Sisko to Dax.
Yes, Captain.
We arrive at Starbase 375 in five minutes.
I'll meet you in the transporter room.
Dax out.
Ooh... now, that's what I call
really bad timing.
I have to go.
Jadzia...
there is just one more thing.
As long as it's not about the wedding.
When we exchange our vows
you must remember
to present your d'k tahg to General Martok
as a formal request for him to accept you into our House.
But I don't want to join his House.
What?
I don't want to get caught up
in all those blood feuds.
Every time a member of the House of Martok
gets dishonored or killed
I'll have to drop whatever I'm doing
and rush off on some quest for vengeance.
It's boring, Worf.
If you refuse, it will be a grave dishonor.
General Martok will not understand—
Worf.
I'm joking.
So you will join our House?
Of course I will.
I can see our lives together will not be easy.
True.
But they'll be fun.
OFFICER: Channel open.
This is General Martok of the IKS Rotarran
requesting permission to dock.
MAN: General, you're cleared for docking at Bay 11.
Thank God.
I never thought I'd miss
Starfleet field rations.
Give me some freeze-dried peaches
or some powdered carrots—
anything, as long as it isn't moving.
It's not the food, it's the singing.
Oh! Till all hours of the night.
If I have to listen
to another ballad about the honored dead
I'll go stark-raving mad.
MAN: Captain Sisko, Admiral Ross
extends his compliments for a job well done
and requests that you and your senior staff
beam to his conference room for debriefing immediately.
Tell the Admiral we're on our way.
Starbase out.
Once again,
thank you for rescuing us, General.
Hmm. Try not to get too comfortable
lounging around the starbase.
We need you back in the fight.
Are you a betting man, General?
One of my many pleasures.
Then a barrel of bloodwine says
I set foot on Deep Space 9 before you do.
( laughs )
Done.
General, I just received word
the replacements from the Vor'nak are here.
Good.
Look at this, Worf—
barely moving.
I'd give my good eye for a plate of fresh gagh.
How many replacements?
Five.
Five?
I requested 15.
General Tanas could only give us five.
( sighs )
We keep falling back.
The Dominion keeps pushing forward.
I tell you, Worf, war is much more fun
when you're winning!
Defeat makes my wounds ache.
pat'leH pum tliH-takk!
Oh, the replacements.
( sighs )
I am General Martok.
Welcome to the Rotarran.
May you prove worthy of this ship
and bring honor to her name.
This is a glorious moment in the history of the Empire
a chapter that will be written with your blood.
Fight well, and our people will sing your praises
for a thousand years.
Fail, and there will be
no more songs, no more honor
no more Empire.
Who among you hears the cry of the warrior
calling you to glory?
ALL: Qapla'!
Who offers their life for the Empire?
N'Garen, daughter of Tse'Dek!
Katogh, son of Ch'Pok!
Koth, son of Larna!
Doran, daughter of W'Mar!
Alexander Rozhenko.
Alexander.
MARTOK: Rozhenko?
Of what House is Rozhenko?
Of no House, sir.
My honor will be my own.
Well...
there will be plenty of honor
for the taking on this ship—
enough for all of you.
I accept your lives into my hands.
Glory to you, and to the Empire!
yih-Ghom-HAH!
This Alexander Rozhenko—
you know him?
He is my son.
Captioning sponsored by PARAMOUNT PICTURES
KIRA ( quietly ): The next thing we need
is a secure way to communicate
with our contacts on Bajor.
Oh...
the Cardassians are extremely adept
at locating the source
of any illicit subspace transmission.
Well, we'll just have to be smarter than they are.
( sighs )
Hi.
Mind if I join you?
( chuckles )
You already have.
I want in.
In on what?
Your resistance cell.
What cell?
Come on, Major
I have my sources.
How reassuring.
I can help.
How?
As a reporter
I hear things— people talk to me.
About what?
Major, all I'm asking for is a chance.
It's time, Major.
Oh...
already?
1457 hours.
The shuttle will be docking in three minutes.
I better get going.
Don't want to keep him waiting.
I see Gul Dukat's still having you meet him
every time he returns to the station.
