DISCLAIMER:
The characters Dax, Kira, Worf, Sisko, Quark, Leeta and Lenara are the property of Paramount Pictures and the Star Trek Deep Space Nine creators. I have simply borrowed them to help with "The Promise." All other characters, the words used to describe them, along with the events that take place come from my own imagination and therefore belong to me. Please don't copy them without my permission.
Also this story portrays emotional and sexual intimacy between two consenting adult women, if that offends you, check out the Disney Sites. I won't be offended if you don't read it. If you live somewhere where this kind of thing is illegal to read, then again don't go any further and consider seriously about moving away.
Peace of My Heart (Location: The Delta Quadrant. Star Date: 59151.9)
Jadzia Dax reclined comfortably back in the pilot’s seat of the Rio Grand, eyes shut, arms folded across a generous and well proportioned chest, her legs ungraciously sprawled either side of the controls panel. Readings from the panel put illumination within the small shuttle at 30% and registered the volume from the stereo output at near maximum. ‘B’taqulk’ her current favorite in Worf’s operas echoed all around, creating the ideal solitary atmosphere for her return trip.
Polished boots, baton like, kept perfect time in a space of their own while thoughts of the stoic warrior and their shared love of Klingon music occupied any available gray matter. An equally favorite topic she reminded herself.
In fact the most recent of these was only this morning, and unfortunately also related to her musical habits. She had needed to remain invariably diplomatic and suppress outright laughter at the site of him clutching his treasured music files, mercilessly lecturing her on her lack of ‘honor’. Worf, whose humor was minimal at best found no amusement in Dax’s hap hazard approach to caring for her own or anyone else’s property. She knew he’d reached an all time high managing to include the word 'honor' into almost every other sentence he uttered. Her shame, perhaps of no surprise to those who knew the beautiful Commander,was the late and slightly damaged return of his precious files. She was more than a little relieved she was on a solo journey right now, if Worf had come along he would still be carrying on she thought.
The Delta quadrant trip would take another two and half hours, plenty of time to catch up on some much needed relaxation, .... and a little contemplation. With Benjamin back on earth for another month and Kira in charge of the station, Dax was getting to spend more and more assignments away from Ops, and more time cruising the still very much unexplored quadrant. It was hard to admit, but there was more than just a little of Curzon’s wild streak, Torias’ too alive and well in her. Perhaps in all honesty too much for her own good at times, because life had been anything but contemplative lately.
In two days she would celebrate her birthday and if there was ever a time to reassess it was now. Jadzia at least would be turning thirty three, Dax she mused had achieved the milestone of 355 last month. It got confusing at times having two dates to remember, non Trills certainly didn't understand it, but between them they had managed to clock up near on four centuries of birthdays and the parties to go with them. - No wonder she felt old, bored, she was.
What was the point she pondered in the privacy of the shuttle, of living life time after life time, to find love, and either out live it, or be sworn to deny it......
She spent a few more moments reminiscing over some of Worf’s countless and oh so solemn speeches on conduct befitting Klingons. She had given up pointing out the obvious to him that she wasn't a Klingon, but that appeared to be of little importance when he was set on lecturing her. Worf had a speech for just about anything; Klingon women, Klingon warriors,..... Klingon mates.
......Hmmm..... The spots along her forehead and neck expanded with the frown forming on her face. ".....his deepest disappointment."
Their short and torrid affair had lasted two weeks, their friendship thankfully strong before hand returned and prospered in the ensuing 6 months after. Dax had told him they had mistaken passion for love, and for the time being she wanted to dictate the rules over one and nothing to do with the other. Who was she kidding, the relationship was sentenced to death the day it had started, she'd made sure of that.
She'd been wandering from lover to lover for the better part of the last year, trying to fill the gap, trying to make the pain ache a little less. Worf got caught in the crossfire that's all.
Her more recent attempts in drowning her sorrows hadn't fared any better, re-initiating a relationship with Leeta was also nothing more than a poor substitute for what her heart truly craved. Shamefully Leeta knew it too.
Dax shifted her body weight in the pilots seat stretching to clasp the back of her neck with knitted fingers. She recalled the night early on in their union when Leeta simply turned to her during love making and without expression stated;
“If its just the sex you want Dax, then that’s okay, but don't pretend to me that its anything more.”
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter some how hoping it would take the sting out of Leeta’s image in her bed. - It didn’t. After that night she avoided taking anyone to her own quarters, preferring the sterility of the holosuites or the novelty of sleeping over; she told herself it was all part of the adventure, but really it just made it easier to get up and leave after....
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Her arrival back on the station would be around 18.30 hours, she would need to file her report with Kira, and she'd be a free woman for the evening. Perhaps she'd take Quark up on his constant demand for a rematch at the Tongo wheel. He’d lost too much latinum to the Trill lately, beyond what he referred to as friendly sportsmanship. Dax wasn't completely sure a Ferengi knew the meaning of words like sportsmanship but thought she agreed in part that it ultimately meant she was bad for business.....It would mean seeing Leeta, it would mean......It wasn't that Leeta objected to entertaining the Commander at the Tongo wheel, after all it was her job...... It wasn't that Dax objected to the attention........
Dax groaned impatiently with herself, throwing her legs down from the control console. One sharp command ended the symphony, the abrupt silence slapping out hard deafening her..... She was on her feet pacing the tight confines of the shuttle.
“This has to stop. Life has more to offer than...... I know that”
Dax knew everyone close to her on the station had been more than willing to provide support, company, a distraction for her. But one week turned into a month and so on. Almost a full year had gone by and she was no closer to feeling whole than the day Lenara left.
There had been no direct contact with Trill, only the rare second or third hand message regarding their home world. She had given up asking for news, told herself it probably put Lenara at risk. The truth was it simply hurt too much to be told nothing. Tears welling up in ancient eyes were sucked back down with the skill of months of practice. These internal debates were pointless, she was just torturing herself. Self talk, constant reflection on the past, they only served to bind them together, bind them foolishly to something she knew could never be...... Today was no different from any other, if she closed her eyes it was as if it happened yesterday. Words and the images played back on a repetitive loop in a mind old enough to remember it all, yet cursed to be eternally alone.
They were huddled together in a Jeffrey’s tube off main engineering on the Defiant. Lenara was injured but not badly. She clung to Dax for comfort and reassurance, but truly out of unprecedented relief....
“I thought I’d lost you." Dax breathed barely trusting her own voice
There had been a feed back loop, exploding the class four probe and causing a ripple effect on the ship. Engineering was leaking plasma from two main conduits, evacuation procedures were taking place.
Dax pulled her to safety and then vented the departments atmosphere into space. And then as they waited for the room to re-compressurize Dax had kissed her again. Not at all tentative or restrained like the night before, passionate hungry, bordering on desperate. They had faced death again, only this time they'd both survived. Their memories open wide to one another, Dax could clearly read her thoughts, recall the shuttle accident that claimed her life a hundred years before.
So much pain, so much unbearable grief. It had eaten away at Nilani's very soul and Dax's final realization of this racked through her body like a plasma storm.
In the safety of their confinement, Dax's lips had sought and fed off hers and Lenara in return allowed herself to be devoured.
They were racing death, though any real danger had long since passed. They were racing time, all too aware that reality awaited them just outside the security hatch.
She'd needed to open her eyes, pinch herself. An hour away from docking at DS9 and the statuesque beauty of both intellect and reason stood hugging her shoulders. Rocking back and forth gently finding comfort in the only arms available to her, her own.
Welcome (Location: Deep Space Nine. - Now.)
Kira Nyres sat patiently observing her guest go through the obligatory motions of settling into new quarters. She smiled pleasantly relieved the Professor had arrived safely and without incident. Relieved that her part of the agreement was now almost over. Her role was to get Professor Kahn onto the station without raising a fuss, as far as Kira was concerned she had done just that.
