#into going to war with the Dominion

[firelord-frowny]

my sexuality is Garak's deranged and tortured monologue in the episode "The Wire" in Deep Space 9 where he tells the story of being exiled from Cardassia for releasing Bajoran hostages <3 <3 <3

[pon-farr-night]

ME WHEN I WANT TO POST ABOUT MY STAR TREK OCS BUT I'M SCARED, SPOOKED EVEN, THAT IT WILL BE CRINGE AND THE MASSES WILL HATE THEM!!!

[hinotorihime]

(my actual top favorite messy relationship dynamic of all time is of course "whatever the fuck is going on between my rpg character and her best friend")

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[youngpettyqueen]

I have officially gotten to the point where ive made an entire private discord server just so I can write out and organize an entire starship full of OCs and all their plotlines and arcs and dynamics because im just going to write my own Star Trek show apparently

[ffcrazy15]

Writing Lower Decks fanfic while simultaneously watching through DS9 for the first time is just knowing that Bad Stuff is coming for my station blorbos, without knowing exactly what the Bad Stuff is.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Sol getting the "Join the Stormcloaks" quest might be the most ironic thing Skyrim has pulled on me so far.

[liuisi]

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said: “Who is this who darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me.

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? To what were its foundations fastened? Or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? Or who shut in the sea with doors, when it burst forth and issued from the womb; when I made the clouds its garment, and thick darkness its swaddling band; when I fixed My limit for it, and set bars and doors; when I said, ‘This far you may come, but no farther, And here your proud waves must stop!’

Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place, that it might take hold of the ends of the earth, and the wicked be shaken out of it? It takes on form like clay under a seal, and stands out like a garment. From the wicked their light is withheld, and the upraised arm is broken.

Have you entered the springs of the sea? Or have you walked in search of the depths? Have the gates of death been revealed to you? Or have you seen the doors of the shadow of death? Have you comprehended the breadth of the earth? Tell Me, if you know all this. Where is the way to the dwelling of light? And darkness, where is its place, that you may take it to its territory, that you may know the paths to its home? Do you know it, because you were born then, or because the number of your days is great? Have you entered the treasury of snow, or have you seen the treasury of hail, which I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war? By what way is light diffused, or the east wind scattered over the earth?

Who has divided a channel for the overflowing water, or a path for the thunderbolt, to cause it to rain on a land where there is no one, a wilderness in which there is no man; to satisfy the desolate waste, and cause to spring forth the growth of tender grass? Has the rain a father? Or who has begotten the drops of dew? From whose womb comes the ice? And the frost of heaven, who gives it birth? The waters harden like stone, and the surface of the deep is frozen. Can you bind the cluster of the Pleiades, Or loose the belt of Orion? Can you bring out Mazzaroth in its season? Or can you guide the Great Bear with its cubs? Do you know the ordinances of the heavens? Can you set their dominion over the earth?

Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, that an abundance of water may cover you? Can you send out lightnings, that they may go, and say to you, ‘Here we are! ’? Who has put wisdom in the mind? Or who has given understanding to the heart? Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven, when the dust hardens in clumps, and the clods cling together? Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, When they crouch in their dens, or lurk in their lairs to lie in wait? Who provides food for the raven, when its young ones cry to God, and wander about for lack of food?'

Job 38:1-41

[getvalentined]

Thinking a lot recently about the constant comparison of Oblivion to Skyrim, particularly claims that Oblivion is superior in every way strictly by virtue of quest length and the greater grandiosity of the organizations in Oblivion, and I think there's been a fundamental misunderstanding of what's actually going on with Tamriel during the time period of Skyrim. Even though it's like...one of the core concepts of the main storyline.

Putting most of this under a cut for length, but I just...I think people misunderstand what's going on here. This is not a "One Game Good Other Game Bad" post, it's an analysis of a major, key difference in story basis between the two that I think gets lost in the (frankly asinine) argument about which is superior.

See, everything in Skyrim sucks. Every organization you can align yourself with is falling apart. Literally every single one.

That's the point.

To summarize:

The Companions (equivalent to the Fighters' Guild) are about a dozen strong, literally cursed, and their most beloved leader gets murdered very early in the storyline.

The College of Winterhold (equivalent to the Mages' Guild, not to the Arcane University) has seemingly only been saved from collapsing into the sea because a master of Restoration fused himself with the structure itself when the Sea of Ghosts tried to tear it down a little under a century ago and his presence is constantly physically "healing" the foundation.

The Thieves' Guild has lost the favor of every possible patron deity, having been outright cursed by Nocturnal after one of her Nightingales murdered another and stole the gift she offers her champion, while the boon that the organization's founder claimed from her in ages past (the cowl) is missing.

The Dark Brotherhood has been all but completely dismantled, the Night Mother's tomb in Bravil having been raided and struggling to persist without a Listener for over a decade; the bodies of the Night Mother's children have been lost and she's essentially being smuggled from region to region in an attempt to find a safe place to continue operations.

The Empire itself has been kneecapped, forced into a traumatic treaty by a fascist regime determined to strike the beliefs and culture of anyone not Altmer off the face of the planet; the Thalmor have gone so far as to torture and radicalize the figurehead leader of the Nords in order to use their own nationalism and superiority against the Empire, sparking a civil war that will further weaken the Empire and allow the Aldmerri Dominion to destroy it wholecloth.

This extends out into the rest of the world, too! We have confirmed existence of Hist-deaf Argonians. The Dunmer are floundering to recover after the quadruple-whammy that is the fall of the Triumverate, the destruction of Vivec City when Baar Dau finally made impact, the Red Year, and the Argonian uprising. The Bosmer are literally endangered due to habitat loss following a super-isolationist cultural shift due to wars with the Khajiit and Altmer. The Void Nights were devastating to Khajiit culture and population in ways that have yet to be fully explained.

The world is falling apart. Everything is dying.

And then Alduin shows up.

We all kind of talk about Alduin carrying on as World-Eater through the course of the Skyrim storyline like it's him being a piece of shit, since he'd started it ages ago and was just displaced in time to land on the Last Dragonborn's head in the Fourth Era, but I don't think that's the case.

Based on the state of things, I think Alduin arrived right on time. I think it's the end of the world. The only reason he "should" be stopped is because the Last Dragonborn has the capacity to stop the world from ending in a more down-to-earth sense than just defeating Alduin: they can't save everyone, but they can "fix" every single organization that's holding "the world" together.

