get rid of them. We'll be over there.
Quark: You'd be more comfortable in there.
Nahsk: We'll be back there.
Hain: Why didn't you answer the door?
Quark: I dozed off. It's been one of those days.
Hain: We need to talk.
Quark: What would we have need to talk about?
Hain: Are you all right?
Quark: What makes you ask that?
Hain: Well, you keep craning your neck.
Krit: Well look what we have here.
Quark: I'll bet the Royal family sleeps soundly knowing you're on the job.
Krit: Royal family? What kind of lies you been telling him, Hain?
Hain: The usual.
Quark: You know each other.
Hain: It's been a long time.
Krit: Nine years.
Nahsk: You know, it must be nine years.
Hain: I see you're still a step behind everyone else.
Larell: Leave him alone, Hain.
Nahsk: Hey, it's Larell.
Krit: I can see that.
Quark: What's going on here?
Larell: We're having a little reunion. We used to work together. With Morn.
Quark: I guess that means he wasn't a Prince after all. And you're not a security agent. And you're not really his ex-wife. Please, please don't tell me Morn didn't have any latinum.
Hain: Oh, he had latinum, all right.
Quark: At least that part is true.
Hain: Ever hear of the Lissepian Mother's Day heist?
Quark: Who hasn't? While the whole planet was celebrating, someone broke into the Central Bank and made off with one thousand bricks of gold pressed latinum. Wait a minute. You expect me to believe that the four of you pulled that off?
Nahsk: There was five of us. Morn helped.
Krit: Yes, but then he ran off with the latinum.
Quark: Why did you take so long to come after him?
Hain: Because we knew he'd stashed it away somewhere to wait for the statute of limitations to expire.
Larell: And it did, two weeks ago.
Nahsk: You see, we can't be prosecuted anymore.
Larell: So here we are. The latinum's en route. Maybe we should just split it up and go our separate ways.
Quark: The voice of reason.
Krit: Not you, us.
Hain: Krit's right, we don't need him anymore.
Larell: So, what do we do with him?
Krit: It should look like an accident. We don't want anyone asking questions.
Quark: Wait a minute. You can't kill me. I'm the only one who can take delivery of the latinum. You need my thumbprint.
Nahsk: If you stand still this won't hurt as much.
Hain: Wait a minute. What do you propose, Nahsk? That we walk into the cargo bay with his bloody thumb and ask for the latinum? We need him. The only question is what happens after he takes delivery?
Quark: We could split the latinum five ways. That's what you would've gotten if Morn was still alive.
Larell: That's true.
Quark: Think of me as Morn. I can't believe I just said that.
Nahsk: This isn't fair. We stole it. He had nothing to do with it.
Quark: Maybe not, but the bottom line is you need me.
Hain: A thousand bricks of latinum split five ways. What do you think?
Krit: It's still a lot of latinum.
Nahsk: That's two hundred and fifty bricks each.
Quark: So, do we have a deal?
Hain: All right.
Quark: Okay. The Bolian transport arrives tomorrow at sixteen hundred. We'll meet at the cargo bay.
Hain: We're staying together until it gets here.
Quark: We are?
Hain: I don't trust you, and I certainly don't trust them.
Quark: I see your point. But I have a bar to run.
Hain: All right.
Hain: To your hospitality.
Quark: Don't mention it.
Larell: So this was Morn's favorite place?
Quark: He used to sit right there.
Nahsk: That's not very smart, sitting with your back to the door.
Quark: He was the trusting type.
Hain: Which one of you killed him, anyway?
Krit: It wasn't us.
Larell: Me neither.
Quark: Don't look at me.
Hain: Then it really was an accident.
Larell: Poor Morny. He always had such bad luck.
Hain: Get rid of him.
Quark: We're closed.
Odo: At this hour?
Quark: Friends of Morn. We're commiserating.
Odo: I see. And how long are you going to be closed?
Quark: Oh, until about sixteen hundred hours tomorrow. We have a lot to commiserate about.
Odo: I see.
Quark: Where were we?
Quark: There it is, right on time. I believe that's for me.
Hain: Open it.
Quark: I'll count it
Quark: All right, somebody else count it.
Krit: Put it down, Hain. My brother may be slow, but if you pull that trigger, he'll kill you.
Nahsk: I'm not slow.
Krit: Nahsk? What are you doing?
Krit: We're family. Just put the gun down.
Quark: Go ahead, kill each other.
Odo: Security! Drop your weapons! This is your last warning. I said drop them.
Larell: I surrender.
Odo: Take her to a holding cell. Get the rest of them to the Infirmary.
Odo: Ah, there you are.
Quark: Are they gone?
Odo: From now on, you'll be commiserating alone. All your friends are going to prison.
Quark: For how long?
Odo: Assault with intent to kill? Long enough.
Quark: Then it's mine, all mine.
Quark: What you're about to hear is the most beautiful sound in the galaxy.
Quark: That can't be! There's no latinum in these bricks!
Odo: What?
Quark: Someone's extracted all the latinum. There's nothing here but worthless gold.
Odo: And it's all yours.
Quark: No! No! No!
Odo: Quark. Quark!
Quark: What? What do you want?
Odo: There's someone here to see you.
Quark: I thought you said they were all going to prison.
Odo: You'd better sit down.
Quark: Morn?
Odo: Alive and well. Apparently, he faked his own death. I'll let him tell you all about it.
Quark: Well? No! I don't want to hear it. Not one word. You set me up. You left the latinum to me because you knew I would do whatever it would take to get my hands on it. You figured I could keep the four of them off balance long enough for them to turn on themselves. This whole thing was a scam to get them off your back, wasn't it.
Quark: I could have been killed, you know. And I thought we were friends. I have to admit, I didn't suspect for a minute. To tell you the truth, I didn't think you had it in you to pull off something like this. I just have one question for you. What happened to the latinum?
Quark: Of course. Your second stomach. You've been keeping it in your second stomach all these years? That's a lot of latinum. No wonder your hair fell out.
Quark: For me? That must be a hundred bricks worth. I don't know what to say. Thanks. Not that I didn't earn it after all you put me through. If you ever want to set me up again, feel free. You know, you and I should consider doing business together. Two enterprising gentlemen like us could do all right for ourselves. Take that gold dust of yours. It doesn't have to be a total loss. I hear there're some primitive cultures who consider it quite valuable.


Scene: Captain's log, stardate 51474.2. The Defiant has been ordered to investigate a rare subspace compression phenomenon recently diskovered in Federation space. This scientific assignment is a welcome change from months of combat duty against the Dominion. Three of my officers are taking a runabout into the anomaly's vortex. The runabout and it's crew will be subjected to severe spatial distortion, so we have activated a tractor beam to minimize the effect.
Kira: So, how small are they?
Nog: The miniaturization process won't begin until the runabout reaches the edge of the accretion disk.
Kira: I see. And then they'll begin to shrink?
Nog: Yes, sir.
Sisko: Major, are you laughing at our investigation of this subspace anomaly?
Kira: No, sir.
Worf: The data collected here could provide Starfleet with the key to creating transwarp corridors through space. It could give us a substantial tactical advantage over the Dominion.
Kira: It's very important research. What? I'm not laughing. Just because we are shrinking three people to the size of coffee cups.
Nog: Smaller, actually.
Worf: I do not see what is so humorous about being small.
Nog: Neither do I.
Sisko: On screen.
Nog: Their visual signal's degrading, Captain. We have audio only.
Sisko: Go ahead, Rubicon.
Dax: We're about to enter the accretion disk.
Sisko: I wish were with you, old man.