It wasn't exactly worthy of an ex-resistance fighter's espionage mission, but still she'd 'disposed' of the main protagonist for the time being. Smuggling the good professor past Odo's security checks and registering her into the general station population as if she'd been there forever. That was part A of the plan. Part B was turning out to be something Kira wasn't very good at all, remaining patient. She'd been in Lenara Kahn's company for well nigh on an hour now and had received little more than the occasional forced nod in return.
“I hope everything is satisfactory Professor Kahn.” Kira stated gently.
“Please, call me Lenara” She didn't look up.
“Lenara it is” Kira beamed back hopeful of a real conversation this time. She prayed the professor would to, give her some indication of the reasons for her arrival back on Deep Space Nine. She hadn't, retreating again into her many bags and computer containers, apparently oblivious to Kira’s wondering gaze.
Kira thought it looked like Lenara was unpacking her entire life in front of her. Computer crates were still be transported into the room as they spoke, she counted over twenty other styled boxes and it didn't look like it was about to slow down soon. She herself had lived on the station for 5 years and couldn't claim to own that much of anything. Worse still Lenara appeared to be inspecting everything in great detail. As they were removed from their travel homes each item was closely examined, touched and turned gently. Fingers sensually welcoming them to this new place, then placing them just so.
Kira speculated it was so she would some how feel more at home. It was understandable really, Cadassian design did little to encourage comfort or congeniality. Cold steel pylons and truly ugly technology permeated every living space on the station. Thankfully Kira had managed to disguise most of it in her own established quarters, but she still had to walk through the largely unaltered promenade from the occupation every day and sit at the work stations. The professor certainly couldn't be condemned for doing what they all tried. Cover up the impossible.
It had been exactly three weeks since Kira received the sub space message from Lenara, sent directly to her on a secure channel. At first she had thought it a mistake, certain it was actually Dax that the she had wanted to speak with. Kira even felt a moments anxious delight on behalf of her friend. But no, Lenara had told Kira in a somewhat lowed tone that under no circumstances was Commander Dax to know of her transmission, or her intentions. What Lenara did not say was that if she were to see Dax or speak with her before she was able to leave Trill, then she was sure her emotional control would be lost and there would be no way that she would be able to execute her plan. Last year when Lenara first came to DS9 to test her theories on artificial worm holes she knew she would be meeting Dax. She didn't know it would launch a chain of events that would change her life forever.
Lenara, like Dax, was a joined Trill, an ancient and honored tradition of her people. Available only to the brightest, most committed of candidates and drawn from a mere one percent of their entire population. To be selected to be joined, was considered the highest achievement one could reach.
Lenara had been host to the Kahn symbiont for 15 years, carrying within her the memories of all ten of its past lives and most importantly now its past loves.
Of all the memories, Nilani, the last host remained the strongest, most vivid. So similar in personality and interests were the two women that Lenara’s acceptance of the symbiont had been the easiest Kahn could remember. It was a happy and fulfilling joining for both. None of the usual feelings of conflict and stilted integration. Immediately also Lenara knew that Nilani had welcomed the release from a long and lonely life, almost called for death to set her free. Too many years of solitude and lack of companionship had left her jaded and lacking in the common pleasantries expected of her by her colleagues. She had become the “Morta” or “swamp ghost” to the younger members of the science ministry, some one to steer clear of, stern and uncompromising.
So removed from the youthful Nilani who dreamed of quasars and quarks, and loved him so deeply......all gone.... long gone..... There had been no children to morn her nor relatives of a spouse long dead. Only the sole figure of her house keeper had attended the burial ritual, sponsored it seemed by the Trill Science Ministry.
Lenara had actually met Nilani nearing the end of her appointment at the Ministry, her own work impressing the aging and generally irritable Lecturer, and that in its self inspired the much younger Lenara to simply continue on with the research Nilani had being working on to her death at age 97.
For a time she had believed it was their shared love of quantum physics and inherent need for solitude that kept Nilani’s memory so vivid in Lenara’s life. She had even once, not long after her joining with Kahn, visited Nilani’s burial plot. She hadn't really known why, only that it seemed respectful some how, and she felt the need to see her at rest. She had also visited Nilani’s husbands grave, Torias Dax had been laid to rest in the adjacent plot awaiting her arrival some 60 years prior. Finally they were together again and Lenara left them there in peace, to love for their eternity.
The years past, the research continued and Lenara no longer wondered what Nilani would think or do. She was her own woman, considered quite beautiful by her peoples standards, strong, and well respected amongst her peers, sought after constantly for advice on this project or that. She was proud of her independence, proud of her commitment to the Trill religion and traditional ways. Still at 42 she remained without any intimate significant other in her life. It was an almost perfect existence she felt except for the loneliness she hardly ever let herself acknowledge. She took comfort in the companionship of her younger brother who had stayed close and chosen to work by her side. And somehow through the years she convinced herself that the love Nilani and Torias knew was not to be hers.
Last year changed everything. Dax should of be damned for that! In the space of seven days Lenara had gone from knowing exactly what life had in store for her, predictable and safe as it was, to cheating death and ...... she had met Jadzia Dax.
Lenara sat down with little more of a thud than she intended, finally ceasing her aimless journey around the place she was now to call home. Eyes focused into the past.
“Lenara?” Kira was standing in front of the Professor. “You looked....” she hesitated not wanting to appear too presumptuous in their emerging friendship.
“I’m sorry Kira, I guess I’m a little disorientated” she attempted a weak smile. " I think its because I forgot to eat again" Kira saw the color leave her, fatigue apparently taking hold.
Automatically the Major moved to the replicator station built into the far wall, only turning back when she realized she had no idea what Lenara would like. What should she offer her. It was a sure bet most Trill didn't eat like Dax.
"What can I get you?"
Lenara waved the suggestion off. She knew eating wouldn't help ....
"The trip has left me .... I ....”
She hadn't realized exactly when they started, or that they would come at all, but tears rolled down a haunted face now with no hope of restraint. Timeless eyes speaking of the boundless agony behind them.
Kira momentarily pondered the fact that those eyes were as old as Dax's, possibly older and right now were showing enough distress for all their life times. She still didn't know why Lenara had chosen her, entrusted her with making her relocation possible. But for what ever reason she had and Kira wasn't prepared to let either her or her best friend down. What ever brought Lenara back after the seeming finality of last years departure appeared enough to tear away the self protective barriers of a woman more than ten times her age.
Reaching out a solitary hand Kira took one of the Professors in it. ...And so there they sat, Kira kneeling motionless, Lenara sobbing silently.......
When It Changed. (The Trill Home World - 3 Months Prior)
Lenara took the steps of the Symbiosis Commission two at a time, her breath cutting the morning chill on impact. Brief sideways glances told her she was alone on this seemingly crack of dawn journey, walkways and adjoining buildings still appearing deserted or unoccupied.
"It's of little wonder." she mumbled to herself. Confident that those out at this time of day were either fools or worked for the government. Lenara conceded she was possibly both at this moment.
The message had said urgent. All of the Science Ministry's senior analysts had been summoned, though curiously Bazoal as her assistant had firmly but politely been excluded. Her usually amiable disposition was replaced with more than a touch of annoyance, truly questioning what was so important for a 06:00 emergency meeting anyhow? What was so secret that she had been instructed to attend alone.
She scolded herself for not dressing a little warmer. The wind storms common at night had brought a colder than expected morning. Her garments of blues and grays blew as far as their design would allow away from her slight frame. Out and whipping up about her. Modesty kept a hand firmly placed at her thigh forcing her mid length overdress from rising any higher in the gust.
