Star.Trek.DS9.4x10.Our.Man.Bashir.DVDRip.XviD-VF

A lot of kick for a '45 Dom.

 

Thank you, Mister...?

 

Mister...?

 

Bashir.

 

Julian Bashir.

 

Who's that?

 

An uninvited guest.

 

Excuse me.

 

Nice tux. Thank you.

 

Now...

 

get out.

 

But, Doctor,
I've only just arrived.

 

Breaking into a holosuite during someone's
program is not only rude,

 

it's illegal. I should call Odo
and have you arrested.

 

What an extreme reaction
that would be.

 

You must be very embarrassed
by this program.

 

I'm not embarrassed.

 

I'm annoyed that you have
intruded into my privacy.

 

Oh, privacy, indeed.

 

I think it goes far deeper
than that, Doctor.

 

Ever since you've received
this new program,

 

you've spent virtually
every free hour in the holosuite.

 

But you haven't told anyone
what the program is.

 

Am I supposed to?

 

No, no. No.

 

But you're such a...

 

forgive me...

 

a talkative man

 

and it's so unusual
for you to have secrets.

 

I must have picked up
that habit from you.

 

Now, if you will excuse me.

 

Is this fantasy of yours...

 

truly revealing
of your inner psyche?

 

- What?
- Is that why you're so protective?

 

Are you afraid
that I'll find out some...

 

humiliating secrets
of the real Julian Bashir?

 

This is a fantasy.
I'm not hiding anything.

 

Well, if you've nothing to hide,
then why not let me stay?

 

- All right.
- Ah.

 

Now, I have to be at work in two hours,
and I'd like to enjoy myself.

 

So keep quiet
and don't rain on my parade.

 

Parade?

 

Never mind.

 

Don't worry, Doctor.
I can be very discreet.

 

You'll barely know I'm here.

 

Good.

 

But if I may make
one observation...

 

- Garak...
- I only want to point out that...

 

your lovely companion
is leaving.

 

Odd.

 

She seemed so interested in your advances
just a moment ago.

 

I wonder what scared her away.

 

Oh, no.

 

I do apologize.

 

You must be incensed.

 

In fact,
if I were in your shoes

 

I'd grab a bottle of champagne
and shoot me.

 

I can see I'm going
to regret this.

 

Don't worry, Doctor.

 

We're going to have
a wonderful time.

 

After all, what could
possibly go wrong?

 

You live here?

 

That's right.

 

Decorate it yourself?

 

The decor is appropriate
for the period 1964.

 

How did you pronounce
the name of this city?

 

Kowloon.
It's part of Hong Kong.

 

And the nightclub was in Paris which

 

if I remember correctly, was on the
other side of the planet.

 

Mr. Bashir.

 

I didn't expect
you home so soon.

 

I decided to leave Paris
a little early.

 

Allow me to introduce
my friend, Mr. Garak.

 

Garak, this is
my personal valet, Mona Luvsitt.

 

Pleased to make
your acquaintance.

 

Would you like to change
into something more comfortable?

 

Oh, that would be perfect.

 

Let's see if we can find
Mr. Garak something as well.

 

I'll see what I can do.

 

Would you like me
to put this away?

 

Please.

 

Care for a drink?

 

Not just yet.

 

Is she your valet,
or your personal assassin?

 

Valet.
Mona's very capable.

 

She speaks seven languages

 

has degrees in biology,
chemistry, physics

 

can fly anything
from a jet to a helicopter

 

and makes an excellent martini.

 

Cheers.

 

Is there anything else
I can do for you?

 

I'll let you know.

 

I take it your character
is some kind of rich dilettante

 

with a fascination
for women and weapons.

 

Actually, my character
is far more disreputable.

 

I'm a spy.

 

A spy?

 

And you live here?

 

Yes.

 

I work for one of the nation-states
of this era, Great Britain

 

which is battling
various other nations

 

in what is called
the "Cold War."

 

This apartment, my clothes,
weapons, even my valet

 

were provided to me
by my government.

 

I think I joined
the wrong intelligence service.

 

Orinoco to Deep Space 9.

