SISKO STARED AT the Nibix a full minute longer than he should have as it came into position beside the Defiant. His historian's brain told him he was seeing a sight he would never see again in his lifetime, the flight of a ship considered long dead. And one that should have remained buried.
The rest of the bridge crew watched as well. All those young faces turned toward the screen, the awe on them reflecting the feeling in Sisko's chest.
He was the one who had to break the moment. He wished he didn't.
He tapped his comm badge. "Sisko to O'Brien."
"O'Brien here." O'Brien's voice sounded amazingly close.
"How's she holding up, Chief?"
"Beautifully, sir."
"Is she doing well enough to hold together at warp two with the tractor beams around her?"
"It shouldn't even strain her," O'Brien said. "I haven't seen starships with this much durability, and that's saying something, sir. I think, if I have enough time, I might even be able to start some of her smaller engines."
"Be careful," Sisko said. "We don't—"
"—want to disturb anything else. I know. Dax has been reminding me of that every five seconds."
"Stay vigilant, Chief."
"Rest assured, Commander."
Rest. Sisko signed off. He wondered if he would ever rest again. "Ensign Kathé, what's the situation at Deep Space Nine?"
She wrested her gaze from the Nibix on the viewscreen and looked at her scanner. "I count ten Jibetian ships, five Cardassian warships, three Federation starships, and one Ferengi vessel plus at least eleven more ships approaching fast."
Sisko nodded, returning to his post. They had to find that leak as soon as he got back. Instead of closing down the information on the station, it seemed as if the news had been broadcast all over the galaxy.
He tapped his comm badge again. "Doctor, how's our patient?"
"Uncommunicative and stable, sir, but then we like them like that." For all his humor, Bashir sounded a bit strained. Sisko probably would, too, if he were sitting alone in a room with a bunch of corpses and an eight-hundred-year-old sleeping man.
"Good," Sisko said. "Meet me in the control room of your ship immediately."
"And our patient, sir?"
"If his condition is unchanged, then it's safe to leave him, isn't it, Doctor? Your call."
"I suppose, sir, but I don't want to leave him unattended too long."
"This won't take very long," Sisko said. He stepped away from his command chair. "Ensign Kathé, you have the command. Keep a transporter lock on me at all times, and let me know if anything changes."
"Yes, sir," she said, glancing at the screen.
"And, Ensign," he said.
"Yes?"
"I know the Nibix is a beautiful sight. Just don't let it distract you."
Her face flushed in embarrassment. "I won't, sir," she said.
By the time Sisko beamed onto the Nibix, Dr. Bashir was also arriving in the control room. He looked cold; his cheeks were ruddy and his lips were pale. By contrast, the control room itself was warm. It had changed drastically from a few hours before. The place was brightly lit. The dark corners that had so fascinated Sisko were illuminated, showing some dirt and debris, eight hundred years' worth. The dome was still spectacular. Its view of space made him feel as if he were traveling without a craft. Above the dome, the Defiant flew, proud and strong and familiar. It lacked the elegance of the Nibix, but the Defiant was his ship, his baby, and he loved her a lot more.
O'Brien was standing near the oblong control panel.
"What have you done?" Bashir asked as he walked toward the Starfleet regulation heater. Sisko hurried beside him. The room was light, but it was still cold.
"We just turned on a few lights," O'Brien said, "and got a few power supplies going."
Dax crawled out from under a panel and brushed herself off. She still had dark smudges of dirt on her face, and her hair was coming undone. She looked radiant as she grinned at Sisko. "We should have heat any moment now," she said.
Something clanged behind Sisko. The three men turned.
"That's the heater," Dax said.
"Clanging?" Bashir asked.
She shrugged. "The machinery's old."
The smell of burning dust filled the area, a smell Sisko associated with the old homes of his childhood instead of ships in the depth of space. He smiled. He could almost feel what the Nibix had been like in her prime.
He turned to O'Brien. "Were you serious about being able to get one of the engines of this ship running again?"
"I don't think we can get the main drives to go," O'Brien said. "I'd be afraid to try that. But this lady has some pretty solid steering thrusters that would be easy and fairly safe to fire."
"Fairly safe?" Sisko asked.
O'Brien shrugged. "That's as much of a guarantee as I can give you, Commander. At worst, though, we shut them down, no harm done."
"And at best, the Nibix flies herself?" Bashir asked.
"Wouldn't that be spectacular?" Sisko murmured. He gazed up at the Defiant and the stars beyond. Somewhere out there, the station and all its problems loomed. But for the moment, he was on the Nibix, and she was flying.
"Now," Sisko said, "all we need is communication. We can still use our comm badges, but I would prefer to have ship-to-ship communications. Is that possible, Chief?"
O'Brien nodded. "We can do it in less than an hour."
"Good." Sisko turned to Bashir. "Doctor, can you beam the Supreme Ruler directly to the infirmary when we get close to the station?"
Bashir thought for a moment. "It would take me a good half hour to be ready for him. We need to move him to something that would approximate his cold-sleep chamber. I have the equipment for that. If I can set that up, we would be able to beam him across without damaging his chances."
Sisko could sense Bashir's hesitation. He knew that part of it was due to the unusual circumstance. Much of it, though, was simple timing. Somehow, he would have to give the doctor at least a half an hour near the station. He glanced at Dax.
"How good is your salvage law, old man?"
"You're the one who worked at Utopia Planetia," she said, "but I don't do badly on any aspect of Federation law."
That was Jadzia speaking. The brilliant young Trill. It amazed him that he was beginning to tell her apart from the other parts of herself.
"My understanding of international salvage law is this," he said, "any ship abandoned for over one hundred years can be claimed by the finding party."
Dax's smile was wistful. "That would be nice, Benjamin, but this is not abandoned. It still has a technically live occupant."
"Yes," Sisko said, "but no one in the ships around the station knows that."
"So," O'Brien said, "you are going to fly this old ship into the middle of that mess."
"Absolutely," Sisko said with a grin. "I wouldn't miss that for the world."
"But what does salvage law have to do with us?" Bashir asked.
"We're going in proudly flying Federation colors. We'll let the diplomats sort it all out after this ship is docked at the station." Sisko turned to Dax. "It seems, old man, that you are about to get your first command."
Dax opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Sisko laughed. He knew that being on the Nibix affected her as deeply as it affected him. Commanding it pleased her more.
"Can you have your ship ready, Lieutenant?" he asked.
Dax nodded. "We'll be ready."
"That we will," O'Brien said. "The Federation ship Nibix will make us all proud."
Sisko shook his head. "We can't call it the Nibix. At least not when we approach the station. We can't even mention that word at all. We need another name." He turned to Dax. "It's your command."
Dax nodded and then slowly smiled. "The Long Night. The Federation Deep-Space Ship Long Night."
Sisko smiled. "The Defiant and the Long Night will jump to warp in ten minutes. We're going home."