Winter months on Trill meant temperatures could drop well below freezing without the protection of the weather grid. The weather grid however could do little to change night into day. Winter covered almost half of the planet's yearly cycle and ensured their usual 24 hour day was in fact an eight hours of light and 16 hours of night. The grid simply proposed varying degrees of cold as opposed to dead freeze. Though a native to the climate, Lenara had found it difficult even as a small child to completely get warm or wake while it was still dark outside. Sometimes she felt living on Trill was a kin to living on a space station with out the environmental controls.
She arrived in the grand meeting hall at a few minutes to the hour. A dozen or so of her colleagues from the Science Ministry were milling around one of the public replicators, trying to catch their morning meal. Lenara smiled finally, though inwardly, taking her position at the end of the queue. At least she wasn’t the only one who functioned poorly at this hour.
Another handful of Symbiosis bureaucrats were gathering at the front podium speaking in whispers. It dawned on her, as a vague afterthought that this was only her third official invitation in all her years at the Ministry. She imagined that some of her colleagues had never been to the great hall before. The Commission was renowned for not consulting outside their own faculty and having an open house policy certainly wouldn't occur to them. Among her worlds science population they were viewed as the elite, generally counting themselves beyond external input. Beyond public scrutiny. A belief though without any actual basis was begrudgingly accepted by 'outsiders' such as herself who believed their time better spent carrying out research than playing politics. No matter she thought she enjoyed being an outsider if it meant she didn't have to play the 'games' of the commission.
As the line drew to an end, Lenara stepped up to the replicator and spoke directly into the sensor. "Tarkalean Tea, double sweet."
A few more moments of cordial chatter with barely enough time to finish her tea and a signal for the meeting to come to order was being relayed. She took herself into the crowd choosing a seat near the back of the hall deep into the seats and bodies that numbered easily one hundred.
The gallery floor which hosted the great hall sat centre stage and completely visible to a spiral of balcony levels carved centuries past. Elaborate and grandiose statues and paintings told the historical importance and development over time of the joined species. Host and symbiont depicted in tireless artistic vision. The Commission's Chambers was certainly not the oldest fixture on the planet but perhaps the best preserved she mused. It's very design was enough to leave any observer in awe. Lenara was no exception.
Quiet settled over the group as they waited for Odan himself, head of the Commission to address them. Scholars all in their individual fields. Lenara needed to strain upward to bring him completely into view. Her slight frame well over shadowed by the taller members of the contingent. Perhaps sitting closer to the front may have had its advantages.
Through heads and shoulders she managed to see Odan as he stepped gracefully to the podium pausing only to nod sparingly to those few he knew personally within the crowd. Lenara thought with every much the manipulative charm that had found him elected year after year as head of the Commission's Selection Council. His opening words charged it seemed with the conviction of a man on a mission. Or at least of a man with a motive.
“It is with great urgency that I summon you all here today." Silence fell
"We of the Commission believe that a potentially disastrous event has taken place, an event that if not properly contained could unravel the very fabric of our society.”
Perhaps it was his tone or his choice of words or both but from the onset Lenara was predicting 'the event' appeared to be more of a moral disaster rather than a natural one. As he continued she wondered if what she was hearing wasn't in fact the Symbiosis Commissions ridiculous idea of a joke.
“The public discovery of exiled Trill now surreptitiously returning to our home world can only result in a resurgence of disenchantment surrounding the Reassociation Policy." He paused.
“The Commission has therefore decided after much consideration to collaborate with those respected colleagues outside the S.C. that are versed in this area so we may be able to reach a satisfactory result.”
“Wonder what his definition of satisfactory would be?” Mila Seti whispered just loud enough for Lenara to hear. Lenara nodded slightly acknowledging her friends comment, patting the others woman's knee in a customary 'I’m glad you’re here'. Mila had been one of the last of the selected ‘outsiders’ to arrive, slipping into the seat next to Lenara only moments before.
“It has been known to the S.C. for sometime that.....this situation is becoming beyond even the Commissions control.” Lenara thought she saw him fidgeting, almost nervous from his last disclosure.
“Those few who have been banished from Trill for reassociation....”
He’s stalling Mila chimed in. Lenara decided she was probably right, the director of the Symbiosis Commission was in fact playing for time.
Behind him a 10 metre visual display field blinked on and began filling in Odan's unspoken dialogue. The holographic images were of two young women, Lenara estimated that they were both in their early to mid twenties. She couldn't help admire their youthful elegance and striking beauty in their non-traditional garb. The date shown at the bottom of the field showed the images had been made the day before yesterday. Were these two to be viewed as a national threat?
Odan was pointing at the field. “These women are the result of illegal host transference.” It sounded like some children's playground offense.
“We understand the previous hosts were exiled last century for reassociation........ Our sources tell us that there is little doubt that these women are off spring hosts of the original two.......... We suspect that though it is unlikely that these new hosts will survive for any length of time, they must be brought into immediate custody for their own protection and well being.” He trailed off again. Lenara thought perhaps he was speaking to himself.
A rising buzz of chatter throughout the great hall started in unison. Invited guests began turning to speak to those seated behind them. Others shouting undignified questions at Odan. Mila was also saying something, but Lenara was already off on her own chain of thought. A jumble of possible scenarios were being played out in her head. The first thing a new initiate was taught was the danger of unsuitable joinings. The second was that nothing was more important then the life of the symbiont. Still these young women looked strong and healthy individuals. There appeared to be no physical abnormalities, nothing that suggested that they were any sort of threat.
“This is impossible.” Corrin was on his feet in the first row. Lenara smiled approval at seeing her friend appearing to take Odan on. “The chances of survival of unsuitable host and symbiont matches are predicted to be less than ten thousand to one” Clearly a statement rather than a question.
Odan was already surrounded at his podium by both SC and invited specialists, he either hadn't heard Corrin or more to character had dismissed it as irrelevant. Lenara observed his anticipated posturing and frowned, something was terribly wrong with this.
Though Odan’s speech appeared cut short she sensed it highly unlikely he would have shared anything more of substance with the group. Chiding herself for expecting anything but, there was always an underlying secrecy with anything the Commission was involved with. Why should this venture be different. She was being suspicious that’s all. She told herself that having suspicions was fine, but she wasn't a risk taker by nature, or a whistle blower for that matter.
It was only a brief moment before Lenara was being swept up in her own conversation with Mila. Her colleague draped comfortably off her upper arm with the familiarity of a life time of friendship chatting incessantly about Odan's cryptic speech. Corrin Dem had given up waiting for his question to the speaker to receive an answer and made his way to the two women. His obvious annoyance in the whole proceedings creased across his forehead.
The three had spent years working side by side on their individual projects at the Science Ministry. Lenara often reminded herself that after Bazoal her two colleagues were as close as family. It helped her rationalize the sometimes petty arguments that existed between Mila and Corrin. But then she thought it was one of the true constants in her life and she wasn't prepared to part with it. Mila the overly talkative and slightly younger of the trio got on Corrin’s nerves. It was a simple fact. She knew also that her friends loved one another as much as she loved them both, no matter what the facade.
“I can’t possibly think why they would want our help” Mila was asking, Lenara thought knowing full well the answer. Corrin just shut his eyes in frustration.
“We’re their credibility.” he confirmed, Lenara bowed her head in agreement. “If they’re telling us; they’ve known for sometime, investigated all the possibilities of keeping it between the walls of the SC and decided against it.”
Mila nodded good-naturedly, teasing Corrin was one thing, but this was serious.
“I 'm tempted to refuse the invitation.” Lenara knew he wouldn’t, none of them would refuse to help. She had to admire his continual and untwarted belligerence when it came to the Commission. Cynicism was an essential tool by any ones standards when dealing with the elitist members the Commission had a knack at producing. Corrin had turned it into an art.