 

This is Captain Sisko
requesting landing clearance.

 

Welcome back, Captain.

 

You're cleared to set down
on Landing Pad 3.

 

How was the conference?

 

Informative, but I've got
a ship full of tired officers here.

 

I think we'll all be happy
to be in our own beds tonight.

 

I can imagine.

 

There's some message traffic
from Starfleet Command

 

for you to look at,
but nothing...

 

Captain, there's some kind
of power surge in the warp core.

 

Looks like a fluctuation
in the plasma coils.

 

We'd better take
the warp core off line.

 

I can't.

 

There's something wrong
with the command control systems.

 

I'm completely locked out.

 

Magnetic interlocks are failing.

 

Warp core breach is imminent.

 

Eject the warp core.

 

The ejection system
isn't responding.

 

Correction.
The ejection system is missing.

 

We've been sabotaged.

 

Ten seconds to warp core breach.

 

Orinoco, cut your impulse engines
and drop your deflectors.

 

We're going to try
to beam you out of there.

 

Acknowledged.

 

Cut main power.

 

I've locked on.
Energizing.

 

What happened?

 

Captain Sisko's runabout exploded while
I was trying to beam them back.

 

Some of the energy traveled
back along the transporter beam

 

and blew up
the primary energizing coils.

 

Do we still have their patterns?

 

Yes, they're in the buffer.

 

But the patterns will start to degrade
if not used immediately.

 

We need to store
the patterns somewhere.

 

No, this is more complicated than just
an ordinary transporter pattern.

 

We're going to have to preserve all the
neural signatures of everyone on that runabout.

 

Do you know how much memory
it would take

 

to save just one person's neural
signature, much less five?

 

I don't think
we have any choice.

 

Computer, I need to store all data
currently in the transporter pattern buffer.

 

Where can I save it?

 

There is insufficient computer
memory to save the data.

 

Pattern buffer
is beginning to lose coherence.

 

The patterns will start
to degrade any second now.

 

Computer, what if we wiped all computer
memory in every system on the station,

 

and then stored the patterns?

 

That procedure
has not been tested.

 

It cannot be predicted.

 

The buffer is depolarizing.

 

Computer, this is
a command priority override.

 

Wipe all computer memory
necessary

 

in order to save the patterns
from the buffer.

 

Authorization: Eddington-
065-alpha enabled.

 

Executing command override.

 

Tricorder.

 

The buffer's lost coherence.

 

The patterns are gone.

 

Did the computer
save them in time?

 

I think so,
but I'm not sure where.

 

Thank you, my dear.

 

Yes, this should do nicely.

 

AIthough I'm not too sure
about the collar.

 

It's perfect.

 

Oh?

 

I'll have these cleaned
right away.

 

Thank you.

 

Isn't this a rather
ostentatious life for a spy?

 

It's all part of my cover.

 

I'm posing as a wealthy jet-setter
so I have to act like one.

 

Jet-setter?

 

People of this era
used to travel in...

 

Julian.

 

I must have fallen asleep.

 

Very funny.

 

Who else did you invite
along with you today?

 

Well, this wasn't my idea.

 

Major?

 

Colonel, actually.

 

Colonel Anastasia Komananov,
KGB.

 

Oh, Julian, I never thought
I'd see you alive again.

 

Not after you fell out
of that dirigible over lceland.

 

I had a parachute

 

and there was a submarine there
waiting for me.

 

But how did you know about that?

 

Have you been downloading
my holosuite program?

 

Oh, Julian, you are not well.

 

Let's lie down.

 

I must say Major Kira's certainly throwing
herself into the role, Doctor.

 

Nerys, please...

 

Who is this Major Nerys Kira?

 

Kira Nerys, actually.

 

Perhaps...

 

this isn't Major Kira after all.

 

I'm beginning
to think you're right.

 

Computer, restore the image of Colonel
Komananov back to its original parameters.

 

Unable to comply.

 

The character parameters of
Colonel Komananov are correct.

 

I'd say someone's been tampering
with your program, Doctor.

 

Julian, we don't
have time for games.