They can align with the Imperials and keep the civil war from further crippling them, keeping the Empire from being too weak to push back against the Aldmerri Dominion.

They can save the College of Winterhold, the only group in the right place at the right time to stop the Eye of Magnus from opening, and in doing so make sure that the Psijics are able to put it somewhere nobody else can find it.

They can lead the Companions, cure the curse for those members who don't want to run with Hircine after death, which bolsters their spirits enough to keep doing what they can even when everyone else is trying to kill each other. A single neutral martial force in the middle of a civil war.

They can regain Nocturnal's trust for the Thieves' Guild, restore the Nightingales, and in doing so they can return the luck that was stolen from them as punishment for Mercer Frey's transgression. They can even reclaim the Crown of Barenziah and award the guild with a paragon to increase their newly-regained luck.

They can hear the Night Mother, becoming Listener for the Dark Brotherhood to restore the balancing force of Sithis in the world, purify the most broken Sanctuary the Brotherhood has ever had, and finish a story set into motion way back in the Third Era—Emperor Titus Mede II is murdered under the order of a Motierre, a descendant of a mark the Brotherhood specifically kept from dying during the Oblivion Crisis.

The Last Dragonborn can't do anything outside Skyrim—there's nothing they can do for the Argonians or the Bosmer or the Khajiit, and they can only do very little for the Dunmer via work in Solstheim—but they can work with every single guild or guild-adjacent group, strengthening the Empire to stand against the biggest threat to Tamrielic culture since the First Era, and in doing so they can make it so the world isn't ready for Alduin to eat it.

The Hero of Kvatch exists when Tamriel, and presumably Nirn as a whole is in the prime of its life, that's what makes the Oblivion Crisis such a big deal. This is a world that isn't ready to give up, it still has the strength to fight, it just needs someone standing at the head to direct it. The Last Dragonborn comes into the story when everything is falling apart and nothing really feels worthwhile, when it's hard to see why the world is worth saving. They have the chance to prove that there's still some life left here, that the world isn't too far gone to save—Alduin arrived right on time, it's the Last Dragonborn's job to change that.

I can see how coming from Oblivion to Skyrim would feel disappointing and hollow, but I'm pretty sure that's literally the point of the story.

Oblivion tells you the world is worth saving because it's got so much left to live for, even with the odds stacked so high against it. Skyrim asks you whether a world that's dying is still a world worth saving, and it's up to you to prove that it is.

[thesearchforbluejello]

I am honestly just rendered very much speechless by this week's SNW. Like... I am not sure I have come this close to the exact vibe of M*A*S*H as having this fucking unbelievable gutpunch of an episode between the LD crossover and a musical episode???????????? I don't even know how to unpack this episode honestly. I didn't see it coming at all even given the title. I don't know how to place it between silliness and fun when I know people who are living the reality of what this episode explores, but I think it is something that current audiences sorely need to see.

[radiance1]

"Okay, so." Danny began slowly, very, very slowly. Testing the rope that bound his arms behind his back. "This is new... Ish."

"Sorry, sorry." The kid Danny had, unfortunately (but also fortunately), saved from multiple kidnappings from cultists. Said, hands raised in his direction but also not going any further and instead fidgeting in place. "Are they too tight? Do you want me to loosen them?"

"No, no. They're fine." Danny shrugged, silently hoping the Infinite Realms isn't going to smite the unfortunate boy across from him for, you know, kidnapping Danny and all that. "I would say this is one of the more comfortable kidnappings, to be honest."

"Oh, okay. That's good." The kid nodded slowly, though a bit hesitant before deciding not to follow that line of conversation. "Alright, so, my name's Billy." Billy introduced him, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he gave an awkward smile. "Y'know, the guy you saved from multiple kidnappings and, uh, kidnapped you too."

"Cool, cool." Danny hummed lightly, leaning back against the wall. "Name's Danny, nice to meet you Billy."

"I thought your name was Phantom?" Billy asked, understandably confused.

"It is." Danny confirmed.

"But your name is also, Danny?" Billy tilted his head a bit.

"Yes." Danny said, unhelpfully.

"Is Danny your secret identity?" Billy asked.

"Nope."

"Is Phantom your secret identity?"

"Yes but no."

A beat.

"That makes no sense." Billy said flatly.

"What can I say," Danny shrugged. "Not a lot of things in my life make sense."

"Right, yea." Billy nodded politely, drumming his fingers against his leg. "Interdimensional prince and stuff."

"Yea."

A moment of silence.

"So-" Billy began.

"No, the Ghost King isn't going to hunt you down. No, every other ghost in existence isn't going to hunt you down either and, no. This isn't going to start a war."

Billy blinked.

"Not what I was going to ask, but okay. That's nice to know." He nodded, a certain amount of relief unknotting unknown pressure in his chest he only knew till now.

"Oh." Danny blinked, then tilted his head. "Soooo, what did you want to ask then?"

"Do you want to be my boyfriend-"

"Yes."

===

"Let's fucking GOOOOOO!" Zeus roared, throwing his fists into the air. "Haha! Take that Solomon! I told you it would work!"

Solomon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation, reaching into his robe and pulling out 5 gold coins.

"Thank-a you!" Mercury swiped the money right out of his hands then hid them... Somewhere, on his body. Then gave Solomon a wink. "Pleasure doing business with ya!"

===

"Oh, it finally happened." Clockwork remarked calmly, barely pausing as he continued to run the comb through hair.

"The Realms seem out of sorts." Pariah Dark said slowly, twisting his head to try to look back at Clockwork only to turn it right back from the gentle whack of Clockwork's staff. "Should I be concerned?"

"No," Clockwork said casually, running the comb through his king's hair. Honestly, it amazed him that Eons of Eternal Slumber, yet his hair wasn't a rat's nest. "Let it sort itself out, it shall be done in the next century, or the next two millennium, either or."

"You're unsure?" Pariah tilted his head forwards the slightest amount, doing so very carefully as to not disturb the Master of Time's work.

"A rough estimate, though I can give a more accurate statement," Clockwork hummed lightly as he combed through the few knots left. "It is unimportant."

"Ah," Pariah Dark, both trusting and not knowing enough about said subject seeing as he does not have dominion over time, nodded slightly. "I see."

===

The Infinite Realms was very, very happy to see one of its blorbos gain a lover.

It knew interrupting various kidnappings and marking the boy as a good Realms token so they could meet would work out eventually!