As expected all three eventually heard themselves being invited to attend a briefing on the proposed collaborated project at 0800. In the end there was just 10 scientists selected from outside the Commission , only two of which who were actually Joined. And if anyone other than Lenara thought that in itself was strange, no one was verbalizing it.
The briefing itself lasted but thirty minutes and was made up predominately of Trill and Symbiont joint physiology, shadowed by repetitive holographic images of the 'fugitives'. The only other information presented appeared to be speculated personality profiles of the hosts. Subversive adjectives of extreme attachment between the two told her they were also suspected to be lovers. She studied their images a little closer after that, fearing she could have been looking at Dax and herself.
The session was winding to a close when their briefer was handed a hand PADD. Expressionless he read from it silently, then again to the gathering.
The girls had been located but was one reported dead on arrival at the first available medical facility. The other it appeared was still at bay. Cold and matter of fact, just like that. She fixed her eyes back on the holograph at the front of the room re-evaluating the image. Beautiful young eyes looked back. They were a couple. Lenara felt herself smother a moan, a silent condolence being delivered under her breath.
It made little difference, the briefer went on, the tests, which still hadn't been explained could commence on the deceased girl. The surviving fugitive was still being tracked. Security Central were making her 'recovery' a priority. It appeared in no way to alter the intentions of the commission.
And finally Lenara's opinion of the whole proceedings was that no one was any more informed in what was really going on then when they had arrived.
She was seated at her desk back at the Ministry late into the following morning when she received the transmission that the other girl had been caught. The one they called Dorian Tor, she downloaded the image that had accompanied the message on to a hand PADD before she came to her senses. Tucking it away in a desk drawer like a child with school contraband.
After that everything moved very quickly. Lenara was summoned back to the commissions laboratories that afternoon to start immediately on her part of the project. Being greeted again on her arrival with seemingly endless data files on the joining process, theories on symbiont rejection syndrome and other such useless material.
The fact that she still didn't know what 'her part' of the project was seemed irrelevant to everyone but her.
Dorian's Capture.
Dorian's eyes burned into the back of her neck, the intensity of their gaze making it near on impossible for Lenara to concentrate. The girl had not moved a muscle since they had brought her into the examination room, laying paralyzed and naked inside a confinement field, her stare had followed Lenara Kahn's every move. A totally unnecessarily requirement Lenara had verbalized more than once, her words falling into the silent vacuum that divided Corrin and herself. She had wanted to give the girl something to cover herself with, somehow believing it would make her ordeal a little easier to bear. As long as she lived, she would never understand the need for the likes of Doctor Renhol or others at the Symbiosis Commission to belittle and control others. The reality that those who had never experienced the pure ecstasy of joining or know first hand the enormous sense of responsibility that being joined demanded could weld such power was incomprehensible. That their decisions were based wholly on some out moded paranoia was becoming the most frightening of all.
She wondered if she was the only one amongst her colleagues who thought what was happening here was wrong. Had been thinking it since she had learned the true purpose for their new invention.
It occurred on the second day of Dorian's incarceration. Lenara had visited the two way mirror that surrounded the initial holding cell hours before the first round of tests were to begin. She convinced herself seeing the girl unobserved would some how aid her in her work. She hadn't been ready then to admit the truth to herself, that her original suspicions had returned tenfold and she was having more and more reason to believe in them with each passing moment. The girl had been kept in the 6 foot by 6 foot glass box for the first 48 hours of her capture, heavily guarded like some price catch. The tests and procedures which Lenara had been summoned so urgently to perform along with her conscripted colleagues were delayed and rescheduled so many times that she found herself lacking in any thing real to do except wait.
Acting on nothing more than a hunch at the time. She used what little authority presently installed upon her to usher the solitary young guard off on a mythical assignment and accessed the surveillance records. It was more than the secrecy that had unnerved her, she had expected that. But on viewing the records themselves, she realized the security scans which would usually be operational were non existent. Neither were the actual life sign monitors. What she did find was a training sub-routine of possible difficulties experienced by recently joined Trills used to teach first year medical students was set on a continuous loop.
Lenara would not have normally picked up such a technical slight of hand, except she had actually written this one and recognized the source code immediately. In fact all the programs running through the elaborate system were apparently purely for show. No actual data was being saved and accordingly the monitoring program was under constant guard so that fact would not be discovered. Lenara reset the program back on loop to avoid her visit to Dorian's cage being noted and walked away. There was nothing she could actually do with her discovery, not right then anyhow.
Corrin continued to fidget with the main pulse wave projector. Deep in thought recaliberizing the data to test its first, and quite clearly unwilling subject. Lenara found him uncharacteristically quiet, his usual quick wit and ever present sarcasm seemed to dissolve further with each hour they were at the Symbiosis Commission facilities. She noted they hadn't spoken about the purpose of the tests, or the implications of creating such technology, not since the girl had been caught. Her attempts to engage him in anything more in depth than the pathology results and actual test procedures passed unacknowledged. Her last attempt being met with frozen steel eyes which said 'don't go there Lenara, not even with me.'
Doctor Renhol entered the examination room accompanied by two of her aids; Hench men Lenara silently corrected herself.
"The Symbiont Locater is ready for test." Corrin stated without looking up from his console. Chief specialist Renhol nodded consent to begin.
As gently as possible Lenara told the girl that they were just performing some preliminary tests, that nothing was going to happen to her or her symbiont. Her reassurance had fallen on deaf ears, the girl made no indication that she had either heard or believed her. Lenara didn't know whether she believed herself.
The tests themselves were made up of three trial implants of the tiny probe designed and built by Lenara and Corrin being placed in separate parts of the subjects body. One neighbored next to the symbiont, another at the base of the hosts brain stem and finally in a lower calf muscle. Corrin said nothing, other than to murmur obscenities under his breath and over zealously order the med-techs around. Renhol stayed less than an hour, excusing herself with a disinterested wave and swept out as pretentiously as she had entered. Lenara actually thought she felt the air thin but had no one to share the cynical observation with.
They were into their fourth round of tests before she finally managed to convince Corrin to speak to her privately. Dragging him back to their temporary office space for debriefing under the guise of a shared beverage of his choice. This was one occasion she was thankful for his frequent and over indulgence in alcohol, any alcohol. Mila Seti had been stuck two sections away analyzing data from the post mortem performed on the other girl. It was all Lenara could do to even get a message to her. But by mid afternoon Mila too had found an excuse to join them privately.
With security camera's perched on seemingly every wall of their interim quarters there was little room for conversation beyond 'tests progressing according to plan'. In the end it didn't really matter that they were being constantly monitored, the three knew each other well enough to read the unsaid and answer the unasked.
It was decided, Mila was having a special dinner for her son's graduation, they were both to come, bring their families. The dinner was to be tonight in her home province. 'Yes, yes of course. 22:00, perfect.' Neither would miss the opportunity. If the Symbiosis central security had bothered to check they would have discovered that Mila didn't actually have a son. To her and her husband's deepest regret they were unable to have any children at all.
After their brief and easily fabricated conversation, the three friends returned to their individual posts and continued on with what tasks that were required of them for the remainder of the day. Conscious now to avoid appearing in any way suspicious, or in opposition to the intentions of the Commission. Lenara finally breathed a momentary sigh, relieved it wasn't her imagination at all. There did appear to be a conspiracy at hand, another sigh for her own assumed safety was liberated more half heartedly then the first, for with it was a painful acceptance which needed to be acknowledged. If the Commission had suspected she reassociated with Jadzia Dax they had now apparently dismissed it. It also seemed somehow that it meant she had to let go of what little memories she still carried about the whole Deep Space Nine incident, and that perhaps was her hardest task of all.