 

There is much to talk about.

 

Excuse me.

 

Computer, freeze program.

 

Unable to comply.

 

Computer control has been disrupted
due to station-wide emergency.

 

Emergency?

 

Bashir to Ops.
What's going on?

 

We've got our hands full
right now, Doctor. Stand by.

 

Odo, wait.

 

Doctor, where are you

 

and do you have access
to a working computer console?

 

I'm in Holosuite 3.

 

The program's running, but it
won't comply with my commands.

 

The program is still running?

 

I demand to know
who you are talking to.

 

Julian, tell me!

 

That sounded like Kira.

 

Not exactly.

 

Someone has replaced one of the characters
with the image of Major Kira.

 

What's going on?

 

Stay where you are, Doctor.

 

Keep the program running for now.
We'll get right back to you.

 

Julian, talk to me.

 

Tell me what is happening.

 

I'm not sure myself.

 

Ops to Bashir. Doctor?

 

Whatever you do,
don't end that program.

 

Why not?

 

There's been
a transporter accident.

 

We believe the holosuite memory core

 

is holding the transporter patterns
of five crew members.

 

If you stop the program,
their patterns might be lost.

 

How could that happen?

 

It's a long story,
but, at this moment,

 

the patterns of Captain Sisko, Kira,
Worf, Dax and O'Brien

 

exist only
in the holosuite database.

 

Don't leave the holosuite.

 

If you do, it might disrupt
the holo-imaging array

 

and right now,
we can't take any chances.

 

You'll have to stay in there
and keep the program running for now.

 

Understood.

 

We'll get back to you, Doctor.

 

Oh, Julian...

 

you are so tense.

 

It's been one of those days.

 

I wish I could relax you

 

but I am here on business.

 

In the last 24 hours

 

a series of earthquakes have struck cities
from Vladivostok to New York.

 

Our seismologists
have analyzed the earthquakes

 

and have come to the conclusion
that they are artificial.

 

So? That's not so difficult.

 

One only has to...

 

Garak.

 

Your friend
seems to know something.

 

Believe me, he knows nothing.

 

If you say so.

 

Because of the global nature
of this crisis

 

my government and yours
have decided to cooperate.

 

We will be working...

 

very closely.

 

I'm sure we will.

 

Our assignment is to find out

 

who caused the earthquakes
and what they want.

 

A rather vague assignment.

 

We do have one clue.

 

One of the world's
leading seismologists

 

Professor Honey Bare,
has vanished.

 

We believe...
she has been kidnapped.

 

I didn't think
she was your type.

 

You said she's been kidnapped?

 

We think so.

 

She disappeared only a few hours before
the first quake struck New York City.

 

Doctor, we're in the middle
of an emergency.

 

Is this really the time
to be playing games?

 

Look.

 

Interesting.

 

If Honey Bare is killed, the computer
will erase her character from its program.

 

Now, since the program thinks
that Dax is Honey Bare...

 

The computer would actually be
erasing Commander Dax's pattern.

 

Kira... uh, Ana.

 

Do you have any idea
where Professor Bare is?

 

She was last seen...

 

I'll be right with you, Mona.

 

Chief...

 

No.

 

It's Falcon.

 

Nice to see you, Mr. Bashir.

 

Now I think we have
a little unfinished business.

 

Surprised to see me, Mr. Bashir?

 

You could say that.

 

Well, you should use something
a little more lethal than a champagne cork.

 

Something...

 

Iike this.

 

Wait.

 

Wait, please.

 

Let us have one last kiss.

 

Why not?

 

I've always been
a romantic at heart.

 

Earring.

 

All right, Bashir,
that's enough.

 

Interesting jewelry.

 

I bought those
for Anastasia last Christmas.

 

You're bleeding.

 

Well, the holosuite safeties
must be off.

 

Time to clip
this bird's wings.

 

No!

 

Nyet!
What are you doing?

 

We can't kill him.

 

Julian, what are you saying?

 

He's been trying to kill you
for nine years.

 

I wouldn't dismiss her idea
so quickly, Doctor.