Dax: I'll send you a postcard. Tell Worf I look forward to hearing his poem. I'll bet it'll be inspiring. We'll talk to you again once we've left the accretion disk and reversed the effects of the compression. Rubicon out.
Sisko: Good luck, Rubicon.
Nog: We've lost their signal, Captain.
Sisko: Thank you, Ensign. Mister Worf. Poem?
Worf: It is an ancient Klingon tradition to commemorate an important event with a poem. Jadzia asked me to compose one for this occasion.
Sisko: Well, what have you got so far?
Nog: They've penetrated the accretion disk.
Kira: Now is it my imagination, or did the kid just cover for him?
Sisko: This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Worf: They are getting smaller.
Nog: Even the space within their subatomic structure is shrinking.
Kira: I wonder what it feels like.
O'Brien: I don't feel any smaller.
Bashir: Well, believe it or not, you're about a meter tall and shrinking fast. In a few minutes, you're going to be half the size of a comm. badge.
O'Brien: There's a comforting thought.
Bashir: The gamma ray flux is increasing. We should close the blast shutters.
Dax: Take a last look. We're on sensors from here on.
O'Brien: Now you're certain we'll return to normal size once we clear the anomaly?
Dax: Our probes did. You saw the data. Something wrong?
O'Brien: No, I'm fine. I'm just not in love with the idea of being small. What are you smirking at? You're as small as I am.
Bashir: Actually, you're sitting one point one four meters closer to the focal point of the anomaly, which means you've shrunk point zero four percent more than I have.
Dax: What was that?
O'Brien: The tractor beam's fluctuating. Something's wrong.
Worf: The Jem'Hadar are coming around for another pass.
Kira: Radiation from the vortex must have masked their warp signature.
Sisko: Return fire, Mister Worf. Ensign, pull the Rubicon out of there.
Worf: Phasers are offline.
Kira: We're a sitting duck as long as we're tethered to the runabout.
Sisko: I'm not going to leave them in there if I can help it. Mister Worf, go down to auxiliary control and target the phasers manually.
Worf: Aye, sir.
Nog: I'm losing the Rubicon, sir!
Dax: If we're going to get out of here, I need warp power now!
O'Brien: I'm on it.
Sisko: Report.
Kira: Shield generators and impulse engines are offline, sir. Warp engines, too.
Ixtana'Rax: Surrender or you will all be killed.
Dax: Chief, you okay?
O'Brien: I think so.
Dax: Julian?
Bashir: I'm fine, but you're not.
Dax: Oh, that's better.
O'Brien: That was the easy part.
Dax: Well, the good news is we're alive, so we must have escaped the anomaly.
O'Brien: The bad news is the external sensors and the comm. system are down. I can patch around most of the damage, but it'll take time.
Dax: Better add the blast shutters to your list. I can't get them open.
Bashir: There you go. Good as new.
Dax: I don't suppose that thing'll work on our communications system?
O'Brien: I'm picking up the Defiant's transponder signal. We can home in on that.
Dax: Going to one quarter impulse. Chief, either open these shutters or give me external sensors, whichever's quicker. I need to see where we're going.
Ixtana'Rax: The bridge is secure.
Kudak'Etan: Tactical report.
Ixtana'Rax: The bridge officers are confined in the mess hall, other survivors in the cargo bay. We will have impulse power back online in thirty minutes, but it will take several hours to restore warp capability.
Kudak'Etan: It must be gratifying for an Elder to end his career with a victory. I feel privileged to be here with you at such a moment.
Ixtana'Rax: There is still much to do before we declare victory. Until we leave Federation space, we are vulnerable
Kudak'Etan: I am First. And I have declared victory.
Ixtana'Rax: It is, of course, your prerogative.
Kudak'Etan: Open a channel to the Vorta.
Jem'Hadar: Yes, First.
Jem'Hadar: We have the boarding party.
Gelnon: Ah, First. Your report?
Kudak'Etan: The Defiant is ours.
Gelnon: Good. Very, very good. I must admit, I was initially quite skeptical about you and the other new Jem'Hadar bred in this quadrant, but this is a most impressive debut. Wouldn't you agree, Elder?
Ixtana'Rax: The takeover of the ship was competently executed.
Gelnon: Do I detect a note of jealousy in your voice? I'm sure it must be difficult for you to watch a new race of Jem'Hadar beginning to supplant you and the other members of the old guard.
Ixtana'Rax: I serve the Founders. If it is their will to create a new race, then that is the order of things.
Gelnon: But?
Ixtana'Rax: But the Jem'Hadar bred here in the Alpha Quadrant have not proven themselves superior to those from the Gamma Quadrant. At least not yet.
Kudak'Etan: Not yet? It was the Alphas who made this victory possible. If it were not for us, you would never
Gelnon: You two can argue about this on your own time. First, how long until you restore warp power?
Kudak'Etan: I will make a complete survey of the ship and give you a report in one hour.
Gelnon: Very well. I await your report.
Kudak'Etan: Bring me Captain Sisko.
Ixtana'Rax: I would suggest that his execution can wait until we have completed repairs to the ship.
Kudak'Etan: I'm not going to execute him. Are you about to question my order, Second?
Ixtana'Rax: No. Obedience brings Victory.
Kudak'Etan: And Victory is Life.
Kudak'Etan: Find the ship's transponder and shut it down. I don't want anyone tracking us.
Jem'Hadar: Yes, First.
Kudak'Etan: And get these chairs off the bridge.
Kira: Thanks. That's enough.
Worf: I should have foreseen this. I should have sent out reconnaissance probes to scan for enemy ships. Or a shuttle. Or recalibrated our sensors. If I had, Jadzia
Nog: None of that would've done any good. The Jem'Hadar approached us from the anterior angle of the anomaly. Their warp signatures
Kira: He's just trying to tell you
Worf: I do not need him to tell me anything.
Sisko: Everybody settle. First of all, we don't know what happened to the Rubicon. For all we know they got out of the anomaly on their own. If they did, they're headed home and in much better shape than we are. So let's hold off on analyzing our mistakes for now.
Kira: If they restore warp power, we'll be analyzing them from inside a Dominion prison camp.
Sisko: Restoring warp power might not be so simple for them. It took us a week just to learn how to pilot one of their ships. We might have a chance to retake the Defiant, but we can't do anything unless we can get out of this room. Suggestions?
Ixtana'Rax: Captain Sisko, come with me.
Sisko: Everybody sit tight. I'll be back.
Bashir: We've lost the Defiant's transponder signal.
Dax: Coming to full stop.
O'Brien: The problem isn't at this end. They must have stopped transmitting.
Dax: I can't keep flying blind, Chief.
O'Brien: Try the shutters.
Dax: Nice work.
O'Brien: Ask and ye shall receive.
O'Brien: What the hell is that?
Dax: Some kind of wall?
O'Brien: In the middle of nowhere?
Bashir: Wait a minute, there's a symbol up there. It looks like a large black circle.
Dax: Anything else?
Bashir: Hold on. Chief, you're not going to like this.
O'Brien: I thought you said we'd return to our normal size once we left the anomaly.
Bashir: We should have.
Dax: We didn't leave the anomaly by the same path at which we entered it.
Bashir: So the process failed to reverse itself.
O'Brien: Are you telling me that I'm going to be this bloody tall for the rest of my life?
Bashir: This bloody tall, actually. But don't worry. All we have to do to regain our original size is re-enter the anomaly and follow our original trajectory back out.
O'Brien: In theory.
Bashir: In theory.
Dax: I'll tell you what isn't a theory. We're going to need the Defiant's help to re-enter the anomaly.
Bashir: With communications out, how do we get their attention?
Dax: Fly up to a window and knock?