It was only in the presupposed shelter of Mila's home when conversation again resembled that of her two dependable friends. Corrin lay himself comfortably out the length of a three seated couch, his massive form sprawling over the sides and making his resting place appear dwarfed. He'd laid there cradling his Earth whiskey since retiring from the dining table, prattling on, as Mila called it, about everything that he hated about the Commission.
Lenara had taken up occupancy on a patch of floor covering enjoying a rare opportunity to sit cross legged. She was concentrating on her back posture preferring to invest her energy into her meditation techniques, rather than join in with Corrin's revised attack on the Commission. At least he was acting like his old self again. Her eyes shut, she was only half listening to her friends words. Mila and Corrin had become unsilencible over dinner, their individual realizations of the actual lengths the Commission were willing to go to still appeared to have them both in shock.
"Any higher setting and they would have burnt that young thing to a crisp." Mila muttered barely audible while she cleaned up the remnants of dinner around her guests. Her husband, who had sat through the chorus at the table politely excused himself and disappeared into the night. Lenara had watched him lovingly kiss Mila's cheek, holding her gaze with his own if only for a moment. She concluded Mila had kept none of their secret from him, and though he said nothing, she felt sure he would assist them if the opportunity arose.
Mila had spent her time at the Commission attempting to decipher the telemetry from the other girls autopsy, with startling results. Official reports said she had died of massive injuries sustained from an accidental fall. The body was actually burnt beyond identification, and it didn't take a genius to work out that they were phaser burns not impact fractures. She'd been shot, repeatedly at close range. Her symbiont, still inside her young body was unrecognizable, just a mass of seared flesh. Mila had never seen injuries quite like that before, not on another Trill, or in fact on a humanoid of any species. It made no sense, nor did the apparent need for the Commission to publicly lie about it.
Lenara told herself she was beyond the need to speak about the obvious horror taking place around them, almost anything was possible now. Though she recognized Mila's need to do so. It truly was horrible and it couldn't just be swept under the carpet. They had intentionally killed the first girl and were trying to turn the second, Dorian, into some kind of homing beacon. It wasn't unfathomable to predict that these girls were being used as test cases for something all joined Trills may some day have to endure. All to uphold some ridiculous assumption that attractions, or feelings could be dictated.
Mila continued to flutter about the room picking up and moving items, Lenara thought not unlike a hyperactive cleaning lady. Biting a blameless lip as she concentrated firmly on avoiding the inevitable. They had to do something to stop the tests.
"We can't just charge into any of this head on, its too dangerous. We have no real proof" growled Corrin, angry at his own truth.
"Nor can we respectfully sit here and do nothing."
Lenara climbed up, gently nudged his legs down to floor level and took up a seat on the commandeered couch.
"I didn't say we should do nothing."
"Then what?" she quizzed.
He couldn't answer that. Factually this was the Symbiosis Commission they were talking about taking on. Corrin loved a good argument as much as the next person, that was one thing. But what Lenara wanted, what they all knew needed to be done amounted to espionage.
Huddled together the three friends talked intently into the next morning. It reminded Lenara of their college days together, except this time there were no exams to cram for. It was a time well before she had received the Kahn symbiont, how differently she had thought then, without a worry in the world. Mila eventually would be the one to come up with a suitable plan, one that would put a stop to any further tests being performed on their young captive, but hopefully one that wouldn't directly implicate any of them.
Awakening.
Lenara walked as casually as her body would allow. Away from her office, past the central monitoring station and the junior members research cubicles. Delicate fingers were jammed deep into the front pockets of her examination coat, each hand hiding the necessary items for this journey. A journey short in reality, but one which was already feeling like an eternity.
She smiled pleasantly to those few technicians still working at this hour, terrified inwardly that she would not be able to contain her near brewing emotions, thus give herself away some how. Along the long corridor that connected quantum analysis with mechanics she continued, through the heat operated security doors to the quarantined medical facility.
With each carefully chosen step she suppressed the inward impulse to run, with each step she told herself that she was doing fine, not much further now, nearly there.
In the corner of the small cell Dorian Tor was lying on her side facing the wall. They had given her back her clothes. Lenara said a silent "thank you" to no one in particular. She made a brief scan of the security cameras, & simultaneously activated the fake holograph which would keep their meeting 'private'.
There was very little furniture in the room other than the tiny stretcher the girl occupied, a replicator panel on the adjacent wall blinked inactive. Lenara felt certain she was awake, must have heard her enter yet made no attempt to acknowledge her presence.
"I brought you something to eat"..........
Nothing. Ignoring the silence Lenara pulled the ration pack from the folds of her coat and placed it near the upper part of the young body. Then placing herself at the foot of the stretcher almost touching the girl, sensing the self preserving jerk from her, stifled by pride. She wished she could reach out and comfort her, had her hand in motion and drew it back to her lap.
"Why are you here?" It came out sounding more like a plea than a question.
"Please, I need to know the truth."
Silence prevailed. She wanted to abandon the visit, feeling perhaps she had made a mistake thinking this girl would want to tell her anything. She told herself 'just get up and leave Doctor, you shouldn't be here.' She had been making this up as she went along and she hadn't planned on Dorian not cooperating. An indifferent scolding was delivered to Corrin under her breath.
Surely this sort of sneaking around suited him better than her, he should be here, not her.
"The truth...." Dorian finally spoke but continued to face the wall. "Is your government, your precious Commission have been lying to every living creature on this planet."
"Excuse me?" not really knowing what else to say.
"You don't strike me as being obtuse Doctor Kahn?"
The girl rolled over to face Lenara, those vivid blue eyes locking on her own instantly, a flash of anamnesis and then nothing. Lenara wanted to move away, to somehow escape them, escape the liquid fire. Dorian stared deep, her young form stretching forward to sit a hairs breath from her. Lenara could feel her low respiring almost on her own lips.
She had to question her own motivation here, was she attracted to her? Was that it. A girl likely half her age? No it was beyond that, something much deeper than flesh and tissue. She was here to put an end to Dorian's incarceration, end the Commissions plans to tighten their hold on other joined Trills.
"What is it that you seek from me Doctor Kahn."
"I told you, the truth."
Dorian's laugh rattled down deep in her belly. A swift grasp of her wrist preventing Lenara from getting up from the tiny stretcher.
"Has the Commission taken me for a fool, that I would serenader my only weapon while still a prisoner?"
Exasperated "I have no wish to harm you Dorian. And I know nothing of any weapon"
Her belly laugh roared once again bothering Lenara beyond polite tolerance. She was trying to help the damn girl........perhaps the reports from the Commission were right, perhaps she was mad.
"If you have come to me for your answers, Doctor you have arrived too late. I have none to give you."
Both women's eyes focused on the trapped wrist in Dorian's grasp. Silence returned and the wrist was released without comment.
"There is a way out of here, I can show it to you. If you'll trust me."
"Why would you want to help me? Your trying to kill me, just as you killed Soanna." Lenara assumed Soanna was what Dorian called her dead lover.
"I had nothing to do with her death, Dorian. I assure you, I am trying to help you, and in turn help myself and others like me."
The young hand had moved back to touch Lenara, this time resting gently on her stomach wall that housed Kahn. She braced herself, fearing what would come next.
"You represent what so many of us who are joined fear." Lenara went on trying to ignore Dorian's latest gesture.
"And what is that?" murmured Dorian transfixed on the sensation under her own hand.
But Lenara didn't have an answer, not one she felt she wanted to share right now. She allowed her eyes to move back up to look directly at the young prisoner.
"There isn't much time."
Truths.
"Can you really walk away from me?.....from us?" Lenara sat up right in the middle of a disheveled bed. Momentarily disorientated.......