 

But that's Miles.

 

No, as you pointed out,
he's Falcon.

 

A hired assassin who's going to do
everything he can to kill you

 

and without the holosuite safeties
in place, he may just do that.

 

Well, what do you want me to do...
kill him?

 

I want you to stop
treating this like a game

 

where everything's going to
turn out all right in the end.

 

Real spies
have to make hard choices.

 

You want to save Dax?

 

Fine, but you may not have
the luxury of saving everyone.

 

Who is Dax?

 

Eventually, you may have
to let someone die.

 

I'll deal with that situation
if and when it happens.

 

In the meantime,
we have to find Dax.

 

Who is Dax?

 

Ana, I promise I'll
explain everything later.

 

Now, you said Professor
Bare had been kidnapped.

 

Do you have any suspects?

 

We believe that Dr. Noah
is behind the abductions.

 

During the last two years,

 

he has kidnapped an elite group of 60
artisans and scientists from around the world.

 

No one knows why
or where he has taken them

 

but our sources tell us
that each of the missing peoples

 

was invited to meet Dr. Noah
at a club in Paris

 

shortly before they disappeared.

 

The Club lngenue.

 

Da.

 

I had a feeling.

 

Sorry, my dear.

 

I hope you remember
how to tie a bow tie.

 

We're going to Paris.

 

Who is Dax?

 

I've had to make a few modifications to
this holosuite over the years.

 

A few?
It's like a junkyard in here.

 

My brother won't let me
buy new components

 

so I've had to scavenge
for what I need.

 

I'm barely breaking even
on the holosuites as it is.

 

If I had to buy new equipment
every time there was a glitch...

 

Where's the core
memory interface?

 

Oh...

 

it's...
right behind the spatula.

 

The spatula?

 

It's made of a copper-ytterbium composite
the perfect plasma conductor.

 

I found them.

 

All five of their physical
patterns are in here...

 

and they're stable.

 

Why here?

 

The holosuite is specifically designed
to store highly complex energy patterns.

 

The computer's processing
their physical patterns

 

as if they were
holosuite characters.

 

The trouble is...

 

I'm not reading
any neural energy.

 

Neural energy has to be stored
at the quantum level.

 

The holosuite can't handle that.

 

So, if their physical bodies
are stored here

 

where are their brain patterns?

 

Everywhere else.

 

Their brain patterns are so large

 

that they're taking up every bit of
computer memory on the station...

 

replicator memory,
weapons, life supports.

 

He may be right.

 

So what do we do about it?

 

How do we get them back?

 

Uh, I'd like to see Dr. Noah.
I have an invitation.

 

May I see your invitation?

 

Dr. Noah?

 

I am Duchamps.
I am Dr. Noah's... associate.

 

May l?

 

My name's Merriweather...

 

Patrick Merriweather,
and this is my wife

 

Anastasia,
and my friend, Mr. Garak.

 

Charmed.

 

Your invitation,
Mr. Merriweather.

 

I... don't have one.

 

Dr. Noah does not like
unexpected guests.

 

Oh, I believe Dr. Noah would be
very interested in meeting my husband.

 

He's one of the leading
geologists in the world.

 

Now, why would that
interest Dr. Noah?

 

Oh, we believe he's taken
quite an interest in the sciences.

 

After all, he has invited several
of the world's top scientists to this...

 

club.

 

Isn't that true?

 

I must say,
I feel a little insulted

 

by being left out
of such an illustrious group.

 

How unfortunate.

 

Of course...

 

a meeting still can be arranged...
for a price.

 

Oh?

 

Five million francs.

 

No problem.

 

I do not understand.

 

Where's the rest
of your money?

 

Right in front of you.

 

Shall we begin?

 

A Cardassian separatist group
calling themselves "The True Way"

 

has claimed responsibility
for sabotaging the runabout.

 

Ever heard of them before?

 

Mmm. They're opposed
to the peace treaty.

 

They blame the Federation for Cardassia's
economic and political troubles, et cetera,
et cetera.

 

Until now, they've never committed any
terrorist actions to support their beliefs.