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #44

Three Teens, Three Crowns, and a Whole Lot of Nope

Imagine dis…

I was just shuffling around my playlist when I heard that song from the animated movie El Dorado and it made me thinking, so here it goes…

…

DANNY’S POV

The moment my best friends bit the ghostly dust, the universe decided to hand us a set of crowns we didn’t ask for. Because obviously, nothing says “Congratulations on your tragic deaths!” like a full-time job in the afterlife.

Tucker, in a plot twist no one saw coming (except maybe Clockwork, because that guy cheats), turned out to be the reincarnation of some ancient Pharaoh. Not just any Pharaoh—oh no—he got the VIP pass straight to the top of the Egyptian pantheon, answering only to me, the so-called King of the Infinite Realms. Because if there's one thing I’ve learned, it's that my best friend is destined to be the world's first tech-savvy, WiFi-dependent god-king of the afterlife.

Sam, on the other hand, had always been a little too into nature, and I guess the universe finally decided to roll with it. When she synced up perfectly with Undergrowth’s power, the big walking salad declared her his heir, making her the literal Queen of Nature. So now, Sam basically has dominion over every plant in existence, which means I can never make an offhand comment about preferring artificial Christmas trees without getting a death glare.

And me? Well, since I yeeted Pariah Dark back into the sarcophagus where he belonged, the Infinite Realms figured I should be the one running the place. So, lucky me—I got promoted to Ghost King, a position that comes with all the responsibility and none of the training manual.

Now, you’d think that’s enough responsibility for a trio of teenagers who just wanted to survive high school. But no, Clockwork took one look at us, decided we sucked at ruling, and thought, Hey, let’s make this fun! So instead of, I don’t know, giving us an actual lesson in leadership, he chucked us into a completely different dimension (because, sure, why not?) and told us to start cults.

Yep. You heard that right. Cults.

No warning, no instructions, just a “figure it out” and a push into the deep end. One minute we’re in the Ghost Zone, the next we’re scattered across this weird universe like a really weird cosmic prank.

So now I’m stuck in Gotham, which, by the way, might be more haunted than the Ghost Zone itself. I have no idea where Sam and Tucker ended up, but if I know them, Tucker’s probably convinced a bunch of tech bros to worship him as some cyber-god, and Sam’s singlehandedly turning a park into her new throne. Meanwhile, I have to somehow convince people to follow me without sounding like a lunatic.

This is going to be fun. (Spoiler: It won’t be.)

…

SAM’S POV

Gotham reeked of smoke, oil, and decay. Beneath its gothic beauty was a suffocating lifelessness, an unnatural cage of steel and concrete. The city was a graveyard where nature had been paved over and left to rot in the shadows of towering skyscrapers. It was unacceptable. It was offensive. And Sam was going to change it.

She wasted no time. The moment her feet hit Gotham’s cracked pavement, she started planting seeds—both literally and metaphorically. It began with whispers. A small movement. A group that promised something different. Gotham had no shortage of lost souls—criminals, outcasts, the downtrodden looking for something beyond the city's endless cycle of crime and punishment. But Sam wasn’t offering power or chaos like every other Gotham lunatic. No, she offered something much rarer: sustainability.

Food. Shelter. Community.

It started with fresh produce, rare and valuable in Gotham’s urban wasteland. No one questioned where it came from, only that it was fresh, free of toxins, and worth more than a stack of stolen cash. The deal was simple—manual labor in exchange for nourishment. Gotham’s criminals, many of whom spent their lives getting stabbed, shot, or beaten in some turf war, found the idea shockingly reasonable. Hospitals ate through their earnings. Gang life was profitable until you bled out in an alley. But a place that provided food, healing, and protection? That was something different. That was better.

The movement grew. What began as a handful of desperate people looking for a way out became something bigger. The streets whispered of a new force rising, one that didn’t deal in violence or corruption but in roots—roots that burrowed deep, that refused to be ignored.

At first, the Batfamily dismissed it as background noise. In a city filled with psychopaths dressed as clowns, what was a little nature cult? But when Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn vanished—not in a grand escape, not in a fiery explosion, but simply faded into the movement—their indifference turned to concern.

When Ivy resurfaced, she wasn’t the same. The wild unpredictability had been tempered into something focused. Controlled. She still worshipped nature, but now she had a leader, someone she called High Priestess. And that leader wasn’t some ancient force of the Green. It wasn’t a metahuman, a scientist, or a villain. It was a teenager.

A black-haired, violet-eyed girl who stood in front of kneeling followers, leading ceremonies beneath the growing canopy of Gotham’s first true forest in centuries.

Sam had never been one for blind worship. She despised mindless devotion. But this wasn’t about faith—it was about purpose. The people who followed her weren’t zealots; they were survivors. They had seen what Gotham’s endless cycle of crime and violence had to offer, and they wanted out. She gave them that. She gave them a cause. And if it meant being called a cult leader, then fine. Whatever. Labels didn’t matter. Results did.

And Gotham was changing.

The city fought back, of course. The corruption, the crime families, even the Bat himself—none of them liked an unpredictable element in their precious, miserable ecosystem. But Sam had never been one to back down. Gotham was sick, diseased, rotting. She wasn’t here to burn it down like some power-hungry villain. She was here to fix it.

And if the Bats wanted to stop her, well—

Let them try.

…

TUCKER’S POV

Metropolis was beautiful. It was clean, it was bright, and it was bursting with technology. Skyscrapers gleamed under the sun, state-of-the-art AI patrolled the streets, and futuristic inventions were integrated into everyday life like it was no big deal. This was a city that worshiped innovation, where science and technology weren’t just tools but pillars of society.

Tucker should have been in heaven.

But he had a mission to complete before he could sit back and enjoy the wonders of Metropolis. Clockwork’s orders. And if the old ghost had taught him anything, it was that ignoring his cryptic guidance usually led to bad things. So, no indulging in the city’s top-tier tech just yet. He had a kingdom to build.

At first, Superman didn’t even notice him. That was fine. Tucker wasn’t looking to pick a fight with the world’s strongest hero. He moved in the background, setting up encrypted networks, hijacking digital footprints, and planting just enough static in the city’s airwaves to keep any unwanted super-snooping off his back. The occasional glitch in Superman’s super-hearing? That was Tucker, laying the groundwork.

But the real disruption came when people started vanishing.

Not just any people—tech specialists, programmers, engineers. The kind of minds corporations fought over, the ones Luthor’s company owned through shady contracts and blackmail. One by one, they disappeared from Metropolis, slipping through the cracks like digital ghosts.