O'Brien: Wait. If we're this big, that means the Rubicon is what, this big?
Bashir: More or less.
O'Brien: And the Defiant's aft plasma vent is this big?
Dax: Are you suggesting that we take the Rubicon inside the Defiant?
O'Brien: Why not? Getting past the anti-backflow valve might be tricky, but once we're inside we've a better chance of attracting someone's attention than we do sitting out here.
Dax: I love it. Let's go.
Lamat'Ukan: The engineering team reports that we can restart the impulse engines in twelve minutes.
Kudak'Etan: Good. Captain Benjamin Sisko. The one the Bajorans call the Emissary. I am First Kudak'Etan. In a strange way, you are the reason I exist. If you had not eliminated our fleet in the wormhole, there would have been no need to breed Alpha Quadrant Jem'Hadar.
Sisko: You didn't bring me here to say thank you.
Kudak'Etan: No. The impulse engines sustained only minor damage in our attack, but the warp drive was severely damaged. I need your technical expertise in order to repair it. Bring Captain to the engine room so he may begin necessary repairs.
Ixtana'Rax: It's a mistake. Giving him access to the engine room will only give him an opportunity to retake the ship. In fact, he's working on a plan at this very moment.
Kudak'Etan: I was not aware that telepathy was a Gamma characteristic.
Ixtana'Rax: I know what he's thinking because it's exactly what I would be doing in his position. You should kill him now, before he has a chance to put his plan into motion.
Kudak'Etan: You are the Second. I am the First. Do not presume to tell me what to do.
Sisko: I'm glad the two of you worked that out. Now, what makes you think I'm going to help you?
Kudak'Etan: Your choice is to repair the warp drive or watch me execute your crew one at a time. Have Sixth Duran'Adar select one of the prisoners for execution and bring him to the bridge!
Sisko: I can't do this job alone. I'm going to need some of my crew.
Kudak'Etan: How many?
Ixtana'Rax: I strongly suggest that you refuse this request.
Sisko: You have the weapons. Are you afraid you can't handle a few unarmed prisoners?
Ixtana'Rax: I won't be baited by a prisoner, and neither should you.
Sisko: Okay. I'm in no hurry to reach a Dominion prison camp. if you want me to teach your men how to repair the warp drive, that's fine with me. We'll begin with primary command and control systems. That should take about six hours. Then we will move up to basic engineering theory for a class seven warp drive. Then
Ixtana'Rax: Enough.
Kudak'Etan: You may have the three other Bridge officers, but that is all. And I am not interested in any more of your suggestions. Now take him to the engine room.
Dax: Where are we, Chief?
O'Brien: We've just about reached the bi-polar flow junction, I think.
Bashir: You think?
O'Brien: I'm not used to seeing things from this perspective. Once we reach the flow junction we should be able to go up into the secondary warp plasma feed and then exit via the diagnostic panel.
Bashir: This conduit's filthy, Chief. Don't you ever clean up in here?
Dax: All right, all right. Let's not badger the Chief.
O'Brien: Thank you.
Bashir: I'm sorry. It was very small of me.
Ixtana'Rax: Whatever it is you're planning, don't. I'll be watching you, and at the first sign of treachery I will kill all your bridge officers.
Sisko: I'm a prisoner. I have no intention
Ixtana'Rax: The First may be a fool, but I am not.
Sisko: Then it is a pity for you that you are not the First.
Ixtana'Rax: I was, until two days ago. If we had captured you while I was in command we wouldn't be having this conversation. Deck two, section five.
Sisko: What happened?
Ixtana'Rax: He is an Alpha, I am a Gamma. His DNA and psychological profile are specifically designed for combat in this quadrant. The Founders believe that makes him a better leader.
Sisko: What do you believe?
Ixtana'Rax: I believe I've given you enough information already.
Kudak'Etan: We have restored impulse power, and the warp drive will be operational in five hours.
Gelnon: Excellent. It's good to see my faith in you has not been misplaced. The Founders will be pleased. If you require no more assistance, I will resume our mission to Coridan. Let's hope the Federation's dilithium miners will be as surprised to see us as the Defiant's crew was.
Kudak'Etan: Victory is Life.
Gelnon: Indeed.
Kudak'Etan: Set course for the closest Dominion outpost. Engage impulse engines.
O'Brien: Uh oh.
Dax: What is it?
O'Brien: The magnetic plasma guides are heating up.
Dax: They must have initiated the impulse prestart sequence.
Bashir: What does that mean, then?
Dax: It means this entire conduit is about to be filled with superheated plasma.
Bashir: When you say superheated?
O'Brien: If I can't find another way out of here, we'll be vaporized. Is that clear?
Bashir: Crystal.
O'Brien: There's a distribution manifold coming up. Take the left conduit, then make a quick right into the relays.
Dax: Left, then right.
Bashir: I hope you know where you're going, Chief.
O'Brien: So do I. Through the relays. There's an inspection hatch coming up on the right. If we can figure out a way to open the hatch
Dax: We're out of time.
Bashir: What about the hatch?
Dax: We'll have to open it the old-fashioned way.
Bashir: Let's not do that again.
Dax: No promises. So where are we, Chief?
O'Brien: We should be in the engine room near, the warp core.
Dax: Right. There's the core. Looks like the warp drive is offline.
Bashir: Quite a mess. I wonder what happened?
Ixtana'Rax: What are you doing?
Kira: Realigning the dilithium articulation frame.
Ixtana'Rax: Instruct him on how to complete the realignment.
Kira: It'll take longer to explain, than just to do it my
Ixtana'Rax: Then explain it quickly. Give him the tool.
Kira: All right. Start by decoupling the lateral microbrace.
Dax: That's not good.
Dax: Chief, I need visual sensors as fast as you can give them to me.
O'Brien: Right. Julian, give me a hand down here.
O'Brien: Okay, you should have visual sensors now. The comm. system's back online.
Dax: They're forcing our crew to repair the warp drive.
Bashir: Why's the Captain going along with this?
Dax: Good question. But if I know Benjamin, he's up to something. Can you give me a tight shot on the operations display?
O'Brien: I think so.
Dax: Do you see what I see?
O'Brien: Very clever.
Dax: Problem is, it's never going to work.
O'Brien: The bridge control lockouts.
Dax: The security codes are hardwired through the encryption circuitry.
Bashir: Will someone please let me in on this conversation?
O'Brien: The Captain's trying to take control of the ship from Engineering. Kira is the only one actually working on the warp drive, and it doesn't look like she's in any hurry to get it done.
Dax: I think Worf's trying to cover their tracks. It looks like he's sending false signals through the computer system.
O'Brien: Nog is the key. He's trying to override the bridge control lockout so he can release the command codes. If he can do that, the Captain can control the entire ship from the operations console. Nog's a smart kid, but it's going to take him weeks to release the codes from here.
Bashir: Can we do anything to help him?
O'Brien: Not from engineering. If we could get to the bridge, we could release the codes from there.
Bashir: How?
Dax: Wait a minute. One thing at a time. First we need to get out of the engine room without getting caught.
Ixtana'Rax: Why is the Klingon working on the plasma display subsystem?
Sisko: Because I told him to.
Ixtana'Rax: That system has nothing to do with warp drive operation.
Sisko: Maybe not on Dominion ships, but I'll need to use the display to monitor warp plasma stability. Pardon me.
Kira: Until I tell you to stop.
Jem'Hadar: Yes, Major.
O'Brien: Now what?
Dax: Now we wait until someone walks out that door.
Ixtana'Rax: Sixth!
Sixth: Yes, Second.
Ixtana'Rax: Relieve the Klingon. Take over the repair of the display subsystem.