Like I said, I hear things.
Um...
shouldn't you be wearing your dress uniform?
You look lovely just the way you are.
So am I in or not?
You... don't want to get involved with this.
But... if you are looking
for something to do
I could use another waiter.
( sighs )
Ah, Major Kira!
So good to see you again.
You're out of uniform, Major.
Bajorans could use a lesson in respect.
Damar, please.
This is a happy occasion.
Let's not spoil it.
I have a surprise for you.
Nerys!
Ziyal.
I am so glad to see you.
What are you doing here?
You're supposed to be on Bajor.
I talked her into taking a little sabbatical
from the University.
Talked her into it?
It didn't take much convincing.
Why don't you and I have dinner tonight
and I'll tell you all about it?
All right.
Splendid!
We'll dine in my quarters
at 2200 hours.
Wait a minute, I didn't mean—
I can't tell you how much I've missed you.
Come along, Ziyal.
I'll see you tonight.
All right.
WORF: You sent for me, General.
Orders at last.
We are to escort a convoy to Donatu V.
The last three convoys that were sent there
were destroyed by the Jem'Hadar.
Which is why this one must get through.
How many ships will form the escort?
The Rotarran is all
the High Council can spare.
A vital mission, impossible odds
and a ruthless enemy.
What more could we ask for?
I tell you, Worf, I feel young again.
Here's the briefing.
Start battle drills immediately.
Train them hard.
By the time we join the convoy
they will have the reflexes of a Norpin falcon.
I expect nothing less.
Worf, one moment.
We have shed blood together
escaped from a Jem'Hadar prison together.
You have pledged yourself and your life to my House.
Yet in all this time
you have never once mentioned that you had a son.
It is a... difficult subject to discuss.
That much is obvious.
Alexander and I were never close.
His mother was only half-Klingon and was disdainful of our ways.
I see.
So you allowed her to raise the boy.
No, General.
She was killed when he was very young.
He spent a short time with me aboard the Enterprise
but after that, I sent him to live
with my foster parents on Earth.
Why?
He showed...
no interest in becoming a warrior.
It was difficult, but I learned to accept it
and, in time, encouraged him to find
his own path.
Then why has he joined the Klingon defense forces?
I do not know.
I have not spoken with him.
This is not good, my friend.
When a father and son do not speak
it means there's trouble between them.
General, I prefer to handle this my own way.
Then do so.
( door beeps )
Enter.
Bekk Alexander Rozhenko reporting as ordered, sir.
You have grown.
So I've been told.
How are your grandparents?
Your parents were in good health
when I last saw them.
Do they know you are here?
They weren't pleased about my decision
but when they realized I was determined to enlist
they supported me as they always have.
I know we have not seen each other for some time
but let us talk as father and son.
I am not here to call you "Father."
I am here to serve the Empire.
Serving the Empire was not one of your priorities
when last we spoke.
As you say, that was some time ago.
Did you think enlisting would please me?
Pleasing you did not enter
into my decision.
With all due respect, sir
does this conversation have any bearing
on my duties aboard this ship?
Stop pretending to be a warrior!
We both know you do not belong here!
You heard what I expect
from the rest of the crew.
Twice that, I expect from you.
Do we understand each other?
Perfectly.
You may go.
( sighs )
( door chimes )
Come in.
Nerys, you're early.
I've just started the ramufta.
Ziyal...
I'm not having dinner with you tonight.
Oh.
It's because of my father, isn't it?
That's right.
I thought you might change your mind.
I was hoping I was wrong.
Ziyal, what are you doing back on the station?
Please don't be upset with me.
I know how hard you worked
to arrange things for me on Bajor.
I tried. I really tried.
I'm not upset with you.
I'm...
I'm a little confused.
What happened?
It wasn't any one thing.
The students at the University...
everybody was... polite.
But then I'd see them whispering
in the hallways...
staring at me.
I'm the daughter of Gul Dukat.
My father is leading a war
against the Emissary of the Prophets.
I don't know what made me think I belonged there.
This station is the closest thing I have to a home.
You're here.
My father is here.