The city was no stranger to missing persons. Metropolis saw its fair share of people vanishing into the underbelly of crime, alien invasions, or one of Lex Luthor’s ever-growing list of sinister schemes. But this? This was too precise, too targeted. Luthor’s R&D departments were bleeding talent at an alarming rate, and the usual suspects weren’t responsible.

The only common thread? The Code of Ra.

It started as an urban myth—a secretive group offering sanctuary to tech minds who had seen too many of their peers exploited, coerced, or “recruited” by the so-called forces of good and evil. They were promised a place where their work was valued, where they were free to create without fear of it being stolen, weaponized, or locked behind corporate greed.

And at the center of it all? Him.

Tucker hadn’t just built a cult—he’d built a kingdom. One where technology wasn’t a tool for war, where engineers and programmers weren’t disposable assets, where knowledge was sacred. He offered an intellectual utopia, a society where the greatest minds could work without limits. And the best part? They wanted to be there. There was no brainwashing, no coercion. The world had burned them too many times, and Tucker had simply given them an alternative.

And, okay, maybe he leaned into the whole Pharaoh thing a little. He was a reincarnated ruler, after all—might as well own it. Gold-trimmed robes, sleek futuristic stylings with ancient Egyptian aesthetics, and a throne room that looked like a cyberpunk temple. He’d always thought he’d look good in royal attire, and damn, was he right.

But his people didn’t follow him because of the theatrics. They followed because he gave them something no one else had—freedom.

Superman, unaccustomed to dealing with cults, found himself in unfamiliar territory. He had fought tyrants, warlords, and intergalactic conquerors, but a movement built on voluntary devotion? That wasn’t as simple as punching a bad guy. Normally, this was the kind of mess Batman or Wonder Woman would handle. But Diana was off-world, and Gotham had its own cult problem. That left the burden squarely on Superman’s shoulders.

And Tucker? Tucker was more than ready to enjoy the show.

…

DANNY’S POV

The desert sucked.

Like, really sucked.

If he ever made it out of this, he was going to personally petition the Ghost Zone to just delete the concept of sand from existence. Sand was evil. It got everywhere, it was hot, and it made him feel like a melting popsicle under a blowtorch.

His ice core hated him. His human half hated him. The sun was having the time of its life roasting him alive. And then—nothing.

When he woke up, things got weirder.

For one, he wasn’t dead. Which, honestly, was a pleasant surprise considering the whole “heatstroke and possible dehydration” situation. For another, he wasn’t lying in the sand anymore. Nope. Instead, he was inside a coffin.

Not the first time he’d woken up in one, but still, rude.

He sat up, blinking blearily, and was immediately met with dozens of kneeling figures in dark robes. No one screamed. No one attacked. They just...stared.

Which, honestly? Way creepier than ghost attacks.

The air smelled like flowers, incense, and something ancient, like he’d been dropped in the middle of an old temple. Around him were offerings—literal offerings—of gold, silver, and silk. And the people? They were whispering. Murmuring things he barely understood, eyes shining with what he could only describe as religious awe.

Which was never a good sign.

Danny had questions. A lot of questions. But the big one?

What the actual heck was going on?

It took some time—aka him sneaking around, eavesdropping, and pretending he had any idea what he was doing—but eventually, he figured it out.

These people? Every single one of them had died before. Not in the casual, “oops, tripped and fell” way, but in the full-on, flatline, bright light at the end of the tunnel way. And somehow, they’d come back. Some were resurrected, others survived things they shouldn’t have, but they all had one thing in common: they felt drawn to him.

Apparently, he was some kind of cosmic beacon for people who’d taken a one-way trip to the afterlife but forgot to stay there. To them, he wasn’t just some random ghost kid—he was the King. The embodiment of balance, life and death, chaos and order. The guy who got to decide whether people stayed dead.

And that was so not on his resume.

But did that stop people from kneeling at his feet, swearing loyalty, and building a cult around him? Nope.

Did he ask for it? Also nope.

And somehow, it just kept getting bigger. At first, it was just the devoted ghost-adjacent weirdos. Then mercenaries. Then, a group of assassins and a guy named Ra. Even Slade freaking Wilson showed up one day, standing ominously at the back like the world’s most intense chaperone.

Danny didn’t do cults. He wasn’t qualified for cults. He was barely qualified for high school.

But Clockwork had said he needed to establish one, and, well...mission accomplished?

Now, all he had to do was find Sam and Tucker, reunite with his spouses, and figure out how to explain to them that, uh...he might have accidentally become a god-king of the undead.

Yeah. They were never gonna let him live this down.

…

 PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: I tried a new type of writing. How is it?

[quarkfancam]

some trek oc posting!! mostly dr. t'sik... also featuring ensign morris (human) & lt. nul (ferengi). Some elaboration on her under the cut....

Ok so the first thing you need to know about T'Sik is her head gets wider every time i draw her

The second thing you need to know about her is she is having the least severe vulcan identity crisis. My main idea for her character was someone who, while being perfectly able to fit into their society's ideals of what they should be, just cannot feel comfortable in it. She's always felt more at ease interacting with aliens or Vulcans who didn't go through with the Kolinahr, in spite of her being successful in that aspect. She's great at medicinal science. She's also pretty good at being a wife (so her parents say)! But once she's expected to 'finish' her duty as a woman in Vulcan society and become a mother, she kind of just runs off and joins Starfleet.

In that sense, she connects with a freshly-graduated (she assumes) human (she assumes) ensign, who was also a rebel in the sense he was more Curzon than Ezri Dax, a chaotic rogue with ambiguous feelings towards the society he was raised in. They serve together on their first ship for a while before T'Sik is promoted and transferred from ship to ship. She feels appreciated for a while, but she eventually has to admit that the feeling fades.

The people she's always gotten along with more simply aren't the people she really wants praise from. She longs for the people she grew up alongside, the people she was raised by.

It doesn't matter, so she ignores the feeling. She keeps being distracted at work. She gets sloppier. The people grow more distant in her mind. Years pass. Decades pass. She's not exceptional anymore, she's just decent.

She gets transferred to the ship where everyone who's just decent goes: the USS Hawking, patrolling the middle of nowhere.

The people are strange, but familiar. Too familiar — a friendly face greets her, and suddenly she's freshly 40 again. Ensign Morris treats her just the same as back then. It's strange. She doesn't quite know what to do with herself. More time passes.