Sixth: Immediately, Second.
Ixtana'Rax: Give the Klingon another task.
Sisko: Why?
Ixtana'Rax: Because I said so.
Kudak'Etan: Why is the warp drive not online yet?
Ixtana'Rax: He's stalling.
Sisko: Stalling? Your Second is the one who's slowing down the work. He countermands my orders, arbitrarily reassigns my crew. I can't get any work done in here.
Kudak'Etan: You were told to watch them, not to interfere with them.
Ixtana'Rax: You're playing right into his hands. Don't you see that?
Kudak'Etan: Captain Sisko, you have thirty minutes to restore warp power, or I will kill her, and another of your crew every fifteen minutes until you do. And you, Second, will no longer interfere with their work.
Dax: Get ready. When he activates the door sensor, we'll
Bashir: Nice bit of piloting.
Dax: If you liked that, you're going to love what's coming up next.
Sisko: Any luck, Ensign?
Nog: Not yet, sir. The system's always three steps ahead of me. Every time I get past the primary security net, the secondary always kicks me back out and the codes are all reset, and I have to start all over again. Like that. Do you have a backup plan in case this doesn't work?
Sisko: Yes. I'll destroy the ship.
Nog: There are still a few algorithms I haven't tried yet.
Kira: Thanks. All right, I'm ready to connect the deuterium injector. Go to the plasma relay and power it up, but slowly just like I showed you.
Kira: I'm about ten minutes away from initiating the prestart sequence on the warp drive. How's Nog doing?
Sisko: Not good. You'll have to find another problem.
Kira: Too fast! Reinitialize the system and start again, but do it at about half the speed this time. He's not stupid. He's already got the entire command and control system committed to memory. I can't keep him fooled forever.
Sisko: In a battle of wits between you and him, I'll bet on you every time.
Kira: What kind of odds are you giving?
Lamat'Ukan: First? I've realigned the targeting sensors. There were errors in the tracking subroutines.
Kudak'Etan: You were not ordered to check the targeting sensors.
Lamat'Ukan: Well, I thought it a wise precaution in case we encountered an enemy ship on our way home.
Kudak'Etan: Your initiative pleases me. It's a trait that the Gammas lack.
Lamat'Ukan: Well, the Gammas have many flaws.
Kudak'Etan: When we return from this mission there will be need for a new Second. I will recommend you to the Vorta.
Lamat'Ukan: You will not be disappointed.
Kudak'Etan: I'm sure that I won't. It'll be Alphas like us that determine the future of this quadrant. That will be the new order of things.
O'Brien: Looks like we need another ticket into the bridge.
Bashir: So how long do we wait for someone to open the door?
Dax: We don't.
Worf: I cannot access the autodestruct system without drawing attention.
Sisko: Plant a computer virus in the warp plasma subprocessor. Set it to cause a core breach once the ship reaches warp one.
Worf: Understood.
O'Brien: Don't hit it too hard. It could shatter the control panel.
Dax: Don't worry. I have a light touch.
Bashir: Not according to Worf. What?
O'Brien: Well we certainly can't release the control lock while the First has his hand on it.
Dax: Can we bypass it?
O'Brien: I suppose I could reroute the encryption subprocessors manually.
Dax: But?
O'Brien: But I'd have to leave the ship to do it. And I have to say I'm not fond of the idea. I can think of about a thousand ways a one centimeter man could get fried walking around inside a circuit housing.
Bashir: Relax, Miles. You wouldn't be able go out there even if you wanted to. You wouldn't be able to breathe. The oxygen molecules outside are almost two thousand times larger than anything your hemoglobin could assimilate. You'd suffocate.
O'Brien: Well, that takes care of that idea.
Dax: Unless. Circuit housings are airtight. I could beam a bubble of compressed air ahead of you and it would expand to fill the housing.
Bashir: It should work. The air would be thin, but you'd be able to breathe for about twenty minutes.
O'Brien: And then?
Bashir: You'd pass out.
O'Brien: We'd pass out. You're coming with me.
O'Brien: This might take longer than I thought.
O'Brien: All right. If we beamed into the primary safeties junction, we should see a cluster of heuristic subprocessors next to a rectilinear expansion module. The question is, what does a rectilinear expansion module look like when you're one centimeter tall?
Bashir: What? I haven't the faintest idea, but it's amazing. It's like we're in the middle of an optronic forest.
O'Brien: Looks like we need to go. Julian, stop!
O'Brien: That chip behind you is carrying twenty microamps of electric current. Now, that's not very much
Bashir: But it's enough to fry every synapse in my tiny body. Thanks for the tip.
O'Brien: All right, stay right behind me. And don't touch anything without asking.
Bashir: Believe me, I won't.
Lamat'Ukan: The White.
Kudak'Etan: It is time.
Dax: How's it coming, Chief?
Bashir: We're making progress. Aren't we, Chief?
O'Brien: I'm still trying to locate the security protocol interlink. Shouldn't take much longer.
Dax: Well
Dax: The sooner the better. Things are getting a little crowded up here.
Lamat'Ukan: We pledge our loyalties to the Founders from this
Kudak'Etan: Pah. We're all Alphas here. Our loyalty is demonstrated by our actions, not our words.
O'Brien: All right. Now
Bashir: Miles, we're lost, aren't we?
O'Brien: Yes, we're lost! I can draw these circuits in my sleep. I've just never seen them from this perspective.
Bashir: Disorientation is one of the effects of hypoxia, lack of oxygen. Need to focus on a landmark. There. That large isolinear chip, number five eight nine six six stroke delta. What is it?
O'Brien: Julian, there are two dozen six six delta's in the asymmetric encryption circuits alone.
Bashir: All right, then what's this here at it's base?
O'Brien: That's a four way interlink shunt.
Bashir: So that would mean that this chip is?
O'Brien: I don't know. I told you, they all look the same to me.
Bashir: All right, don't look at it.
O'Brien: What?
Bashir: Close your eyes, use your memory. Okay. There's a four way shunt at the base of a eight five nine six six stroke delta isolinear chip, which is where?
O'Brien: The only four way shunt near a six six delta is at the base of the master differential relay. That's got to be it.
Bashir: So the interlink we want has to be?
O'Brien: That way.
Sisko: We've got trouble. They're cross-checking the diagnostic protocols.
Kira: Has Nog made any progress?
Sisko: Not yet.
Bashir: It's stuck.
Bashir: Which one?
O'Brien: That one. No, no, no. That one.
Bashir: You sure?
O'Brien: Again. Julian.
O'Brien: Rubicon. Mission complete.
Nog: Oh, I am good.
Jem'Hadar: Come with me.
Ixtana'Rax: All of you, step away from the consoles. Right now!
Nog: Captain. I did it. I don't know how, but I released the command codes.
Sisko: Well done. What we need now is a diversion before they go to warp.
Ixtana'Rax: Silence!
O'Brien: All the Defiant's command functions have been transferred to Engineering. But nothing's happening.
Bashir: Maybe the Captain doesn't realize he has control of the ship yet.
Dax: Or maybe he's in trouble. The First was called to the engine room a few minutes ago.
Kudak'Etan: How long has the warp drive been repaired?
Ixtana'Rax: At least one hour, maybe longer.
Kudak'Etan: And they managed to conceal it from you?
Ixtana'Rax: You ordered me not to interfere with them.
Kudak'Etan: I also told you to watch them carefully.
Ixtana'Rax: If we had assigned Jem'Hadar to do the repair, as I said
Kudak'Etan: I am not interested in your excuses. Bring the warp drive online.