But the last time you defied him, he left you here to die.
We talked about that.
He admits he overreacted.
But family loyalty is important
to my father and he felt I betrayed him.
You betrayed him?
I think it's the other way around!
He misses me.
And I've missed him.
I have to give him a chance.
He's all I have, except for you.
I was hoping
you would have dinner with us tonight because...
well, there's something special
I wanted to share with both of you.
But I guess that's impossible.
Uh...
All right, I'll be here.
But I won't guarantee it's going to be any fun.
I promise my father will behave.
( laughing )
( clears throat )
Is this seat taken?
Alexander Rozhenko.
We were holding it just for you.
I am honored.
The honor is ours.
Please.
Bregit lung, an excellent choice!
Would you care for some grapok sauce?
Uh, no, thank you.
Oh, you must try some.
It brings out the flavor.
( laughing )
That's enough.
Thank you.
Some bloodwine to wash it down?
( laughing )
Why are you laughing?
Or perhaps the son of our illustrious First Officer
would prefer an Earth beverage.
A glass of root beer with a lump of ice cream?
Mmm...
( laughing )
Are you mocking me?
Now why would I mock you, son of Worf?
I am called Rozhenko.
I will call you whatever I please.
And you will learn to like it.
( laughing )
( all laughing )
Does the son of Starfleet's finest
think he is too good to eat with us?
No.
Have some lung!
I do not like your smile!
Perhaps I will cut you a new one.
( laughing )
He fights like a Ferengi!
( all laughing )
Shakk-TAH!
( laughter )
Your combat training has been sadly neglected
little one.
I will teach you a new lesson...
one that you will not soon forget!
Enough.
( growls )
You have no right to interfere!
You will both report
to the Medical Ward immediately
and when they have finished with you
you will remain in quarters
until your next watch.
The rest of you, back to your stations!
Now!
Are you going to fight
the Jem'Hadar for him as well?
ZIYAL: Vedek Nane taught me to focus intently
on the image that I want to evoke
to allow it to fully form in my mind
before I even pick up the brush.
Well, what do you think?
They're... very good.
You think so?
They remind me
of Vedek Topek's early work.
How ironic.
I was about to say
they're similar in style to Napart Malor
the founder of the Valonnan School on Cardassia.
The Director of the Cardassian Institute of Art
said the same thing.
You spoke with the Director?
I sent him some of my drawings.
You should have told me, Ziyal.
I could have arranged for you to meet him in person.
I know.
I wanted to do this on my own.
He said I have a real gift.
The Institute is having
an exhibition of new artists next month.
He might want to include my work.
Wonderful!
It's a chance to show
that both Bajorans and Cardassians
look at the universe the same way.
And that's what I want to do with my work—
bring people together.
I guess it sounds a little silly.
On the contrary, my dear
you're quite eloquent.
Are you ready for dessert?
Yes!
I'm not going anywhere.
Good.
I don't believe the change.
I have never seen her so...
Happy? Yeah.
Neither have I, Major.
I mean, she's finally found something—
a talent, a direction.
I'm reluctant to admit it
but you were right to send her to Bajor.
I'm glad it worked out.
We seldom see eye-to-eye, Major
but I know you care about my daughter
and for that, I'm grateful.
There is only one thing I hate
about convoy duty—
it's the waiting.
You'd think after all these years
I'd be used to it.
But nothing breaks the tension better
than a tankard of warnog.
Except maybe a good brawl.
You heard about the fight in the mess hall.
Yes, but not from my First Officer.
I lost him the moment
his son stepped aboard this ship.
You think I acted improperly?
It is not an easy thing to stand aside
and watch someone injure your son.
Alexander was no match for Ch'Targh.
He would have killed the boy.
Ch'Targh might have cut him a little
and maybe broken a few bones
but nothing more.
You told me Alexander never wanted to be a warrior.
Clearly he has changed his mind.
Worf, you are his First Officer.
Teach him to survive.
The Jem'Hadar will be less forgiving
than Ch'Targh.
COM OFFICER: Battle stations.
Alert Status 1. Captain to the Bridge.
MARTOK: Report!