Her new captain, a cardassian man named Karal, brings new people aboard, one of which is a young ferengi woman named Nul. Unfortunately for T'Sik, she's seen the story of a young woman running away from home into the arms of Starfleet before.

...Which starts us off with the (imaginary) S1, where T'Sik has to navigate a new Captain and a new apprentice who reminds her a bit too much of herself (she will be a bit cold to her at first). And maybe also properly re-befriend her former weird mysterious rebel colleague who never got promoted too.

last doodle was just me having fun but imagine an episode where they're the only ones awake on the ship while everyone's asleep or something and they're forced to develop..... etc

as for morris & t'sik they're kinda weird sarcastic sorta-friends they hook up at one point and it sucks really bad. t'sik's ex husband felt a disturbance in the force (wrong franchise) the day it happened and stuff. Idk i haven't thought about him at All. that's like a s4 episode to me

& also i Forgot to adjust uniforms for time period in the first doodle but my in canon explanation for the voyager era ones (this whole thing would be a bit after the dominion war) is that the ship just never got replicator patterns for the new uniforms. Yup

anyways if you read this whole thing ur a real one & Thank you........ turns into a cloud and floats away......

[calder]

Themes of Gay Identity and Homophobia in Fallout: New Vegas

Revised and extended 4-30-25. Much of this essay is no longer available on the wiki. Please read attached PSA at conclusion.

Released in 2010, Obsidian Entertainment's Fallout: New Vegas actively concerns itself with the realities of gay existence, and is widely recognized as a noteworthy work of queer science fiction. New Vegas extensively examines social attitudes towards homosexuality among the game's major factions, and primarily conveys this lore through gay and bisexual characters describing their own experiences. It also allowed the player to mechanically set the Courier's sexual orientation. By taking both available perks, the player character can be bisexual. By choosing neither, the player can opt out of seeing flirtatious dialogue options.

Uniquely, Fallout: New Vegas explores homosexuality in the context of wasteland societies, and touches upon related issues. The core theme of New Vegas is that the desire to recreate the past is driven by irrational nostalgia, and any endeavor to manifest past glory is dangerous and doomed. The social issue of homophobia is used as a demonstrative example. The resurrection of corporate and military power structures presents new avenues for Old World problems such as institutional homophobia to reemerge. One of the many issues that divide the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion is the latter's open persecution of gay people. The NCR is described as tolerant and even accepting of same-sex relationships, though acceptance tends to fall off the further one moves away from the developed, urbanized core of New California.

In recent years, the Republic's rapid economic transformation has led to an unforeseen erosion of the humanitarian ideals which it was founded to serve. In practice, to recreate America was to take on its shortcomings and its sins. As subsistence scavenging has dried up, the people of the NCR increasingly turn to wage labor, entrepreneurial venture, or military enlistment to keep their families fed. Meanwhile, their government enacts morally corrosive imperialism (narrative verbiage from the PRIMA guide), their dominion expanding indefinitely as their infrastructure crumbles from within. This has led to a profit-based imperial monoculture which must conquer, consume, and coerce to perpetuate. As personal politics and service labor grow in importance, people find themselves more inclined to present as "normal" in the interest of financial stability and political expedience. A loading screen visualizes this culture of artificial social normalcy: the portrait of President Aradesh on the NCR 5$ bill neglects to depict his unibrow, earring, and facial scarification, overall portraying the once-chieftain so cleanly-cut as to be unrecognizable at first glance. He also appears to be wearing a collared shirt or suit as opposed to the robe he wore in Fallout.

In the Legion, Caesar has mandated that every legionnaire take a wife and produce children, citing high infant mortality rates and the constant need for soldiers, and going as far as instituting child quotas. He treats human beings as a resource to be exploited for war. Ostensibly in this aim homosexuality has been declared a capital offense punishable by death. Historically, routine demonstrations of violence towards women and gay people are a deliberate feature of fascist societies, the only logical cultural conclusion of a government devoted entirely to war and control.

In Forlorn Hope letter 9, an NCR soldier wrote wrote the following to his boyfriend:

Dearest Andrew, Writing this seems pretty morbid, but tomorrow we march into the no man's land between our camp and Nelson, which is crawling with Legion. The Major insisted I write this damn "if you get this, I'm dead" letter so here it is. What a crock. I have the luck of the devil and your love on my side, so I'll be home soon. Keep the porch light on for me. We'll party in New Vegas when I get back. I love you. —Devin

Devin believed he would prevail over the Legion because his love would keep him safe. He was found dying or dead on the battlefield, the letter was found on his body. In a post-release patch, the injured soldiers were removed from the battlefield for performance reasons, and never re-implemented.

Driven largely in reaction to the Legion's hyper-masculine posturing and misogyny, rumors persist across the Mojave that gay male relationships are not only common within the Legion, but condoned. These rumors are repeated commonly in NCR society. A closeted NCR Major mentions that the Legion is "a little more... forgiving" about close male "friendships," speaking in a hushed tone to avoid suspicion. At the same outpost, the player can encounter Cass, a bisexual civilian woman. She may flirt with a male Courier, who may imply they are gay, prompting her to imply gay men are more common in the Legion. Even as gay men fight and die in the name of love under his command, NCR General Oliver may remark to Courier Six at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam: "If you think after all that's happened, I'm going to grab my ankles and take it like the Legion..."

This writing pertains to institutionalized homophobia which manifests in practice though power structures and social interactions without being written into law. Simply put, in his derogatory remark, the general expresses to his army that military surrender is gay, much like their gay enemy. From the brevity and bluntness of this remark, it's clear that this sentiment is already well understood among his ranks. Logically, to project strength in the eyes of such a leader, one might also project homophobia by scrutinizing and harassing one's peers and subordinates. In this atmosphere, the expression of homophobia is not only normalized, but materially incentivized. For the ambitious, it becomes a tool, and a way of casting shame upon rivals. For the closeted, homophobia becomes a survival tactic, hoping to throw scrutiny off oneself. This is why Major Knight is immediately frightened when a male Courier flirts with him. He is so profoundly alienated that he romanticizes life as a gay man under the Legion. The Legion punish homosexuality with death, and yet Knight characterizes them as more "forgiving" than the NCR. Through these apparently disparate events, the audience can trace how a distorted perception of gay people emerges among insecure men in a military environment, and subsequently becomes ingrained in the corresponding civilian culture.

