"I give up!  It isn’t fair!  No matter how far back you stand, you always manage to make at least two bull’s-eyes in a row!" Chief Miles O’Brien sat down at a nearby table after making that cross statement. The Chief was a stout Irishman with curly brownish-blonde hair.  He folded his arms across his barrel chest and frowned at his friend, waiting for a response.  "Well?  What have you got to say for yourself?"
    Doctor Julian Bashir’s copper-colored eyes had a helpless look to them.  He put down the dart he had been holding and let his trim and muscular body collapse into a chair.  He ran a hand through his neatly cut brown hair and smiled apologetically.  "I’m sorry Chief, but it isn’t my fault!  No matter how hard I try, the dart always seems to find its way to the bull’s-eye!"
    The Chief softened a bit and sighed in resignation.  "I suppose it isn’t exactly your fault.  I mean, I guess your genetically enhanced brain can’t help but--"
    "Chief O’Brien and Doctor Bashir, report to the conference lounge immediately.  Sisko out."  The station’s commanding officer, Captain Benjamin Sisko, was the voice that interrupted O’Brien.
    "Well, we’d better go and see what’s up."  Bashir lead the way out of Quark’s Bar toward the conference lounge.
    "Just a moment there, gentlemen.  Your bill!"  O’Brien turned to Quark, the owner of the establishment.  Quark was a Ferengi, a race of gamblers and dirty businessmen.  Ferengi were generally short with huge ears and a bald head.  Quark was no exception.
    "Sorry, Quark.  Here you are," O’Brien tossed two credits onto the bar.
    The reply dripped with sarcasm.  "Thank you so very much for paying!"
    Bashir rolled his eyes and chuckled.  "Goodbye, Quark."  He and O’Brien resumed their journey to the conference lounge and the very important meeting.
   *   *   *
    "As soon as Commander Dax and Commander Worf arrive, we can get down to business," said Captain Sisko.  He was slightly annoyed at the tardiness of his officers.  Sisko was a tall, imposing human, with chocolate-brown skin and a thin goatee.  His shaved head accentuated his dark eyebrows and deep, dark brown eyes.  His uniform, and all the officer’s uniforms, for that matter, was nearly black with gray covering the shoulders.  He was a fair man and quite the capable captain.  He was respected by his crew and just about anyone who met him.
    The officers he spoke of were a newlywed couple that was prone to be late to meetings and other gatherings.  Commander Jadzia Dax was the Trill science officer and Commander Worf was a Klingon executive officer.  They were very smitten with each other and everyone around them was unable to ignore it.
    Everyone, especially Dr. Bashir.  As he waited for Dax and Worf to arrive, he nervously fidgeted with the padding on the arm of his chair.  Late again!  Where could they be I wonder?  Or rather, what could they be doing I wonder?  Ha!  As if I didn’t know!   Bashir mused silently.  It’s a good thing I gave Jadzia her own dermal regenerator.  Otherwise, she’d be in the infirmary getting treatment for those romps she and Worf have.  I don’t think I could treat her even if I wanted to.  I’d probably end up making some kind of disgusted face!  Or, maybe I might burst into tears.  What a fool I was!  Quark was right.  I let her slip through my fingers, and now I can’t get her back.  Ever.
    His bitter thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the late officers.  He looked at the edge of the table in front of him, trying to look relaxed and casual.  He hoped that he was succeeding.  He didn’t want anyone to notice his current bad mood.
    "Ahem.  Glad you could join us, Commanders." Sisko arched an eyebrow at the two entering.
    Dax smiled sheepishly.  "Sorry, we were—"
    "I don’t want to know!  Just sit down so we can get started."  Sisko quickly skirted the issue of their tardiness.
    Dax smiled at Sisko.  She was what many would call gorgeous.  She had dark chestnut hair that was tied conservatively behind her head.  She had flawless porcelain skin whose perfection was interrupted only by the dark Trill spots that dotted the sides of her forehead and went down all the way to the tips of her toes.  Her smile had all the power and brightness of a thousand watt bulb.  Her eyes were the most beautiful part of her, though.  Eyes of the deepest and purest blue.  Eyes that a man could drown in if he allowed himself look into them.  They sparkled with laughter and mystery, with brilliance.  She was practically a goddess.  And she was married to Worf.
