and Sisko got the sense that the Trill was noting what he was: that it was becoming a contest among the patrons to see whose species was sensitive enough to "feel" the Mist.
Cap seemed to notice it too. And, like Sisko, he knew which way it was going to go. Add enough intoxicants, and every species reverted to childhood. Pretty soon, the entire thing would degenerate into a "my species is better than your species" brawl.
"So," Cap said loudly, effectively silencing the growing debate. "We know that Victor believed the Klingons felt nothing"
Sotugh started to speak, but Cap continued"even though we know that they did feel something. Then what?"
Sisko heaved a small sigh of relief. He was wondering how he was going to return to DS9 battered from a bar brawl and still convince Dr. Bashir that he'd rested.
"Well," he said, "I glanced up at the Klingon ship Daqchov floating near the Mist ship. Wouldn't they be shocked to know they were so close to another alien ship?"
"Shocked?!?" Sotugh said. "Klingons are not shocked. We are never shocked. We"
"Sotugh," several patrons said at once.
The cat-woman finished the thought. "Would you kindly shut up and let him talk? How would you like it if someone continually interrupted your stupid operas?"
"They are not stupid," Sotugh said.
"Could have fooled me," the cat-woman said.
"Prrghh, Sotugh, please," Cap said. "The others want to listen to the story, not your bickering."
"That's what I was trying to tell him," the catlike woman, Prrghh, said haughtily.
"Then take your own advice, woman." Sotugh leaned back in his chair. "Continue with your lies, Sisko."
Sisko did not take the bait. He took another swig of Jibetian ale, and went back to the story.
Chief O'Brien looked as if the entire discussion was a revelation to him. "So that's why this area of space is so clear," he said.
Captain Victor nodded. "It has to be kept clear to cut down on episodes of the dizziness and dislocation that you felt."
"But the energy to maintain such a shift," Chief O'Brien said, "must be enormous."
Captain Victor shook his head. "Once shifted, the matter remains in that constant state unless purposefully shifted back."
Dax had a slight frown on her face. "When the planets shifted, the Mist would have had to shift everything. Air, food, water. Everything that sustained life, including the suns. I find that hard to believe."
"It happened," Victor said. "And more. The Mist called this the Great Move. Their history makes it clear that the shift was a gigantic undertaking that took years."
While I found all of this fascinating, and just vague enough to be confusing scientifically, I had other concerns. Many parts of this story made no sense, at least not with the things I could see.
"How did you shift into Mist space?" I asked.
Captain Victor laughed. "My ancestors ran into some problems near this area of space with their ship. The Mist saved the ship, as they have done with many other ships over the centuries. Many of my ancestors decided to remain on the Mist worlds. Like many other races, we have been accepted in their culture. I am now a tenth-generation member of the Mist community."
I made a small, noncommittal sound in the back of my throat. Dr. Bashir looked at me. He knew that sound was my way of continuing a conversation, but of letting my skepticism out.
"So," I said, "you claim the Mist have been completely out of touch with any other race, except for those members of those races that it has 'rescued.' "
I put quite an emphasis on the word rescued. I wondered if we had been "rescued" as well.
"Why would we be in touch with any other race? We opted to leave this part of space, to live in our own universe, so to speak," Victor said. "The affairs, the wars, of the normal universe do not affect us."
"Well," I said softly, "something must have affected you, Captain. You knew enough about our universe to lure us here."
"True," he said.
"And I suspect you would not have done so if
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