At the 188 Trading Post, a lesbian from the Brotherhood of Steel named Veronica also wryly remarks that she believes legionaries have gay sex about as often as straight sex. She also notes that this only applies to men, as women have no rights whatsoever in Legion society. In this aside, she conveys a pre-existing frustration with lesbophobic social norms. Veronica also mentions that the people of her bunker would rather she remain on the surface.

The Mojave Brotherhood of Steel has no official policy prohibiting homosexuality, but an implicit attitude among its dominant members that their limited numbers require everyone to have children to avoid extinction. Numerically, this may seem logical on the surface, given their reluctance to recruit outsiders. However, given their tiny population, this is an ineffective countermeasure, as they do not have nearly enough members to maintain genetic diversity for more than a few generations. 

This approach is not universally supported by all family units within the Brotherhood, but every individual is ultimately at the mercy of the elder. Veronica was in a lesbian relationship, but they were quietly separated by Elder Elijah, due to the dominant culture of enforcing heterosexual pairing among their population. No Brotherhood character makes any remark conveying hatred or disgust towards homosexuality; malice is not a necessary ingredient of homophobia. Fear, ignorance, tradition, and control are forces that shape their society, resulting in the needless oppression of gay people. The subject remains subtextual, apparently taboo, which may reflect their culture's origins in the U.S. Army. Additionally, the Brotherhood's medieval theming dovetails intuitively with these themes of traditional propriety, regressive superstition, and closed-minded stagnation.

Caesar's law has not ended homosexuality within his domain. Despite the obvious risks, some legionaries have continued to pursue relationships behind closed doors, especially given their access to slaves. So long as members complete their societal obligations and fulfill the child quotas, they are able to pursue romance with other men in secret. One line suggests homosexual relationships in the faction are relatively equal to the average Legion husband and wife in some ways, apparently a "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" sort of open secret policy. Despite this, gay legionaries must always make sure to keep their activities hidden.

A centurion was once almost caught fraternizing with the teenage boy he had chosen to tend his tent. Despite previous "romantic" intentions, he quickly resolved to dispose of the slave to dispel suspicion. Had they been caught together, the centurion would have been charged with homosexuality and sentenced to death. This story is only known because the enslaved young man, Jimmy, managed to escape execution. Further illustrating the cruelty intrinsic to Legion governance, it's stated that homosexuality was the crime, and not the rape of a young slave; in fact, it seems Jimmy was forced to contribute to the child quota despite being a gay teenager, and the experience left him traumatized. He has resolved to never have sex with another woman, as the very notion triggers memories which fill him with disgust, and (in his own words) makes him feel like a slave all over again.

The Strip is indifferent to gay people, viewing them as another opportunity to make caps. Both the Gomorrah and the Atomic Wrangler are interested in maximizing profits, and their prostitution services cater to clients regardless of their orientation. The openly gay Jimmy works at nearby Casa Madrid, but there is some tension among his peers due to his co-worker Maude's blatant homophobia. She supposes he's "okay, for one of those," and if propositioned by a female Courier, Maude will direct them to Sweetie for such "perverted" services. Pretty Sarah must regularly intervene to keep the peace among her staff.

New Vegas ventures further into themes of healing from the trauma of sexual violence, from the perspective of a lesbian character. NCR sharpshooter Corporal Betsy is a survivor of rape, and suffers with PTSD from the incident. Her unprocessed trauma has manifested as a maladaptive tendency to aggressively and explicitly proposition the women she encounters, in an effort to reassert a sense of control. This defensive hypersexual impulse has negatively impacted her ability to connect with other women. A male superior officer notes that her behavior is inappropriate for anyone of her stature, but abstains from disciplining her out of sincere concern for her mental health. The Courier can help her begin to recognize these problems, and convince her to seek treatment from Doctor Usanagi at the New Vegas medical clinic, which proves helpful to her as she processes and heals from her trauma. An NCR side-quest involves finding and killing her rapist.

A more significant movement out west, the Followers of the Apocalypse only control one major outpost in the Mojave, the Old Mormon Fort, somewhat ironic given the social and historical connotations of Mormonism. They allow outcasts and downtrodden to take shelter among their tents here, and do not stigmatize sex workers or addicts. A bisexual ghoul sex worker named Beatrix Russel can be encountered here, and the Courier may do business with her.

The Followers tend not to form hierarchies, and insist that the Courier choose non-violent approaches while carrying out their quests, which involve directly bettering the surrounding community of Freeside. Among other tasks, the player may be tasked to distribute Fixer (a medicine comparable to methadone) to homeless people experiencing withdrawal, or aid those abused by chem dealers. The main quest giver for the faction is community coordinator Julie Farkas, a doctor with a bold and unusual mohawk.

At Red Rock Canyon, the Courier can help a young man find purpose and kinship by convincing him to leave home and join the Followers. Jerry the Punk is a Great Khan who has been ostracized for writing poetry, and the upcoming masculinity rites expected of him by his small, tense village give him reason to actively fear for his life. Jerry has positive memories of the Followers from his childhood, because there was a time when they would bring books to share with the Great Khans tribe. The Punk finds a sense of purpose and connection when he leaves his isolated home settlement of harsh, angry men to live among the Followers, who see value in his gentle, creative nature as opposed to belittling him.

At the time of the events of Fallout, the Followers of the Apocalypse presented as benevolent secular monks who opposed the Children of the Cathedral cult. In the wake of the Unity Crisis, the city of Boneyard peacefully joined the NCR. The fiction of New Vegas establishes that, in pursuit of their founding principles, the Followers developed into a transgressive force for leftist values, openly critical of the NCR's capitalistic profit-based society. Director J.E. Sawyer freely acknowledges that the values of the Followers of the Apocalypse were informed by leftist philosophy:

"The Followers of the Apocalypse: Libertarians, socialists, communists, or greens?" Sawyer: "They vary significantly, but range from anarcho-syndicatists to socialists to communists. Their general tendency to be inclusive and non-hierarchical means they don't have a single outlook or 'platform.'"

The distinctive character design of faction representative Julie Farkas resembles an archetypical punk woman. Being a far-left counterculture of a capitalistic empire, the Followers of the Apocalypse generally evoke and directly mirror the goals and organizational methods of the modern punk movement--more acutely, they embody the sensibilities of America's rail punks, a highly transient subculture who overwhelmingly emphasize volunteerism and anti-imperial philosophy, as opposed to the sensationalism of the reactionary punk rocker scene, which is defined by the moving target of aesthetic/social transgression. This read is further informed by the Followers' inclusiveness, abundantly evidenced in their care for people marginalized by other wasteland societies, including unhoused people, addicts, sex workers, gay people, tribal people, political dissidents, criminalized people, and mutated people.