    Worf was a sharp contrast to her beauty.  He was a hulking Klingon whose trademark forehead ridges only accentuated his ever-present frown.  His eyes did not sparkle brilliantly as hers did.  They were the color of black mud, and just as dull.  He was as humorless as he was pessimistic.  Despite his faults, honor and duty were extremely important to him, he was a very good officer, and a valuable member of the crew.
    All these observations had been evident to Julian Bashir for quite some time now.  He was especially aware of Jadzia’s beauty.  He had drowned in her eyes once or twice himself.  He didn’t have any more time to regret past mistakes, though, because the Captain began speaking.
    "I just received an important message from Starfleet Command about a new Federation Membership applicant.  They are an extremely advanced alien race called the J’ka’lla.  They, apparently, live around here.  Their homeworld is only about 3 light-years from Bajor.  They have technology that can help our ships move at speeds up to warp 12, cut down on energy use, and strengthen shields up to 35% more!"
    "But wait a minute!  If they have this technology, why don’t they just use it themselves?  Why share it with the Federation?  With Starfleet?"  The speaker was Major Kira Nerys, the station’s Bajoran first officer.  Her dark brown eyes were on fire, and her ridged Bajoran nose made tiny shadows on her face.  Sisko relied on her to be his voice of reason.  Sisko had known her ever since her home world, Bajor, had been liberated from fifty years of oppression caused a brutal alien race called the Cardassians.  The Cardassians had been forced off Deep Space Nine, the station orbiting Bajor, and Starfleet had been called in.  Sisko had become the commander of the station, and Kira his first officer.  From the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she would be the suspicious type.  Indeed, she was suspicious of him, the Federation, Starfleet, and anything else that might pose a threat to her people.  She was never too quick to let her guard down, but had learned long ago to trust him and all the other senior staff.  Now, that token suspicion that had become her trademark was evident in her voice.  She leaned forward, anticipating an answer, and the overhead lighting shone in her close cropped red hair.
    "They don’t have the resources to build very many ships of the size and capacity that is needed to manifest their ideas, but they are technological geniuses.  They want to help us defeat the Dominion and Cardassia.  Three of their five moons were obliterated by the Dominion.  If it weren’t for an Alpha Quadrant fleet passing by on their way to another battle, their homeworld would have been taken.  They want to repay us.  They want this war to stop as much as we do.  Their proposed membership is bringing up some opposition.  Apparently Starfleet and the Federation share a few of the Major’s doubts, so three J’ka’llan ambassadors will be arriving on the station in two days.  Starfleet officials will also be arriving.  They will either approve or deny the membership over the course of a two-day debate session.  The J’ka’lla will be evaluated, and the decision will be made.  Our job is simply to host this event.  The ambassadors will undoubtedly bring other J’ka’llans with them, so be prepared for some new faces around here."
    "All friendly faces, I hope."
    "Of course, Chief.  What else would they be?"
    "Well, I don’t know, it just seems like Starfleet is rushing into this. I mean, is Starfleet just gonna give them some ships to equip with a new warp drive and God knows what else?  Who knows what kinds of weapons they may have?" The Engineering Chief’s brow was crinkled into a worried frown.
    "That would be a possibility Chief, except that the J’ka’llans don’t have any weapons."
    "Well, what’s to stop them from creating some?  If they’re such technological geniuses, let them get one look at a diagram of our weapon systems and they’ll come up with something just like it if not better!"
    "The J’ka’llans’ motives and intentions will both be reviewed and investigated during the debates.  Plus, they have no history of war or violence on their planet, and it is possible to have violence without phasers or other advanced weaponry, Chief.  They don’t even have any cases of political unrest!  They are a harmless, peaceful race who simply want to return a favor!"
    At this statement from Sisko, Chief O’Brien reluctantly backed down.  He still appeared to have considerable doubts.  It still seemed too good to be true.  He hoped Starfleet wasn’t making a big, possibly deadly, mistake.
    Dr. Bashir was stunned at this news.  He hoped that O’Brien’s fears were unfounded.  He certainly didn’t want another war to deal with.  Not now, not so soon after the Dominion had been driven off Deep Space Nine.  No one was ready.
   *   *   *
    The J’ka’llan ambassadors arrived the foretold two days later.  They came to the station in three tiny ships only slightly larger than a runabout.  The ships weren’t, in fact equipped with weapons, much to Chief O’Brien’s great relief.  The Starfleet officials arrived the same day and a "welcome" ceremony was to be held in the conference lounge.