Ixtana'Rax: Wait! Before we activate the warp drive we should check the entire system for possible sabotage.
Kudak'Etan: That would take hours. Every minute we spend in Federation space exposes us to detection and attack. And I would hate for your last mission to end in failure, Elder. Do it. And when you have sufficient engine power available, bring us to warp four.
Kira: At least we're going to take them with us.
Kudak'Etan: Secure these four with the other prisoners.
O'Brien: Dax, upper rail.
Dax: I've got him.
Dax: This guy's really starting to get on my nerves.
Bashir: I have got torpedo lock.
Dax: Fire!
Sisko: I'm flooding all compartments except the engine room with anesthesine gas. Major, get that virus out of the computer before somebody on the bridge engages the warp drive.
Kira: Aye, sir.
Sisko: He should've listened to you and killed me when he had the chance.
Ixtana'Rax: He was a First. They don't need to listen. Obedience brings Victory and Victory is
Sisko: Mister Worf, I think your wife is here. Captain's log, supplemental. After completing repairs, we were able to return to the anomaly and successfully restore our runabout and its crew to their normal size. The surviving Jem'Hadar have been transferred to a Federation POW camp.
Dax: Is that your poem?
Worf: Yes. Bloodwine.
Dax: Can I hear it?
Worf: It is not finished yet.
Dax: Please, just the first line?
Worf: All right. But it is my first poem.
Dax: I understand.
Worf: And I have worked very hard and very long on this.
Dax: I know.
Worf: And I do not wish to be ridiculed.
Dax: I promise.
Worf: Very well. This is the story of a little ship that took a little trip. What do you think?
Dax: It's, er, well, it rhymes. There's nothing on this PADD!
Bashir: We were just minding our own business when suddenly, right there in front of us, was this immense Jem'Hadar.
O'Brien: He looked as tall as a Seltan carnosaur. We were so close, you could see the veins throbbing in his eyeballs. We swung around and ducked behind the operations console. I knew we had to do was get our sensors back online if we were going to be any help to the Captain and the others. So I said to Julian
Bashir: Is there something wrong?
Odo: Are you sure you've returned to your normal size?
O'Brien: Of course.
Bashir: Why?
Odo: Well, you both appear to be a couple of centimeters shorter than you were the last time I saw you. A changeling notices that sort of thing.
Quark: I didn't want to say anything, but you do look a little on the petite side.
Bashir: Infirmary.
Quark: And they say you don't have a sense of humor.


Kira: The Defiant searched the area for almost six hours. We couldn't find any sign of survivors.
Sisko: The Cortez was a fine ship.
Kira: You knew Captain Swofford a long time.
Sisko: I introduced him to his wife.
Kira: Patrolling the Cardassian borders is getting more and more dangerous. You never know when you're going to run into a squadron of Jem'Hadar fighters.
Sisko: I guess we popped the champagne cork too soon, hey? Everyone thought the war was over when we retook the station and pushed the Dominion back into Cardassian space.
Kira: I never believed that and neither did you.
Sisko: A lot of good that did the four hundred people on the Cortez.
Kira: Ah, Mister Sisko. How do you like our station so far?
Joseph: Well, it certainly is big.
Joseph: I heard about Quentin Swofford. I'm sorry.
Sisko: Look, Dad, I know I haven't been very good company the last few days.
Joseph: I didn't come here to be entertained. I came to see you and Jake.
Sisko: Well, you certainly picked an interesting time to take your first trip away from Earth.
Joseph: Well, I figured it was now or never. Besides, I've been worried about you. Last couple of times we've talked it seemed like you were carrying the weight of the entire Alpha Quadrant on your shoulders.
Sisko: Sometimes it certainly feels that way. Dad
Joseph: Just say it, son.
Sisko: I don't know how much more I can take. I don't know how many more friends I can lose. Every time I achieve a real victory, something like this happens and everything seems to turn to ashes.
Joseph: So what do you want to do?
Sisko: Maybe it's time for me to step down, let someone else make the tough calls.
Joseph: I see. No one is indispensable, son. Not even you. Whatever decision you make, I'll support. Of course, if Quentin Swofford was here I'd bet he'd have a few things to say to you.
Sisko: But he's not here, and that's the whole point.
Joseph: I'd say you have some thinking to do, and I've got a dinner date with my grandson, so you'd better get to it.
Sisko: Who was that?
Sisko: Where'd he go?
Joseph: Who?
Sisko: The man who just walked by my door.
Dax: I didn't see anyone.
Sisko: I could've sworn.
Kasidy: I don't know what you're so worried about, Ben. I'm not taking my ship anywhere near the Cardassian border.
Sisko: I realize that, but the Dominion is getting bolder and bolder, and your freighter is no match for a Jem'Hadar attack ship.
Kasidy: Ah, they've got to catch me first.
Sisko: You're really not worried, are you?
Kasidy: No. I'm fearless, and you know that. That's why you love me.
Sisko: I think I follow that logic.
Willie: Hey, Benny.
Willie: Catch the game?
Sisko: What? Who was that?
Kasidy: Who was who?
Kasidy: Ben, where are you going?
Woman: Someone help him. Call an ambulance.
Bashir: He's awake now.
Kasidy: Ben, are you all right?
Sisko: I think so.
Joseph: Thank God.
Jake: Hey, Dad, you scared us there for a minute.
Sisko: What happened?
Bashir: I don't know. I'm reading some unusual synaptic potentials. Your neural patterns are similar to those you experienced last year.
Sisko: You mean when I was having those visions about Bajor?
Joseph: Visions? Does this have something to do with those Prophets you're always telling me about?
Kasidy: He's not going to need surgery again, is he?
Bashir: I'm not sure yet, so I'd like you to remain overnight for observation.
Sisko: Is that absolutely necessary?
Bashir: Take a look at these readings.
Vendor: Are you going to buy that or not? Personally, I don't see the attraction. Spaceships, flying saucers, men from Mars.
Benny: What's wrong with men from Mars?
Vendor: Nothing, except it's all make believe. Me, I like war stories. Did you see From Here to Eternity? Burt Lancaster standing there in the middle of Pearl Harbor, machine gun blazing, shooting down those Zeros. If it had been flying saucers, forget about it. So you going to buy that or not?
Albert: Benny.
Benny: Hello, Albert.
Albert: I thought you might be going to the office.
Benny: We could walk there together.
Albert: Exactly.
Albert: Oh, there they are. You're looking at the Galaxy, I see.
Vendor: Paper here. Paper.
Kay: Voila. A pitcher of plain water instantly becomes a pitcher of iced tea.
Julius: Incredible. White Rose Redi Tea. What an appallling concept.
Kay: Oh, H. G. Wells would've liked it.
Julius: I doubt that. No self respecting Englishman would.
Herbert: Pabst! Pabst! Get out here.
Pabst: What's wrong now, Herb?
Herbert: I'll give you one guess.
Kay: The battle of the doughnuts, round twenty eight.
Pabst: That's it? That's what you called me out here for, to complain about the doughnuts?
Herbert: They're stale again.
Pabst: Delicious.
Herbert: Delicious, my eye. These are two days old and you know it.
Pabst: I have been eating doughnuts my whole life. These weren't baked more than six hours ago.
Herbert: That's it, I quit. I'm going over to Galaxy.
Pabst: Ha! Galaxy, that rag?
Herbert: I bet that rag knows the difference between a doughnut and a doorstop.
Benny: Who's winning?
Kay: A draw, same as always.
Pabst: You want to write Galaxy, go ahead, but they're not going to pay you four cents a word for your stories.
Julius: You're paying him four cents a word?
Albert: Did you see where I put the er?
Benny: The matches? I gave them to you.