The most prominent member of the faction is Arcade Gannon, a player companion and openly gay man, who was born an illegal person under NCR law. Upon meeting Courier Six, Arcade offhandedly makes his gayness known, unprompted. The audience must face the fact that Arcade's apprehension of the Legion is far from abstract; under Legion law, he would be put to death.

Arcade will not hesitate to abandon the player if he disapproves of their actions, but if his trust is carefully earned, he will reveal his origins. Arcade was born into the Enclave just before it collapsed. He hides this because his existence is a crime under New California Republic law. He abandoned his fascist background to serve the Followers' ideology of learning, harm reduction, and antifascism.

Additionally, Arcade is critical of the NCR, and encourages the player to re-route the power of HELIOS One to Freeside rather than the NCR power grid. Should the Courier sell Arcade to the Legion and subsequently lead the NCR to victory at the Dam, Arcade will ultimately be identified as Enclave-born and arrested from his position of slavery to spend the rest of his life in an NCR prison. As a gay man originally born to the Enclave, his very existence is criminalized under the law of both the NCR and the Legion.

Another possible ending provides further insight into Caesar's hypocrisy: should the player sell Arcade into slavery and leave Caesar alive, he will keep Arcade as a personal physician and philosophical advisor. They intellectually spar at length, and Caesar grows singularly fond of him. Accordingly, Arcade imitates the historic suicide of Cato the Younger by disemboweling himself, rather than suffer the favor of the mad Caesar. The Legion's remaining medics attempted to save his life, but none were Arcade's equal. Caesar understood his doctor's final gesture of contempt, and mourned him for months.

In Old World Blues, the Think Tank are five floating brains in jars who express themselves by waving robotic arms bearing screens depicting facial features. Before the War, they were federal scientists who committed crimes against humanity in the name of weapons development. Each is stuck in some sort of neuro-bionic feedback loop which prevents them from moving forward with their projects, mentally binding them to their central laboratory. Walking through their homes at Higgs Village, it's clear each was deeply neurotic before they were transformed into floating brains.

Now without bodies, they attempt to maintain the illusion that they are exempt from sexuality as purely mental beings, but each displays obvious interest in the human form. They have codified this shaming with the term "formography." Most of the men are obsessively defensive over their complete disinterest in penises, which they talk about constantly. However, the shameless Dr. Dala shows overwhelming interest in observing and recording any and all human functions. Already androgynous in her pre-War life, Dala has taken to self-identifying as a "gender neutral entity" (though she is not known to use they/them pronouns). Regardless of the Courier's gender, they may coquettishly scratch themselves, clear their throat, and stretch in front of Dala until her biomed gel decoagulates. Dr. 8 also responds positively to graphic masturbation advice from Couriers of either gender.

The X-8 research facility is ostensibly a massive immersive shrine to Doctor Borous's hatred of Richie "Ball-Lover" Marcus, a long-dead child who bullied Borous centuries ago. He also clings to his resentment of one Betsy Bright, who refused to attend a dance with him, supposedly so she could "go smoke with RICHIE MARCUS." Clearly arrested in development, Borous has literally built a temple to the fantasy of torturing his adolescent romantic rival and feeding him to dogs. His frozen, static characterization of the jock Richie Marcus as a "pinko-commie" who "likes balls" reflects the shallowness, pettiness, and overall misanthropy underlying his patriotic identity.

It remains apparent throughout Old World Blues that the Think Tank are all chronically sexually repressed, which is inseparable from the values of the violent and judgmental pre-War culture which created them. With time and isolation, this ingrained repression has manifested as various intense and deranged psychosexual behaviors, including rage-fueled homophobia, voyeurism, and the obsessive performance of puritanical pretense.

____

“Although I’ve been out for a very long time, I made a conscious effort to be out with relation to this project, as I wanted to be visible as a lesbian in the game industry. New Vegas itself is, I think, one of (if not the) best games out there in how we treat homosexuality – and all of that is very intentional.”

“If my work on FNV, if my being out has helped even one gay person, then I have succeeded.”

— Tess “Obsidian’s Gay Cowgirl” Treadwell

____

written (with help from other editors) for Nukapedia.

NUKAPEDIA HAS BEEN SEIZED BY AN ALT-RIGHT HIGH-CONTROL GROUP WHO TARGET MINORS AND MARGINALIZED PEOPLE. THEY HAVE HELD IT FOR ONE YEAR. THEY HAVE NEAR-COMPLETELY PURGED QUEER EDITORS AND EDITORS OF COLOR FROM DISCORD AND STAFF. THEY ARE ABOUT TO TRY TO ABOLISH VOTING.

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS ESSAY PLEASE IMMEDIATELY JOIN THE COMMUNITY AND BE VIGILANT. THERE ARE 20 OF THEM LEFT AT MOST. THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF YOU. THEY SURVIVE ON NARRATIVE CONTROL. IF YOU SIMPLY PARTICIPATE IN COMMUNITY FORUMS AND STAFF TALK PAGE CONVERSATIONS THEY WILL BE UNABLE TO CONTINUE.

PLEASE SEE THIS POST FOR MORE INFORMATION

[walkingstackofbooks]

IPS/BIL AU where Tain dies before he can send the message. Garak and Worf never go to the gamma quadrant. Julian and Martok don't get rescued.

Back on DS9 the changeling is stopped pretty much just as it was in canon, with Kira and Dax managing to stop the Yukon from reaching the sun, just as it explodes. (Maybe since Garak is still on the station, he notifies Sisko that Bashir has taken the Yukon out?) This time, however, no-one knows it was a changeling, and among all the shock and grief, there's tense speculation about what the hell Julian was doing out there in a runabout with a bomb.

The changeling had planned to never be identified, believing it would sow more confusion and fear in the Federation if they believe one of their own had been secretly allied with the Dominion. And so the changeling had left behind a trail of "Julian" interacting with highly questionable locked-down message-boards such as "Would enhanced individuals be better off under the Dominion?", which would never have been tracked back to him apart from under such scrutiny he's now post-humously receiving. (The changeling knew about Julian's enhancements - to become something is to understand that thing, after all.)