 

What have you found?

 

From what we can tell,
Quark was right.

 

The computer has stored the neural energy
patterns of everyone on the runabout

 

throughout the entire station.

 

Don't everyone thank me at once.

 

What we need to do
is reintegrate their neural patterns

 

with their physical patterns
from the holosuite

 

and rematerialize them.

 

I say we use the Defiant.

 

Its power systems and computers
are independent of the station

 

and it has its own transporter.

 

Sounds good, except...

 

Except what?

 

Well, my equipment isn't designed
to interface with Starfleet systems.

 

I may have to make
some modifications.

 

Card.

 

Nine.

 

Five million francs.

 

You're quite a baccarat player,
Mr. Merriweather.

 

Baccarat and geology
are my life.

 

Now then, Mr. Duchamps, I believe
I've met your conditions.

 

When do we leave?

 

Right now.

 

Another decorator's nightmare.

 

This era had
a distinct lack of taste.

 

Where are we?

 

Welcome to paradise,
Mr. Merriweather.

 

I believe you've
been looking for me.

 

My name is Hippocrates Noah.

 

Mr. Merriweather...

 

I understand
your field is geology.

 

That's right.

 

Then I am sure you can appreciate
the stones in my most recent acquisition.

 

A most striking display...

 

of rubies... tourmaline...

 

sapphire... topaz...

 

and judging by the high chromium
content of the rubies,

 

I'd say they come from the hydrothermal
deposits on the Tibetan plateau...

 

which isn't surprising

 

considering we're on the southeastern
slope of Mt. Everest at about...

 

22,000 feet, I should say.

 

25, actually.

 

You must not get many tourists.

 

My guests and I
place a premium on our privacy.

 

We don't want any unwelcomed guests
such as men sent by governments

 

who disagree
with my political philosophy.

 

And what is your philosophy?

 

Are you some kind of anarchist?

 

Quite the opposite.

 

I believe in an orderly world...

 

a far cry from the chaos
we find ourselves in today.

 

We are building
a new future here.

 

A new beginning for mankind.

 

A new chapter in human history

 

will open right here
on my island.

 

Island?

 

Forgive me.

 

Sometimes I do
get ahead of myself.

 

Allow me to explain.

 

We're almost ready.

 

I've programmed
the laser sequence

 

and I'm making some last-minute
adjustments to a South American site.

 

I do have every confidence
in you, my dear.

 

She's working with him.

 

You see, Mr. Merriweather

 

not only do I intend
to create a new future

 

I intend to create a new world.

 

At each one of these points

 

I have hidden
a new form of laser...

 

one that can penetrate the Earth's crust
down into the mantle itself.

 

The global earthquakes.

 

Those were only tests.

 

Soon, I will activate
all of these lasers together

 

and when I do,

 

they will produce worldwide earthquakes
the likes of which we have never felt before.

 

Killing everyone on the planet.

 

More than that.

 

There comes a time

 

when a house has been
so damaged by termites

 

that you must not only kill the termites,

 

but demolish the house

 

and build again.

 

The quakes are only
a minor side effect.

 

The real goal of this project
is to have these lasers of mine

 

produce massive fissures
in the Earth's crust

 

releasing millions of tons
of molten lava.

 

Now, Mr. Merriweather,
you're the geologist.

 

Tell me, what happens next?

 

Once that much lava is released

 

the tectonic plates
would begin to settle.

 

And the surface of the planet
will shrink

 

just like letting air
out of a balloon.

 

But if the surface of the Earth...

 

shrinks

 

the oceans...

 

Will cover the Earth.

 

Diabolical.

 

Visionary.

 

I am going to let mankind...

 

begin anew...

 

here...

 

on this island paradise.

 

The only place that will remain
above water on my brave new world.

 

And that is why I have gathered
the finest minds,

 

the very best
that mankind has to offer.

 

We will repopulate and
start a new human race.

 

Pity you won't be able
to join us.

 

Are you revoking my invitation?

 

Oh, I intend to do more
than that... Mr. Bashir.