Julius: If he's getting four, Kay and I should at least get three.
Herbert: For that fantasy crap you write, you're lucky to be getting two.
Julius: I beg your pardon?
Kay: What's that?
Julius: The latest Galaxy.
Kay: Benny has the new issue of Galaxy.
Herbert: Let me see that. Heinlein, Bradbury, Sturgeon. Quite a lineup. Add Herbert Rossoff to them and it'd be complete.
Pabst: What if I promise you fresh doughnuts tomorrow?
Herbert: Why should I believe you?
Pabst: I'll even throw in a couple of crullers.
Herbert: Okay, I'll stay.
Julius: Don't do us any favors.
Pabst: Good. Now that we've finished with the old business, onto the new. Time to hand out next month's story assignments. Ritterhouse! We're waiting.
Roy: Okay, friends and neighbors. Let's see what Uncle Roy has for you today.
Pabst: All right, I've titled this one 'Please, Take Me With You.' Who wants it?
Kay: Hmm, what do you think, Jules?
Julius: I think we can do something with that.
Herbert: Oh, I bet you can. I can see it now, the lonely little girl befriended by empathetic aliens who teach her how to smile. It's enough to make you go out and buy a television set. Next.
Roy: This is Mister Pabst's favorite. Honeymoon on Andoras.
Kay: Oh, you've got to be kidding.
Roy: What? So I had too much sauerkraut on my franks that night. What can I say?
Herbert: Be that as it may, that is the worst piece of garbage I have ever seen.
Roy: Thank you.
Herbert: I'll take it.
Julius: Of course you will. You have an affinity for garbage, don't you?
Herbert: The picture may be garbage, but the story? The story will be art.
Pabst: All right, I haven't got a title for this one yet. Anybody got any ideas?
Benny: I'll think of something.
Pabst: All right, next order of business. Some of our readers have been writing in wanting to know what you people look like.
Kay: Write back and tell them we look like writers. Poor, needy and incredibly attractive.
Pabst: Well our publisher has a better idea. Mister Stone has decided to run a picture of you in next month's issue.
Albert: Is this absolutely
Pabst: Necessary? I'm afraid it is. Kay, you can sleep late that day.
Kay: Of course I can. God forbid that the public ever finds out K.C. Hunter is a woman.
Benny: I suppose I'm sleeping late that day, too.
Pabst: It's not personal, Benny, but as far as our readers are concerned, Benny Russell is as white as they are. Let's just keep it that way.
Herbert: Oh yes, if the world's not ready for a woman writer, imagine what would happen if it learned about a Negro with a typewriter. Run for the hills! It's the end of civilisation.
Benny: What about W E B du Bois, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Ralph Ellison, Richard Wright? Did you ever heard of Native Son?
Pabst: That's literature for liberals and intellectuals. The average reader's not going to spend his hard earned cash on stories written by Negroes.
Herbert: Would someone please shoot me and put me out of my misery?
Julius: How I long for a gun.
Pabst: I'm sorry, Benny. I wish things were different, but they're not.
Benny: Wishing never changed a damn thing.
Pabst: Come on, Benny. It's just a photo.
Benny: I'll try to remember that.
Herbert: You're a dog.
Pabst: All right, enough standing around. Get back to work.
Ryan: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. What's the hurry?
Benny: That's my drawing.
Ryan: Is that so?
Mulkahey: Nice suit. Where'd you get it?
Benny: I bought it. Can I have my drawing back?
Ryan: Hey boy, I'd watch that tone of voice if I were you.
Mulkahey: What are you doing around here?
Benny: I work here.
Ryan: Yeah? Where?
Benny: In there.
Ryan: What are you, the janitor?
Mulkahey: Awfully well dressed for a janitor.
Ryan: How do we know that picture's yours?
Benny: It's the drawing of a space station.
Ryan: Space station?
Mulkahey: Hey, hey, hey, hey. Well, get off it already.
Ryan: Okay.
Benny: See? It's not worth anything except to me.
Ryan: I say we run him in, check him for priors.
Mulkahey: Nah. We've got to be uptown in fifteen minutes. Take your drawing and get out of here.
Ryan: Hey, hey. You're getting off with a warning this time. Next time, not so lucky. Now get out of here.
Mulkahey: You heard him, move on.
Ryan: I don't know, Kevin. Whole city's going to hell in a handbasket, huh?
Mulkahey: Damn shame.
Ryan: Come on.
Preacher: And he said to me, 'These words are trustworthy and true.' And the Lord, God of the spirits of the Prophets, has sent his angel to show his servants what must soon take place. Praise the Lord. Open their eyes. Help them to see.
Benny: Are you talking to me?
Preacher: Oh, that my words were now written. Oh, that they were printed in a book. Write those words, Brother Benny. Let them see the glory of what lies ahead.
Benny: Benny? How do you know my name?
Preacher: Go now and write the truth that's in your heart. The truth that shall set them free! Praise be the word of the Lord. Praise to the word of the Prophets.
Cassie: Hey, baby. Have a seat. The usual?
Benny: How about scrambling those eggs today?
Cassie: Oh my, aren't we feeling adventurous.
Benny: I have just written the best story of my life.
Cassie: That's great, baby. I got some good news, too. I talked to Mrs Jackson last night and she's serious about retiring in the next couple of years. I asked her about selling this place to us and she said that she would be willing.
Benny: Cassie, we have been over this. I have a job. I am a writer.
Cassie: And how much money have you earned doing that?
Benny: I've only been working at it for a few years.
Cassie: A few years? More like fifteen, if you count all those stories you wrote in the Navy.
Benny: That was amateur stuff.
Cassie: Oh, baby, neither one of us is getting any younger. Can't you see? This is our chance. We can make some money, we can get married. You're always talking about writing for the future. Well, look around you. This is our future.
Willie: Cassie, hear the game last night? Went two for four, robbed Snider of a tater. Should have heard the crowd yelling and carrying on.
Benny: Sure they were yelling. They want to know why the Giants are in fifth place.
Willie: Would you please tell this fool to take his business someplace else?
Cassie: Well, I've thought about it. Trouble is, if he did leave, he'd take my heart with him.
Willie: Suit yourself. But if you ask me, it's a waste of a very pretty heart.
Cassie: I don't think so.
Benny: Strike three. You're out.
Willie: That's all right, I'll get another turn at bat. How about some steak and eggs?
Cassie: Coming right up. But tell me something. How come you still living uptown? I mean, s famous ballplayer like you, you can live anywhere you want.
Willie: The hell I can. They can hardly get used to the idea of me playing alongside them. Living next to them? That's a whole other story. Besides, around here, when people look at me, it's 'cause they admire me. There, I'm just another colored boy who can hit a curve ball. Now, if you will excuse me, my public awaits.
Willie: Ladies. Oh, hi guys.
Cassie: I'll see about those eggs.
Jimmy: Hey, Benny. You wanna buy a watch?
Benny: How did you get that?
Jimmy: I found it. Nice, huh?
Benny: Jimmy, you got to turn this around or one days you're going to find yourself in some serious trouble.
Jimmy: Anything I can get into, I can get out of.
Benny: You keep thinking that way and watch what happens.
Jimmy: Man, why you always trying to lecture me?
Benny: I'm not trying to lecture you, Jimmy, I'm just trying to help.
Jimmy: You want to help me, you can buy this watch. I can use the cash.
Benny: Why don't you get a job?
Jimmy: As what? A delivery boy or a dishwasher? No, thanks. I like being my own boss, setting my own hours.
Benny: Sounds like a great life.
Jimmy: Yours ain't no better. Writing stories about a bunch of white people living on the moon. Who cares about that?