The dream had shaken her from sleep again. Her heart was racing somewhere up around her throat. Her body covered in a liberal coat of perspiration, matting her atypically free flowing hair to the sides of her head and creating a cling effect to her sleep wear.
A quick search, she could hear nothing other than her own labored breathing through out her home. Perhaps this time she had not woken Bazoal. Her brother's silent concern had brought him to stand at her bedroom door on more than one occasion. She had pretended it was simply a forgotten nightmare, which partly she told herself was true.
Lenara pushed the stray hair strands away from her face. But it had been the fourth of such dreams this month. Jadzia Dax standing before her pleading. The same words being spoken over and over again, the same agonizing expression.
In the beginning after her return to Trill Lenara had experienced an almost nightly onslaught of images, passionate, frightening, tender, all of Dax. Images from their brief time together on Deep Space Nine. She had accepted them into her night time ritual, viewing them as her own private punishment. Believing that though she had made the traditionally correct decision to return with Bazoal and Hunter Pren, she had also condemned herself to a similar existence as her predecessor, Nilani.
The dreams had dropped away slowly over time and she had felt a reprieve.
Lenara hadn't moved, sat waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of her room. Her time piece said 03:15 hours. Too early to rise for the day though she knew Dax's words had thrown away any chance of returning to sleep. Her breathing was returning to normal, and was about to lay herself back down when the shadow in the corner of her room moved.
"How did you get in here?" She questioned the figure, only partially managing to control her tone. Dorian looked exhausted, her clothes were torn. Lenara had seen the evening bulletin and wondered if she would come to her.
One level above a whisper, "You know they'll come here looking for you".
"There is no where else I could go Doctor, please."
Ignoring the girls plea. "How long have you been here, in my bedroom?"
"Only a short time, you were dreaming. Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes." Lenara pulled herself from her bed searching in the near darkness for her night gown.
"Gods know how you got in here without waking Bazoal."
Unease mapped Dorian's face, but the part of Lenara still recovering from being scared half to death at 3am wanted to tell her that it was far too late for embarrassment. Instead she'd have to store the thought away for now, knowing the girl had few options for sanctuary. Lenara dismissed her emerging grudge and motioned for her visitor to follow quietly.
"Computer, 15% illumination."
The dim light allowed them to maneuver around the tiny kitchen of her unit but would not she hoped disturb Bazoal. Lenara made two Tarkalean Tea, double sweet, trying to remember the last time she had a guest at this hour. She had to admit it had been some years since she had. But Dorian had a habit it seemed of getting her to behave in ways she'd never thought about before. She led the way to the back of her home through to her study, instructing the central computer to 'kill' the living area lights.
In the full illumination of her study she could finally take in her visitor's physical state. The girl looked half frozen. Lenara found a blanket, placed it over dirty trousers and turned up the heat. Dorian cradled her cup in her hands warming herself it seemed inside and out. She watched Lenara continue to move around the little room opening and shutting drawers finally apparently finding what she'd been looking for.
She handed Dorian the PADD. "I thought you'd want to see this."
It was from the history archives at the Symbiosis. The official report on the banishment of Tor and Grae, Lenara went on. "I did a size check on the original file, there's about 80% missing."
Dorian read on without raising her head, expressionless. Lenara was fidgeting again, this time at her main computer terminal. Punching commands right left and centre. She had hidden it amongst sub-routines and secondary pathways deep enough not to be retrieved by anyone other than herself. It would take awhile to upload the lengthy document so she waited patiently with one eye on the screen in front of her, the other searching for a signal on Dorian's mood. Finally a gentle motion of her right hand turned the blinking monitor to face the girl.
"What's that?"
"The other 80%." Lenara stated flatly.
Dorian moved up the couch to reach the rotated monitor dragging the blanket with her. She abandoned her half finished tea on the side table along with the hand PADD for now. Drawn into the vision in front of her, reading that which had only been other peoples memories to her before now. The original hosts of Tor and Grae faced her, images framed them in their youth, middle age and senior years. Their descendants and their descendants descendants, hundreds of faces of all ages. The second hosts, two young women too appeared photographed side by side. A black line appeared diagonally across their frozen expressions. Security warnings flashed off and on in short intervals with directions on how to access the extensive court proceedings attached to the file. The date on the final entry read 001963.
It took a little over an hour before Dorian had soaked up enough of the available data to satisfy her. She didn't know if Lenara had had the time to read the file herself, it didn't really matter if she had, there wasn't the time to debate of discuss it's contents with her. She hadn't broken into her home in the middle of the night to be further judged. Her trial and conviction occurred long ago.
Another defined stretch of her weary frame brought her to sit back on the couch. She swallowed hard the remaining substance in her cup, it had gone cold by now but it didn't appear to bother her, she'd had worse. Her body though that of a twenty four year old carried the memories of almost a millennium. Her mind tired easily, wondered and was melancholic at other times. This may be her last opportunity to share the truth about her and Grae's return to Trill with someone she could trust.
"We haven't much time Dr. Kahn."
Lenara nodded sensing the urgency in Dorian's voice. She positioned herself comfortably on the couch with her.
"Have you any idea what it's like to love someone for all your years? All your lives?" Lenara looked a her slowly registering the magnitude of her statement. Dorian continued on.
"Life time after life time.....between us we have transcended gender, age, illness, death..... it started that way long ago.....We had been married as the first hosts for Tor and Grae. Originally we thought, well this is our lives we were so lucky to have each other; had a full life together married for almost 70 years. Raised four children, played with our grandchildren and our great grandchildren, grown old gracefully and died within hours of one another ......."
Dorian was smiling to herself. "Then we met again, and it was like we were never apart...... We were banished when as new hosts we fell in love all over again."
Her private smile opened and was finally directed at Lenara, the older woman responded in kind indicating she understood far more than she was letting on. Dorian had made the right choice with this scientist, to confide in her. There was a deeper self to the Doctor, quite unexplored.
Part of her wished she had more time to get to know Dr. Lenara Kahn rather than simply use her to store the records of her own life. Dorian needed to entrust an immense amount of knowledge in the passing of a breath, information that would change Trill society irrevocably.
There wasn't time to find another, the older scientist would have to be her safe hands without the grace of a developed friendship. And so she went on;
"It was magical, we were young again. We both had female hosts, it was hard at first, new. Different!........ We knew full well the rules about reassociation, but thought, foolishly if we were just friends then the Commission would not object...... We tried to be simply that for almost six months. But it was impossible to look at one another as anything other than spouses...... She was my heart. I couldn't deny my feelings for her or she for me."
Then almost in a whisper. "I am not the first host after exile Dr Kahn, I am the 8th."
"You probably realize Tor and Grae were exiled over 500 years ago." The words hit Lenara like stone. Without question she knew Dorian was telling her the truth. The lies told to her belonged wholly with the Commission.
"We went to Dorbas 9, a small and remote Trill settlement 25 lightyears from here. Transports took a lot longer than, the journey I remember took months."
In the subsequent hours Dorian shared the entire story of her lives and the reason for her return. Lenara spellbound by it's intensity and richness sat as a prisoner to the story of the young woman. Listened while she weaved her words to sound like the actual silk of true romance. Something Lenara knew of only in the lost memories of Nilani, not touched on in this life time, feeling certain until now that she never would.
"We were both only in our mid second decade at the time, not much older than Dorian. Young and fit enough to survive the trip, but it was still difficult, we struggled to fit into an extremely hostile and backward community of mixed races, all themselves only beginning to settle there. Technology was limited, energy sources even more so. Some of the races held strange belief systems about same sex couples, especially female couples. Others about strangers, or those with pale skin. Other Trill though accepting of our relationship were resistant to associate with us because of we had been exiled.