 

Not only have I brought the greatest minds
to my mountain retreat

 

but I have also hired
the greatest protection

 

that money can buy.

 

I believe you already know
my newest employee.

 

Is all this really necessary?

 

It's the best I can do.

 

How long until we're ready
to try retrieving their patterns?

 

I'd say... another hour.

 

O'Brien's going to kill me
when he gets back.

 

This is one of 74 lasers
that I've deployed around the world.

 

When I throw that switch

 

it will begin a five-minute countdown
that even I can't stop.

 

And once the laser fires,

 

the whole cave will be filled
with molten lava.

 

Where's Colonel Komananov?

 

She's a spirited individual...

 

young... healthy.

 

We'll need women like her to help
propagate the second human race.

 

Try to stay cool, Mr. Bashir.

 

So what do we do now?

 

I'm thinking.

 

Think faster.

 

I don't know if I've made this
explicit to you or not, Doctor

 

but I really don't want to die
chained to a 20th-century laser.

 

I think it's time to end
this program.

 

We can't do that.

 

We'd wipe out the patterns
of Sisko and the others.

 

Then may I suggest calling
Commander Eddington

 

and having him send someone in here
to remove these handcuffs?

 

You heard what Odo said...

 

we don't know what'll happen
if we interrupt the holo-imaging array

 

by calling for the doors.

 

The entire program might
collapse and kill them all.

 

Well, I only know
one thing for sure, Doctor

 

that when the molten lava
begins pouring into this cave

 

you and I are going to be
very uncomfortable.

 

Who's that?

 

It's our ticket out of here.

 

What a waste...

 

that no one can see
what a beautiful woman you are.

 

Is that your plan?

 

Shut up.

 

Noah only wants you
for your mind.

 

He can't appreciate
the woman inside you.

 

Honey,

 

would you grant me
one last request...

 

and take off those glasses?

 

Oh...

 

Like this?

 

Yes.

 

You know

 

your hair would look
so much better if it were free.

 

I must say, Doctor

 

this is more than I ever wanted
to know about your fantasy life.

 

There...

 

that's the last thing
I want to remember before I die.

 

Thank you.

 

I'd give you both
some privacy if I could.

 

Great plan.
Now can we call Eddington?

 

That will not be necessary.

 

Honey has given me
all we need.

 

Hmm... kiss the girl,
get the key.

 

They never taught me that
in the Obsidian Order.

 

Come on!

 

We have to get
to the control room.

 

What?

 

If this program ends
like the others

 

either Komananov or Honey Bare
will be killed by Dr. Noah.

 

The other's supposed
to end up with me.

 

In either case

 

we have to make sure
that both of them survive.

 

You expect to take on Noah
and his men with that?

 

It's my fantasy.
Trust me.

 

No!

 

This has gone far enough.
It's time to cut our losses.

 

Oh, we can't do that.

 

Kira or Dax might...

 

Yes, they might be killed,
and that is unfortunate

 

but there comes a time
when the odds are against you

 

and the only reasonable
course of action is to quit.

 

Quit?

 

Yes!

 

Is that what they taught you
at the Obsidian Order?

 

To give up
when things get tough?

 

As a matter of fact, they did.

 

That's why I've managed
to stay alive

 

while most of my colleagues
are dead

 

because I know when to walk away
and that time is now. Now!

 

And you'd know that, Doctor,
if you were a real intelligence agent.

 

Oh, so that's
what this is all about.

 

The fact that my fantasy
happens to step

 

on what you consider to be
your private domain.

 

Well, what's the matter, Garak?

 

Have I bruised your ego by playacting at
something you take so very seriously?

 

That's something else
you've yet to learn, Doctor.

 

A real intelligence agent
has no ego, no conscience,

 

no remorse... only a sense
of professionalism

 

and mine is telling me
that it's time to go.

 

Computer!

 

Don't!

 

Or what?

 

You'll kill me?

 

If you call for the exit

 

you might kill Sisko
and the others

 

and I am not prepared
to risk that.

 

I'm afraid I don't believe
you'll pull that trigger.

 

I wouldn't be so sure
about that.

 

It's time
to face reality, Doctor.