Benny: I'm not doing that anymore. I'm writing about us.
Jimmy: What, colored people on the moon?
Benny: Check out next month's issue.
Jimmy: Colored people on the moon. I just might do that. But first, I'm gonna need to raise me some cash.
Darlene: She's got a worm in her belly. Oh, that's disgusting. That's interesting, but that's disgusting.
Albert: And you are, if you don't mind me asking, you are?
Darlene: I'm Mister Pabst's new secretary. Darlene Kursky. Which one of you's wrote this?
Benny: I did.
Darlene: You?
Benny: Surprised?
Darlene: It's just it's the best thing I've read since The Puppet Masters. I read a lot of science fiction.
Herbert: Bless you, my child.
Kay: The world needs more people like you.
Albert: The story is really, it's, how should I put it? It's very
Darlene: Impressive?
Albert: Yes.
Herbert: It's a damn fine piece of writing is what it is. And Deep Space Nine is a very intriguing title.
Julius: Very admirable.
Herbert: The master of understatement. What he really means is he wishes he had half your talent.
Kira: You know what, Benny? I like this Major of yours. She's a tough cookie.
Kay: Science fiction needs more strong women characters. I'm always saying that, aren't I, Jules?
Julius: Ad nauseam, dear.
Roy: These Cardassians, I like the way you describe them, especially the neck ridges. I'm going to do some sketches for you to take a look at. Make a nice cover.
Pabst: Don't waste your time. You, back to work.
Darlene: Right away, Mister Pabst.
Pabst: You too, Roy.
Herbert: Douglas, you're not going to stand there and tell us you don't like this story.
Pabst: Oh, I like it all right. It's good. It's very good. But you know I can't print it.
Benny: Why not?
Pabst: Oh, come on, Benny. Your hero's a Negro captain. The head of a space station, for Christ's sake.
Benny: What's wrong with that?
Pabst: People won't accept it. It's not believable.
Herbert: And men from Mars are?
Pabst: Stay out of this, Herb. Look, Benny, I'm a magazine editor, I am not a crusader. I am not here to change the world, I'm here to put out a magazine. Now, that's my job. That means I have to answer to the publisher, the national distributors, the wholesalers and none of them are going to want to put this story on the newsstand. For all we know, it could cause a race riot.
Herbert: Congratulations, Douglas. That's the most imbecilic attempt to rationalize personal cowardice that I've ever heard.
Kay: Uh oh, he's angry now.
Pabst: Herb's been angry ever since Joseph Stalin died.
Herbert: What's that supposed to mean?
Pabst: You know exactly what it means.
Herbert: You calling me a red?
Benny: Easy, easy.
Julius: Calm down, dear boy. We're writers, not Vikings.
Herbert: I'm not going to stand here and let some craven fascist call me a pinko and get away with it.
Albert: Douglas, what did you think of, of my story?
Pabst: I loved it. You see, Albert's got the right idea. He's not interested in Negroes or whites. He writes about robots.
Herbert: That's because he is a robot. No offense, Albert.
Albert: I like robots. They're very efficient.
Pabst: Here, write me a novella based on this picture. I'll print it in next month's issue. You do a good job, you might even get the cover.
Benny: What about my story?
Pabst: The way I see it, you can either burn it or you can stick it in a drawer for fifty years or however long it takes the human race to become color-blind.
Benny: I want people to read it now.
Pabst: Fine. You want me to print it? Make the captain white.
Benny: That's not what I wrote.
Pabst: It's your call.
Cassie: I'm sorry they didn't buy your story, baby. Really I am.
Jimmy: I told you you were wasting your time. A colored captain. The only reason they'll ever let us in space is if they need someone to shine their shoes. Ain't that right, Cassie?
Cassie: I don't know, and to be honest I don't much care what happens a hundred years from now. It's today that matters.
Jimmy: Well, I've got news for you. Today or a hundred years from now, it don't make a bit of difference. As far as they're concerned, we'll always be niggers.
Benny: Things are going to change. They have to.
Jimmy: You keep telling yourself that.
Cassie: Maybe all this is happening for a reason.
Benny: You mean maybe it's God's way of telling me that I should quit writing and go into the restaurant business?
Cassie: Hey, it's possible. Baby, I know we can make this work for us. We could be happy. Besides, you don't have to give up writing altogether. Maybe you could write something for the Amsterdam News or some other Negro newspapers.
Benny: I'm not a reporter, I'm a writer. I write fiction and the Amsterdam News is not going to publish stories about a space station four hundred years into the future.
Worf: Hear the game last night?
Willie: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. You don't look so good. You sick or something?
Benny: Oh, no, I'm fine.
Cassie: You want to lie down in the back?
Benny: No, no, no, I just need some air.
Cassie: Are we still on for tonight?
Benny: I'll pick you up about ten.
Willie: What are you doing till ten?
Cassie: Whatever it is, I won't be doing it with you.
Preacher: Hello, Brother Benny.
Benny: You again. I don't understand what you want from me.
Preacher: To follow the path of the Prophets. Walk with the Prophets, Brother Benny. Show us the way.
Benny: What way? I don't know what you're talking about.
Preacher: Write the words, Brother Benny. The words that will lead us out of the darkness onto the path of righteousness.
Preacher: Write the words, Brother Benny. Write the words.
Cassie: Hey, baby. You forgot all about our date.
Benny: Our date? I'm sorry. I was working.
Cassie: Ben Sisko? Isn't that your colored captain? Why are you writing another one of those stories. You couldn't sell the last one. What makes you think this one'll be any different?
Benny: It probably won't be, but it doesn't matter. It's what I've got to do.
Cassie: Right now, what you've got to do is eat.
Benny: I'm not hungry. What time is it anyway?
Cassie: It's after midnight. I should be getting home to bed. But before I go, what do you say we take a spin on the dance floor.
Benny: Okay.
Cassie: Mmm. Feels good, doesn't it?
Benny: I could stay like this forever.
Kasidy: Me, too. It's times like these that I wish we'd never heard of the Dominion.
Benny: The Dominion?
Cassie: What do you mean? You said something about the Dominion
Kasidy: What is it, Ben? What's wrong?
Benny: I don't know. I think I'm losing my mind.
Cassie: Tell me. Tell me what's wrong.
Benny: I'm starting to see things things from my story. It's as if I'm becoming this Captain Sisko.
Cassie: Okay, baby, you just need to get some rest. It's all right, it's all right. I'm with you. I'm with you, baby. Just take it easy. Shh.
Pabst: Have you lost your mind?
Benny: Lately, I've been asking myself the same question.
Pabst: I give you a novella to write. I even offer you a shot at the cover. Three weeks later, instead of a novella, you come back with six stories. Six sequels to a story I refused to publish in the first place. So I guess the answer to the question we've both been asking is yes, you are certifiable!
Julius: I think you should print your own stories. You know, through a private publishing house. A nice, elegant, little volume. Fifty to a hundred copies.
Pabst: That's a great idea.
Kay: Might as well write it in chalk on the sidewalk. More people would read them that way.
Albert: I've got an idea. Why not make them, you know, a dream?
Benny: What's that?
Albert: Just make the ending of your first story, Deep Space Nine, a dream.
Benny: Would that make a difference?
Pabst: That depends.
Kay: On what?
Pabst: On who's doing the dreaming.
Kay: Well, obviously someone, er, someone without a lot of hope. A shoeshine boy, a convict, someone dreaming of a better future.
Pabst: A Negro.
Darlene: Yeah well, I suppose he'd have to be if he was dreaming about a Negro captain.
Herbert: Hold on. Making it a dream guts the story.