    All of DS9’s senior officers arrived in dress uniform to greet the newcomers.  When the J’ka’llans entered, all conversation in the room ceased.  They were willowy creatures, about six feet tall each.  They wore full-length red robes that failed to cover their two long feet.  They had abnormally large, bald heads, and their eyes were small, beady, set too close together and were the color of pale jade.  They possessed no ears and a barely had a nose.  The mouth, if you could call it that, was nothing but a thin, emotionless line.  As Sisko gazed into the pupil-less, pale eyes of the leader, he barely suppressed the urge to shudder.  The "mouth" which remained the straight, motionless line secretly disturbed him.  Sisko regained his composure enough to greet the aliens warmly enough.
     Welcome to Deep Space Nine!  I’m Captain Benjamin Sisko, commander of this station," He motioned to the admirals standing next to him.  "Admiral Gromek, Admiral Brackett, and Admiral Haftel will be evaluating your membership application."
    The leader spoke.  His voice was thin and reedy.  Many in the room were visibly disturbed.
    "Thank you, Captain.  We look forward to the days ahead and to our.... hopeful..... membership in the Federation.  I am Head Dok Ja’kul.  These are my aides: Kil Re’mar and Kil Mach’il," All three aliens bowed and the corners of their mouths turned up slightly.  Very slightly.
    "Well then!  Come, gentleman and join the festivities!"  Sisko said, leading the ambassadors toward the admirals.
    The rest of the senior staff mingled with one another.  Specifically, Dax tried to get Worf to retell a funny story that he’d apparently told earlier.
    "C’mon Worf!  It was so funny!  Please?" Dax tugged on Worf’s sleeve.
    "If you think that it was so funny, why don’t you tell it?"  Worf responded with a scowl.  Well, more of a scowl than usual.
    "No!  You tell it so much better than I do!  Do it for me?  For your wife?"  Dax pleaded with him with a beseeching and winsome half-smile on her face and a playful glint in her eyes.  She even got dangerously close to the deadly "puppy dog face".  Finally, Worf relented.
    "The other day, I was sitting in Quark’s drinking prune juice, when suddenly I saw a very drunken Klingon warrior leaving.  He was so drunk, that he failed to see the rim of the door.  In a drunken haze, he tripped over the rim and fell on his face.  When he finally managed to right himself, he was heard to exclaim ‘Hey!  Who put that there?’"  Worf finished with this exclamation and looked around for a reaction.
    Dax was laughing hysterically.  She laughed and laughed until Bashir, O’Brien, Kira, and Security Chief Odo, an alien with the ability to change his shape to anything, could swear they saw tears in her eyes.  She was laughing so hard that she had to put her hand on Bashir’s shoulder to keep from falling over.  Her hand was icy, in accordance with Trill physiology.  All Trill have cold hands.  When her laughter subsided, she looked around to see what everyone else thought.  All she saw was confused faces and sympathetic headshakes.
    "Well?  Wasn’t that funny?"  Everyone tried not to look at her.  O’Brien appeared to be fascinated with his drink.  Kira fiddled with her earring.  Odo studied his fingers.  Bashir looked at the floor.  Worf sighed heavily and walked away.
    Jadzia smiled crookedly.  "Well, I thought it was funny," she said sheepishly and followed Worf away.
    There she goes.  Always following him wherever he may lead.  Julian sighed and took a drink from Quark.  He had had Jadzia on his mind ever since she and Worf had gone on that mission to pick up a Cardassian defector.  Julian and Miles had challenged Quark to a game of Tongo, a Ferengi gambler's game a bit like poker.  Miles was simply no good at Tongo, and Julian was brilliant at it, so only Julian was to play.  During the game, Quark had dredged up the subject of Jadzia marrying Worf to throw him off balance.  It had worked.  Julian had lost the game because he was too preoccupied with the loss of Jadzia.  While Jadzia was courting Worf, Julian had told himself ‘You’re over her.  You don’t love her anymore.  You’re just good friends.’  But he had been lying.  He had been lying to himself, his friends, and most of all, to Jadzia.
    When Worf and Dax finally returned from the mission, Jadzia was nearly dead and had to go into immediate surgery.  Julian had performed surgery and Jadzia had barely made it.  Now, at the welcome reception, Julian found himself too depressed to remain there.
    "Miles, would you give my sincerest apologies to the Captain?  There are some important test results from a recent project that I forgot to go over.  I have to leave early.  Excuse me."
    "Sure, Julian.  See you later."  O’Brien watched him go, puzzled by his sudden disappearance.