"Over the years we all managed to get along somehow, more and more were settling there..... We tapped a energy source of Tellinite and Uranium and developed a pretty healthy relationship with the neighboring worlds. About 10 years after our arrival another exiled couple came. Followed by several others. Amongst the community we had come to believe as home we finally had something like family again.
"I suppose we became pretty much the elders amongst the other exiled Trills. We weren't necessarily the oldest but we'd been there the longest.
"We both held seats on the Joining Council, designed to continue the research of our species. It eventually had representation from all the Trill colonies on the Planet..... The original prejudice we had experienced dissipated with the passing years as we discovered we all had more to gain by working as a group then as adversaries to custom..... Grae worked at the medical facility to handle any symbiont related illnesses, by that time we had over 100 joined Trills residing amongst us so she was never short of someone to visit. But she had also been working on setting up a extended stasis field and other such equipment for emergencies. We were far from the home land and knew we would receive no support if tragedy were to strike us. Grae obsessed over the need to be self sufficient right down to preparing for death.
"About 5 years after the inception of the council, and the completion of the stasis program we made the most important discovery of our entire lives...... Two joined trills were killed in an excavation accident. Grae had no choice but to test a theory she had been exploring for over twenty years..... She removed the symbionts from our dead friends and placed them in stasis.
Lenara was one step a head of her. "She implanted the symbionts in new hosts?" Dorian nodded.
"We expected all sorts of difficulties, the most feared was rejection of the host....There were none, it was a complete success for both new hosts. We were all astounded.......It wasn't until death visited our little community again and the procedure needed to be repeated, that we realized the true implication of our discovery.... All the teachings around unsuitable host bodies had been a well fabricated deception, set up for Gods know what reason, it didn't matter why. Only that we the exiled for our inability to love as others would have us, were going to live on and on."
Lenara's confidence grew throughout Dorian's soliloquy enough for her to interrupt occasionally and ask questions. She was conscious as was Dorian of the rays from the morning sun commencing their arrival outside the window, and of the man who was sleeping only few meters away. They were running out of time and they hadn't even discussed a plan for Dorian's escape. But the story was in Dorian's own words, magical. Dorian had carried the Tor symbiont for a short four years. Soanna, who Dorian explained had arrived on Trill with her two weeks prior to Lenara and the other Ministry scientists being informed, had hosted Grae for the same time period.
Tor and Grae had remained spouses for the past 500 years. Generation after generation a suitable couple were mutually selected from their planets community to continue that relationship on with the passing of each hosts life span. In all incarnations the two had not existed without each other for more than a few short hours. That was until now. Dorian and Soanna were a couple married with children twice their age, borne from a male / female union before their own births. They had prepared from their early teens to carry the symbionts at the passing of the prior hosts. It was tradition, it was an honor. In fact in all ways excluding one becoming a host on Dorbas was identical to being one on Trill.
Lenara kept waiting for her own shock to set in, but it never arrived. Everything Dorian said made perfect sense to her, it was the natural progression of any marriage unlimited by death. Her society had condemned it, tried to hide it and would even try to kill it. But it still existed, in fact was thriving and all simply because it must. It was the what had been meant to occur all along, but some where some how a power shift happened and the symbionts lost their right and ability to communicate and defend their wishes. Prejudice had seeped into the two species relationship and new rules and a falsified history had been created to suit.
Their conversation lessened and long gaps in silence took hold, both women away in their own thoughts. Dorian in her grief of never being able to see her sweet Grae again, Lenara full of remorse for what might of been. It was as intimate as either could imagine, yet loneliness seemed to engulf them in hand. There had been a particularly lengthy silence when Dorian's mood seemed to shift elsewhere. It took Lenara a little by surprise, she was quite comfortable almost enjoying the self pity the atmosphere and topic had created. She allowed herself few opportunities to be quite this personally absorbed.
"Do you mind I ask you something now Doctor?" Lenara gave a minimal nod in agreement.
"When I was watching you earlier, you were dreaming?"
"Yes."
"You appeared distressed."
"Not exactly distressed, only....... It's a bit of a habit, the dream I mean. I keep having the same dream."
This was not really a discussion Lenara thought she would be having. The dream, like the self pity belonged to her and her alone. It was almost her right she thought at her age to have secrets. Even from those who would wish her no harm. Dorian above all would understand, yet still if she were to share it, it would escape her mind, become real and ultimately unobtainable. She wanted to keep it inside her, keep it precious no matter how much she knew she had to let go. It was after all, all she had.
"Repetitive dreams usually indicate unresolved issues."
"Yes I know." Lenara wondered if Dorian could read her embarrassment. Her clear desire not to continue.
"Will you deny yourself, even after what I have shared with you?"
Lenara's head snapped sideways taking in the somewhat remorseful expression on Dorian's face.
"You know then?"
The girl allowed herself a low chuckle. "Doctor I have lived several lifetimes beyond even your own. I could recognize love anywhere."
"It is impossible, I can't."
"Doctor, have you been listening to anything I have said this evening?" It was a sarcastic but playful dig. But her point was clear. All she had said would be of no purpose if those in Lenara's position still chose to hide away and deny what was so naturally right for them.
"Jadzia is a beautiful name." Dorian smiled gently. Those eyes are maddening Lenara decided, she wanted to reach over and cover them with her hand. Close the light behind them that seemed read her so completely.
Dorian was right, what had all she had endured and lost been for, what so many had lost, if not to free those who came after them.
**************
She reported to the commission that morning at 7 am as expected save raising further suspicions. Dorian had made her silent departure at sunrise transporting to the abandoned ministry storage containers. They agreed it was the safest option until Lenara could arrange to get Dorian off Trill. The Commission staff were a buzz with the news of the inmate escape and now delayed recapture. Lenara listened to the growing explanations being played out over the worlds news link, fictitious theories were being proposed on the reason why Dorian still hadn't rejected the 'stolen' symbiont. Predictions of her impending death from rejection were getting shorter and shorter. She was convinced she'd never believe another thing her government reported.
With A Little Help From My
Friends.
For six days and nights Lenara managed to successfully keep Dorian one step ahead of Trill Central Security. The young fugitive spent the daylight hours exploring foot ways and service channels in the abandoned waste deposal unit of the Science Ministry, meters from where Lenara conducted her research. It was a less than perfect way to spend her day, but it was the safest.
The unit which had ceased operating some years before was also considered low priority for the security details that patrolled government compounds and received only a skeleton troop to watch over it. Dorian began to predict and almost welcome their twice daily sweep of the deserted structure, giving her at least in part the illusion that she was not as totally alone as she felt. Time and more than a touch boredom had also propelled her to find herself a view point way above any normal range of vision in which to watch their practice drill. Admiring their youthful ignorance to a degree, and allowing the additional option to be the watcher instead of the watched.
Well after darkness had blanketed the Capital city she would catch site of the activation beacon on her portable transport device(P.T.D.), donated as Lenara put it, by the Commissions prototype lab. And soon after finding herself remateralizing in the Doctors home study. A light meal, a change of clothes and friendly and stimulating conversation would then ensue.
She never did get to meet the allusive Bazoal who Lenara spoke of constantly and with enormous pride. He had either retired before her arrival or opted to stay with his current love interest. On those occasions which occurred more than not, she was able to shower and walk freely around a fully illuminated unit. Also being invited to sleep next to Lenara instead of cramped up on the less than sufficient sofa space in the study.
Mostly, Dorian did not sleep, but lay next to her and watched the older woman rest. She listened to Lenara's words said in the deepest slumber to an absent lover. She wiped away with feather light fingers tears Lenara would not know had fallen. And marveled in the beauty of someone so similar to her own sweet Soanna it hurt.