Pabst: Shut up, Herb.
Julius: I think it makes it more poignant.
Herbert: What about the other Sisko stories? You can't make them all dreams.
Kay: Let him get this one published first, then he can worry about the others.
Julius: What do you think, Benny?
Benny: I think it's better than chalk on the sidewalk.
Benny: Can I play? Hey, Jimmy, I got great news. We're headed for the stars.
Jimmy: Yeah, sure, whatever.
Benny: Come on, I'll buy you lunch. I'll tell you all about it.
Jimmy: Later. I got some business to take care of.
Benny: What kind of business?
Jimmy: Big time. That's all I've got to say.
Benny: Hey, hey, hey, hold it, hold it. What are you talking about?
Jimmy: Don't worry about it. It's cool, man. I got it under control. I'll see you around.
Willie: Bottom of seventh, I'm up again. Oh two fastball, ham, into the left field bleachers. Had to be four hundred feet.
Cassie: I know all about it, Willie. I read the newspaper.
Willie: Oh, but you got to admit, they don't tell like I tell it.
Benny: Hey, Cassie.
Willie: Hey, man, did you hear the game last night? I went two for four.
Benny: Yeah, Willie, that's great. But I just hit a grand slam. They are publishing one of my Sisko stories at three cents a word. Three cents a word!
Cassie: Good for you, baby.
Benny: That means tonight we are celebrating. Dancing, the works.
Cassie: I'll wear my red dress.
Benny: You're damn right you will. Three cents a word. Three cents a word.
Benny: There you are.
Cassie: Oh, my poor feet. Baby, you better marry me soon. I'm not getting any younger.
Benny: Yes, but you are getting more and more beautiful day by day. I'd be happy just to spend my life waiting on your beck and call.
Preacher: Brother Benny.
Benny: I was hoping I'd see you again. I did it. My story's getting published.
Preacher: The light of the Lord is in his path. But, Brother Benny, this is only the beginning of your journey, not the ending. And the path of the Prophets sometimes leads into darkness and pain.
Cassie: Benny, what is he talking about? Who are you?
Preacher: I speak with the voice of the Prophets.
Preacher: And in their words, hope and despair walk arm in arm.
Cassie: Did you understand any of that?
Cassie: Is that gunfire?
Mulkahey: Hey! Whoa! Whoa!
Ryan: Get back.
Benny: What happened?
Mulkahey: What's it to you?
Benny: I know him.
Ryan: Yeah? Then maybe you can explain what he was doing trying to break into this car here.
Benny: Is that why you shot him? Because he was breaking into a car?
Mulkahey: He had a weapon.
Benny: A crowbar!
Ryan: Yes, now step back.
Mulkahey: Let's go.
Cassie: Stop it! Stop it! Let him go! Stop it, please! Get off of me! Stop it! They're going to kill him. Look, you're going to kill him. Stop it!
Cassie: I'm telling you, baby, you've been cooped up in this apartment for weeks. Going down to the office will do you good.
Benny: I suppose you're right. I should be there when the first copies of this month's issue are delivered.
Cassie: Absolutely. After all that work you did, you deserve to see your story in print. Just no jumping up and down with excitement. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.
Benny: I will restrict myself to a proud grin.
Cassie: You're not having any more of those hallucinations, are you?
Benny: I'm fine.
Kay: What about, It Came From Outer Space.
Julius: It's a smashing title. Wish I'd thought of it.
Herbert: Hey, Benny. Long time no see.
Benny: Is it here?
Julius: Not yet. Pabst is still at the printers.
Kay: We're waiting for his return with baited breath.
Albert: We heard that you were
Kay: We heard they beat the hell out of you.
Benny: I'm okay.
Albert: Glad to see that you're, you know, up and about.
Darlene: Tell him the good news, Albert.
Albert: Oh, it's nothing.
Kay: Nothing? He sells a novel to Gnome Press and he says it's nothing.
Benny: A novel. Albert, congratulations!
Albert: Thank you.
Benny: Robots?
Albert: What else?
Julius: It's about time.
Herbert: Douglas? Magazine?
Pabst: There isn't any magazine. Not this month anyway. Mister Stone had the entire run pulped.
Benny: He can't do that.
Pabst: Oh, he can and he did. He believes, quote, this issue did not live up to our usual high standards, unquote.
Benny: What's that supposed to mean?
Pabst: It means he didn't like it. Which means the public will simply going to have to get along without any Incredible Tales this month.
Benny: What exactly is it that he did not like? The artwork, the layout? What high standards is he talking about?
Kay: Take it easy, Benny.
Benny: No, it's about my story, isn't it? That's what this is all about. He didn't want to publish my story and we all know why. Because my hero is a colored man.
Pabst: Hey! This magazine belongs to Mister Stone. If he doesn't want to publish this month, we don't publish this month. End of story.
Benny: That doesn't make it right and you know it.
Pabst: Don't tell me what I know. Besides, it's not about what's right, it's about what is. And I'm afraid I've got some more bad news for you, Benny. Mister Stone has decided that your services are no longer required here.
Herbert: What!
Benny: You're firing me?
Pabst: I have no choice, Benny. It's his decision.
Benny: Well, you can't fire me. I quit. To hell with you, and to hell with Stone.
Julius: Try to stay calm, Benny.
Benny: No. I'm tired of being calm. Calm never gotten me a damn thing.
Pabst: I'm warning you, Benny. If you don't stop this I'm going to call the police.
Benny: You go ahead! Call them! Call anybody you want. They can't do anything to me. Not anymore. And nor can any of you. I am a human being, damn it. You can deny me all you want but you cannot deny Ben Sisko. He exists! That future, that space station, all those people, they exist in here. In my mind, I created it. And every one of you know it. You read it. It's here. You hear what I'm telling you? You can pulp a story but you cannot destroy an idea. Don't you understand? That's ancient knowledge. You cannot destroy an idea. That future, I created it, and it's real. Don't you understand? It is real! I created it and it's real! It's real! Oh, God. (Benny collapses, sobbing.
Ambulance Man: Easy.
Ambulance Man: One, two three.
Preacher: Rest easy, Brother Benny. You have walked in the path of the Prophets. There is no greater glory.
Benny: Tell me, please. Who am I?
Preacher: Don't you know?
Benny: Tell me.
Preacher: You're the dreamer and the dream.
Kasidy: Ben? Ben.
Sisko: How long was I out?
Bashir: Only for a few minutes.
Joseph: Seemed like forever to me.
Bashir: That's odd. Somehow, your neural patterns have returned to normal.
Jake: That's good, isn't it?
Bashir: Oh, it's very good. I just don't understand how it happened.
Joseph: How're you feeling, son?
Sisko: I'm okay.
Joseph: I'm done packing. Transport leaves at eight in the morning.
Sisko: I wish you could stay longer.
Joseph: I've got to get back to the restaurant. My customers have never gone this long without me. The question is, what are you going to do?
Sisko: The only thing I can do. Stay here and finish the job I started. And if I fail
Joseph: I have fought the good fight. I have finished the course. I have kept the faith.
Sisko: I've never known you to quote from the Bible.
Joseph: I'm full of surprises, aren't I? And so are you. Sounds like that dream you had helped you sort things out.
Sisko: I suppose it did. But I have begun to wonder. What if it wasn't a dream? What if this life we're leading, all of this, you and me, everything. What if all this is the illusion?
Joseph: That's a scary thought.
Sisko: I know, I know. But maybe, just maybe, Benny isn't the dream, we are. Maybe we're nothing more than figments of his imagination. For all we know, at this very moment, somewhere far beyond all those distant stars, Benny Russell is dreaming of us.