 

You're a man
who dreams of being a hero

 

because you know, deep down,
that you're not.

 

I'm no hero either

 

but I do know
how to make a choice

 

and I'm choosing to save myself.

 

Computer
show me the mechanism...

 

Oh!

 

You'll be fine.
It's just a flesh wound.

 

That was awfully close.

 

What if you'd killed me?

 

What makes you think
I wasn't trying?

 

Doctor, I do believe
there's hope for you yet.

 

I'm so relieved.

 

Now we have to get
to the control room.

 

Are you coming or not?

 

Well, who am I to question
Julian Bashir, secret agent?

 

Lead on.

 

Everybody stay where you are.

 

Julian.

 

Your weapon, Dr. Noah.

 

This is your doing.

 

You let them go.

 

I'm sorry, Doctor.

 

Julian, you are just in time.

 

He was about to activate
the final sequence of the lasers.

 

Kill him, Julian.

 

Not this time, Ana.

 

Well, then I will.

 

No!

 

Oh, what are you doing?

 

Making a mistake.

 

Thank you, Mr. Duchamps.

 

Eddington to Bashir.

 

We're going to try rematerializing
their patterns in about two minutes.

 

Understood.

 

And what is it you understand,
Mr. Bashir?

 

That you should have killed me
when you had the chance?

 

I agree.

 

But, then again, I suppose
it wouldn't be very... heroic.

 

I, on the other hand

 

have no pretensions
about the idea of being a hero.

 

Wait!

 

Maybe I'm tired of being a hero.

 

Maybe I've thought over
what you've said and decided

 

that you're absolutely right.

 

About what?

 

Everything... the decadence
of the world, the need for order.

 

The more I think about it,
the more I realize

 

that your way
may be the only way.

 

Ha!

 

You expect me to believe that?

 

You are Julian Bashir

 

a man who has spent his entire life
dedicated to fighting against...

 

Yes!

 

But that's all about to end now,
isn't it?

 

You're going to destroy
this world and start a new one.

 

What's the use of me continuing
to defend a doomed planet?

 

Can you see the sense in that?

 

No.

 

No.

 

I'm an intelligence agent

 

and if there's
any one thing I've learned

 

it is that there comes a point
when the odds are against you

 

and there is no reasonable
course of action but to quit.

 

How do you think I've managed
to stay alive so long

 

when all of my compatriots
are dead?

 

It is because I have known
when to walk away.

 

Rom to Ops.
I'm ready.

 

You can start transferring the
neural energy to the Defiant.

 

Acknowledged.

 

Beginning data transfer.

 

You make a very interesting
argument, Mr. Bashir.

 

But I'm afraid I've been looking forward to
killing you for a long time.

 

You need to move beyond that.

 

You need to start thinking
about your new world order.

 

You may even need
someone like me.

 

If you think
that by going over there

 

you are going to destroy
my control console

 

you are wasting your time.

 

I don't intend
to destroy your console, Doctor.

 

I intend to use it.

 

You've just activated
the final laser sequence.

 

You've destroyed the world.

 

Data transfer complete.

 

I am reestablishing computer control
over the station.

 

It's working
just as you planned.

 

You've done it, Doctor.

 

Yes.

 

But somehow,

 

I didn't expect to win.

 

I suppose the only thing left to do now

 

is to kill you.

 

What happened, Commander?

 

What did you do to my ship?

 

It's going to take
some explaining.

 

Eddington to Bashir.

 

We've got them, Doctor.

 

You can leave the holosuite now.

 

Thank you.

 

Interesting.

 

You saved the day
by destroying the world.

 

I bet they didn't teach you that
at the Obsidian Order.

 

No, no, there was a great deal
they didn't teach me.

 

Like the value
of a good game of chance

 

or how indulging in fantasy
keeps the mind creative.

 

Lunch tomorrow?

 

Of course.

 

But why don't we
have it at your place...

 

in Hong Kong.

 

Unless, of course,
this was your last mission.

 

Oh, I think it's safe to say that
Julian Bashir, secret agent, will return.

 

Hmm...