ALEXANDER: Jem'Hadar attack ship
bearing 170 mark 045.
Estimated weapons range
in 22 seconds.
On screen.
Where is it?
I have no target on my sensors.
Switching to manual.
Reroute primary sensors to weapons control.
Aye, sir.
( console beeps )
The Jem'Hadar has launched two torpedoes.
At us or the convoy?
At us.
Impact in ten seconds.
Drop cloak, raise shields, evasive action.
Torpedoes still locked on to us.
They will hit in four seconds.
Three...
Brace for impact.
ALEXANDER: Two...
one...
Reinitialize primary sensors.
Sensors reinitialized.
The Jem'Hadar ship is gone.
Of course it is gone.
You forgot to erase the battle simulation program
from the sensor display.
( sighing )
Stand down from Alert Status, resume course.
Re-activate cloak.
Keep a close watch.
There may be more
hostile simulation programs out there.
( all laughing )
Wait.
He'll never make that mistake again.
It's better that we should be too ready
than not ready enough.
At least you're keeping us on our toes.
( laughing )
( chuckling )
You see, they have accepted him.
They have accepted him as the ship's fool.
In closing, let me emphasize again
that Cardassia's gift of 15 industrial replicators to Bajor
ushers in a new age of cooperation and understanding
between our two peoples.
Hand in hand, we'll march into a new era
of peace and prosperity
as Dominion allies.
( applause )
Thank you, thank you, that will be all.
Ah, Major Kira
may I have a word with you, please?
Have you heard?
The Cardassian Institute of Art
has decided to exhibit three of Ziyal's drawings.
Really? Oh, that's wonderful.
She must be excited.
I'm hosting a celebration for her in my quarters tonight.
I hope you'll join us.
What time?
Uh, 2130...
unless I'm unavoidably delayed.
Ah, the busy life of an interstellar despot.
( laughing )
This is a kar'takin
a weapon favored by the Jem'Hadar.
Defend yourself.
No, that is not the proper grip.
The thumbs must be opposed
so that twisting motions...
I understand!
Then proceed.
( grunting )
No, do not try to shove my blade away.
Deflect it and then use your momentum to counter.
I know!
Then do it.
No, do not try to fight force with force.
You will lose every time.
( grunting )
What did I tell you?
Well, pick it up!
If you had kept practicing
what I taught you when you were a boy
this would be second nature to you by now.
( grunting )
What is wrong with you?
I knew it would be like this.
Like what?
You must be pleased.
Now you can tell me
what a failure I am as a Klingon.
Alexander...
Or are you just going to send me away again?
We are not playing in holosuites now.
This is war.
The Jem'Hadar will cut you to pieces.
Then I will be dead...
and you will be happy.
Now, leave me alone!
( door opens, closes )
( door chimes )
Come in.
What do you want?
From Gul Dukat.
For some reason, he thought you would enjoy
having me deliver it to you.
What is it?
A gift...
for the party tonight.
What the hell am I doing?
Come in.
Ah, Major Kira
what a pleasant surprise.
Come in, come in.
You don't like the dress?
The dress is fine. I don't like you.
( sighs )
Major, that's just not true.
There's a bond
between us.
No.
Only in your mind.
You are an opportunistic power-hungry dictator
and I want nothing more to do with you.
Ziyal would be very disappointed to hear you say that.
She'll get over it.
Please, Nerys, let's sit down.
We'll talk about it.
No.
We won't.
( sighs ): Nerys.
Nerys...
Who was that?
A delivery.
It's a little something for you to wear to the party tonight.
Do you like it?
It's beautiful.
You can be so thoughtful.
I try.
( grunting )
Continue.
Hmm... fine blade, well balanced.
But in the end
it is only as good as the warrior who wields it.
I need more practice.
Tell me, Alexander Rozhenko...
why are you on my ship?
To serve the Empire, General.
That is a slogan, not an answer.
Say what is in your heart.
Do you ask every new crewman this question?
I have no need to.
I look in their faces, and I know why they are here.
They are Klingon warriors.
They have answered the call of Kahless.
So have I.
Oh...
lie to yourself, if you must, but not to me.