Of course, it is considered whether Julian may have been impersonated by a changeling, but once the link to his enhancements has been revealed - and his parents can't hide it, they confess, and are sentenced to time in a penal colony - it seems very much decided that Doctor Bashir had become an augment extremist, biding his time on DS9 until he could play out his part in the Dominion plot. There's varying levels of acceptance of this among Julian's friends - even if it seems that they have to admit it, it's still almost impossible to believe that Julian could have tried to do that. But it doesn't really matter what they think - life has to go on, and the war's continuing whether they like it or not, and little by little they move on with their now-Julian-less lives.

Time passes. they get a new CMO. The Cardassians re-occupy the station, and Sisko leads the campaign to get it back. Worf and Jadzia get married. Garak gets a message.

A.L.I.V.E. J.S.B.

And no-one knows what to think. JSB can't be... can it? But how...

Garak argues that Doctor Bashir's death is so well-known that no-one would use his name as the basis for some sort of trap. Miles agrees. Everyone else wants to agree. (For a certain definition of 'want'. Julian being alive, not a traitor... that also means he's been doing somewhere in the past ten months, and it's difficult to think about what sort of awful place that might have been.)

Garak and Worf are sent out to chase this signal - in theory, it's recon, but naturally it quickly devolves. They get captured themsleves, finding Camp 371 and Julian, looking ten months worse for wear. Garak learns about Tain's death, and the subspace transmitter he'd began working on and that they'd only just been able to finish, having managed to recruit a recently-abducted Starfleet engineer. An engineer who's currently in solitary, leaving them with a plan to escape now there's a runabout in orbit, but no way to effect it. Unless there's something Garak can do...

And Worf, of course, meets Martok, and is impressed by the Klingon's tale of daily fights for nearly three years. "Almost every day," Martok corrects him. "There have been times when I've woken up with a sore head to find that the doctor has taken my place."

Worf looks to Julian, nodding. "So you are the man we remember," he says. "Your enhancements may have helped you fight, but it was an honourable thing to volunteer."

"My... my enhancements?" asks Julian faintly. "What- what do you mean?"

"Commander, is now really the time—" Garak tries to interrupt but Julian speaks over him.

"No, Garak, I want to know— I-I need to know. What do you mean, Worf?"

And Worf, in his short, succinct way tells Julian how they had believed he had died, and what they had discovered thereafter, and while they know now that he is not an augment extremist, his parents' confession made it clear that he is an augment.

Julian doesn't say very much after that, apart from what is needed to help with the rescue - he calms Garak down, he volunteers to try and figure out what needs doing in the crawl space ("I've learnt at least a few things from tinkering with it over those seven months...") - but otherwise, he's withdrawn and spacey. Garak perserveres - he must get Julian back to DS9, has to hope there's still time to rekindle that light in his doctor's eyes - and manages to get them out, and even locking onto the engineer's life sign in solitary. They make it to the runabout, and escape.

It's a very different sort of homecoming. This time, rather than having only a few hours to get used to the idea that Julian had been missing for a month, they've been mourning him for almost a year, angry and confused and left with so many questions. And they've had almost a week of wondering what's become of Worf and Garak, and to tie themselves in circles wondering if J.S.B really could be Julian Subatoi Bashir.

Garak gets them all beamed directly to sickbay, and it's obvious that Julian's overwhelmed enough by that without having hordes of emotional friends come to greet him. So they're allowed in, one at a time. Miles petitions to be first, and wraps Julian up in what would have been the firmest of hugs - apart from Julian's so gaunt, so... so fragile, that Miles finds he dares not squeeze too hard. Words gush out - ones that he'd never have thought he'd admit out loud - about how much he missed Julian and how glad he is none of what they said was true, and it takes him some time to realise that he's been blabbering on and Julian's not been saying a word.

Julian has been clinging onto him tightly, though, and that... that's got to be enough, for now.

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Sisko and Garak’s dynamic is delicious in In the Pale Moonlight, and there are also interesting questions it raises as to Garak and Bashir’s dynamic (personally I headcanon that they’re somewhat estranged at this point, in part because the war and later Section 31 stuff has brought the mystery and intrigue that Garak once represented to Bashir a little too close to home, but it is at least another angle to get at their ideological differences).

But the other piece of this weird little triangle is Sisko and Bashir’s dynamic. Because Bashir is part of the chain of moral compromises that Sisko has to make to see Garak’s scheme through, as Sisko twists his arm to get the biomemetic gel. And Bashir is angry about it! But it’s not followed through on at all - the next time he appears it’s just when he and Jadzia are pleasantly surprised at how few casualties there have been this week.

It’s especially interesting to see that moment of tension between them given that this episode comes not all that long after Statistical Probabilities, another significant ideological break between Sisko and Bashir. And in that case, it’s Bashir arguing for surrender to the Dominion out of a pragmatic motive to prevent loss of life (even if it’s a pragmatism stemming from far-reaching speculation); and Sisko’s rejection is one based in ideals, the notion that it’s better to go down fighting in service of one’s values than to compromise them (something also reflected in his behaviour in Sacrifice of Angels, when he’s ready to go down with the Defiant in the face of a full-scale invasion).

Those ideals are what are challenged in In the Pale Moonlight, when honest fighting and diplomacy aren’t sufficient, and it is necessary to resort to deceit and do collateral damage in order to prevent further loss of life. How exactly that turnaround would affect his dynamic with Bashir - especially given that earlier in the show, Bashir was more of an idealist, and Sisko was the one who had more of an understanding of the costs required to uphold those ideals - is a really rich question. (Especially given what Bashir explicitly brings up - that the releasing the biomemetic gel has the potential to do even more collateral damage than Garak prompts Sisko to accept.)

There’s also another angle to this, which is the fact that the episode comes on the heels of “Inquisition”, i.e. Bashir’s first introduction to shadowy behind-the scenes workings of Starfleet/the Federation. Lots of people have pointed out the foreshadowing of Bashir’s “are we willing to sacrifice our principles in order to survive?” at the end of that episode, but there’s something else as well. Bashir, in response to the request for biomemetic gel, says he’s going to file a complaint with Starfleet Medical - but it’s implied through Sisko and Garak’s conversation that Starfleet would, if not officially sanction, then at least tacitly condone it as a necessary tactic to tip their odds in the conflict. And that kind of situation in which Bashir tries to register a moral protest and it falls on deaf ears with Starfleet plays out more explicitly later in Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges.

Anyway! In the Pale Moonlight is about as perfect an episode as you can get, but the dynamic with Sisko and Bashir is one thread I wish had been followed through on a bit more.