You do not hear the warrior's call.
I ask again, why are you here?
I'd rather not say.
What?
It's a private matter.
( groans )
You're as tightlipped as your father.
I am nothing like him.
Both stubborn, tiresome qu'vatlh.
The only difference is I need him.
I do not need you.
All I ask is a chance to prove myself.
I just gave you one
and you failed.
Your father has requested
that you be transferred off this ship.
He has no right.
He has every right
both as your superior officer and as your father.
At 2317, you will transport to the Cargo Vessel Par'tok.
Collect your gear.
Now.
You are fortunate that I am your father.
If you had challenged anyone else in that manner
you would be dead right now.
If you want me off this ship
you're going to have to kill me.
Alexander, I do not want to hurt you.
I want to help you.
By getting rid of me?
All you've ever done my whole life is send me away.
I am a Klingon warrior.
I lead a warrior's life.
This is not the path for you.
You told me this yourself.
And I have come to accept it.
You call yourself my father
but you haven't tried to see me or talk to me in five years.
I wasn't the kind of son you wanted
so you pretended that you had no son.
You never accepted me.
You abandoned me.
MARTOK: Battle stations!
Alert Status 1.
( alarm blares )
ALEXANDER: Aft Thruster Compartment fire now contained.
Shields at 60 percent.
N'GAREN: ELN and TRC off-line!
And the Jem'Hadar?
ALEXANDER: Which one, sir?
The one shooting at us!
His aft shields are down to 25... no, 20 percent
and he's losing antiprotons from his starboard nacelle.
Weapons, lock on that nacelle. Fire at will.
Full pattern.
( screams )
N'GAREN: We've lost target lock.
Switching to manual.
MARTOK: Helm, bring us to 317 mark 045.
Weapons, can you hit him?
Negative, he's out of range.
We've lost internal communications.
Come to course 020 mark 7—
There's plasma venting from the primary
impulse injector on deck 5.
Subspace transceiver array off-line.
Worf, get that plasma leak under control
before we lose the entire deck.
( yelling )
MARTOK: Status!
N'GAREN: Impulse injector temperature approaching critical.
Injector breach immanent.
I can seal the leak.
CREWMAN: Reinitializing matrix sequencer.
I'm of no use to you here.
I will go with him.
It will take
at least two of us
to secure the injector before it explodes.
Go.
MARTOK: Engineering, reroute
all auxiliary power to the disrupters.
Disengage overload suppressor.
Worf, put us off
the Jem'Hadar's starboard quarter.
Weapons, continue to target
his damaged nacelle.
Helm, on my command
reduce impulse power to one third.
Bring us to course 355 mark 090.
Weapons...
be ready for him to pass in front of us.
Course laid in.
Weapons standing by.
Now.
( beeping )
Well done.
Captain, permission to leave the Bridge?
Go.
Stand down from Alert Status.
N'Garen, take the helm.
Report.
We sealed the impulse injector, Commander.
Where's my son?
Trapped in that corridor, sir.
After we secured the injector
I sent him in there to put the tools away
and somehow, he tripped
the emergency lockdown.
We are trying to override it
now.
( coughing )
You locked yourself in?
Yes, sir.
( laughter )
Come.
Nerys!
You didn't come to the party last night.
I'm sorry.
I couldn't.
I think you know why.
Please don't ask me to choose between you.
I'm not.
There's no choice— he's your father.
I cannot change the mistakes I have made
but from this day forward
I promise I will stand with you.
We'll see if you mean it.
Yes, we will.
What you are about to do entails a grave obligation.
Do not accept it lightly.
I understand
and I accept.
Good.
I will teach you
what you need to know to be a warrior.
And you will teach me
what I need to know to be a father.
Come.
Martok degh, to-Duq degh
bat-LEH degh, mat-LEH degh.
Martok degh. Martok degh.
Alexander, vih-nob d'k tahg.
wachk ihw, wachk kkor-duh.
wachk ihw...
wachk kkor-duh.
mat-LEH gih-Hegh.
DaH!
Welcome to the House of Martok, Alexander...
son of Worf.
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Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org