When Lenara was unable to sleep they held each other in utter stillness and she amused herself with the thought of 'if only I were a few hundred years younger'. Lenara smiled back at her and as if reading her thoughts took her fully into her arms for comfort. Dorian spoke again of her children and grandchildren. Her need to get them a message about Soanna, to allow them their opportunity to morn as she was now doing. A message that for the most part her mission was complete and she had found a lighthouse in Doctor Lenara Kahn. She would be home as soon as possible.
A pattern of secret cohabitation formed easily between the two. Even on the nights where Bazoal had stayed in and retired to his own sleeping quarters, Lenara would wait to share a meal with Dorian instead of allowing her to eat alone. Dorian entertained them both by trying on some of Lenara's more traditional gowns and managed to finally drop 'Doctor' as her only personal reference for her new friend. Lenara let herself admit, if not out loud that she was loving every moment of Dorian's presence as stow away in her home.
Officially she had been relieved from her duties at the Symbiosis Commission, being told that the tests were no longer viable and therefore would be discontinued. Corrin and Mila too returned to their posts at the Ministry with her and continued to play their role in keeping Dorian's whereabouts hidden. Corrin through attempting to secure passage on transport complete with a new identity. He had also called in a few old favors ensuring at least a verbal message would be carried to Dorian's kin. Mila was working her way through the reams of security transmissions related to the apparent scaled down search for their fugitive.
Still not trusting the electronic arm of Renhol and other S.C. members, they spoke little outside their coded dialogue. But maintained hourly contacts through a subroutine Lenara had dreamed up for the occasion and nicknamed 'evasive maneuvers.' Lenara thought she was getting quite good at all this spy behavior, refusing to believe that she was endangering her people but actually trying to save them, even if it was from their own shortsightedness.
They had all participated in Dorian's escape from the clutches of the Commission and its hypocrisy, and agreed that until she was safely off Trill there was joint responsibility for her well being. Each day brought them closer to believing their plan would succeed and the girl would be able to leave.
But a little after the noon day meal on the seventh day of Dorian's evasion, Mila intercepted a sighting report through Central Security's communication channel. A Trill female fitting the escapee's description had been seen in Sector 4. Troops were being deployed to investigate.
Without missing a beat Mila encrypted the details of the sighting and punched up Lenara's personal access devise on her own computer screen. Downloading the information along with a brief wish for success and resuming her routine program took but a moment. She didn't wait to see if Lenara responded to the message, there wasn't time. Breakneck fingers were erasing document after document in the individual data base in front of her. This was it, they had found her. Sector 4 was the off limits waste disposal unit behind the main Ministry building. Any shred of evidence related to Dorian found in her possession would mean certain exile for them all.
Lenara was on her own this time. Mila told her conscience she had done her bit but now it was every Trill for themselves.
Sitting some levels below where the message had originated from, Lenara was indeed alone. But only out of choice, she had slammed her office door shut in haste dismissing the possibility of any attention it might have drawn and was frantically deleting her own main drive. She gave herself 60 seconds to set up the 'dump' code and get down to the ground floor that would take her to the rear of the Ministry.
A free hand fumbled for control over the P.T.D. she carried that connected her to Dorian. Failing to establishing an immediate lock that would transport her young friend directly to her home coordinates, she pulled the tiny mechanism from the safety of her coat pocket and took a closer look. The damn thing had ceased to transmit a signal, she couldn't get a lock or Dorian had moved foolishly out of the designated signal area. Several unfamiliar profanities escaped her tender lips. Losing patience and losing time she threw the faulty piece into a open drawer of her desk and kicked it shut.
Her monitor screen blinked once and went off, the deletion program was complete. All that remained now of her involvement with the fugitive was her personal records stored deep in her own home system. Sensibility assured her they were virtually impenetrable but it didn't quell her fears entirely. They would have to wait. She needed to find Dorian before the security patrols did.
One final gaze of her office was taken in as Lenara cleared a path way to the door, opening the momentary protection that it provided she was out and into the corridor that would take her downstairs.
She had negotiated more than half the short distance she needed to cover to be outside the Ministry before she realized she was running.
The Promise
Dorian was cornered, her last turn had taken them down behind the external wall of the waste disposal unit. A maze of twists and turns leading to a narrowing ally, and finally a dead end, no where else to go.
Lenara heard the thunder of foot steps as the security detail came up quickly behind her. Within seconds it seemed they were upon the two women, all she noted were all uncharacteristically armed with assault riffles and long range phasers. But the detail passed Lenara by, continuing to approach the cornered woman.
She was manic, her eyes darted back and forth between Lenara and the security detail, searching for an escape route. In an instant the Captain broke ranks and seized her in one closed fist. The very force snatching her off the ground like a small animal. Scowling at her in obvious malevolence he retreated back out of the dead end maintaining his grip and allowing only the tips of her boots to scuff along the cemented corridor. Not sanctioning their full contact with the ground.
Dorian took a solid jab wildly at him and another, throwing her full weight into each strike.
He made no direct acknowledgment of her actions, simply barking orders at his troupe to fall back, to resume there march order.
Lenara followed them back along the alley way, the soldiers surrounding their leader and Dorian, their shear mass making it increasingly difficult for her to keep Dorian in view. As they neared a more populated part of the complex no one said a word, only closing ranks further around their captive. It appeared they were ignoring Lenara accept to direct her to get out of their way.
"There she is." someone called out from a forming crowd. Lenara heard the mummers of endless questions being asked and discussed amongst the group made up mainly of construction worker's returning from the mid day break.
Soldiers from another detail had joined the arresting troupe, falling into an orderly rank. Dorian was boxed in by the anthropomorphic fortress of no less than twenty black uniforms.
Lenara's alarm bells were going crazy. They were going the wrong way. Weren't they taking Dorian to the Central Security Headquarters. Wasn't she under arrest? This was a police matter, surely the Commission had no jurisdiction here. Her head was spinning, she never considered fearing the security details before. The Trill Home world had little need for a strong military face, her people always being powerful upholders of non-aggression and community cooperation. Security details were for off world visitors not their own people. But then again Dorian wasn't one of them. She was a Trill, a joined Trill, but to everyone here she was still a stranger. A criminal. A threat.
One of the soldiers had fallen back and was walking beside Lenara as she struggled to keep up with their pace. A stern faced boy perhaps half her age, but somehow intimidating and robust in his uniform was shouting at her.
"You have no need to follow Dr Kahn, we'll take the prisoner from here." She didn't want to know how he knew her. He was saying something about being interviewed later if need be. She was being dismissed. Warned off.
As they approached the gates of the Commission's grounds, Dorian's struggle was increasing. She hadn't stopped trying to break free from the Captain since he had grabbed her. And finally it seemed her kicking and punching was getting the better of him. Through the wall of bodies, Lenara could see the young woman's legs striking out connecting at a deadly rate. Other soldiers were buckling over from her blows. She had broken free of the grasp and was making her final bid at freedom.
Lenara watched motionless, in her heart she desperately wanting to aid in her escape. There were too many of them. She sensed their willing to fire on the girl if need be, perhaps even on herself. Too many spectators gathering again from the street. Surely they wouldn't?..... not here? She stood less than fifty meters from the centre of this battle but could do nothing.
The troops had slackened their circle around Dorian and the Captain, widening her barriers but keeping her firmly fenced in, they all including Dorian appeared to be tiring of the to and throwing, this battle of wills. Still none of the last few days, none of the shattering of beliefs about her culture or her people prepared Lenara to bare witness to this.
A gap in the military wall appeared and within a millisecond Dorian had breached it. She was in mid stride when the sound of a phaser reached Lenara's ears. They all moved towards the shot, security details, Lenara, the gathering crowd. A circle of bodies, Dorian was on the ground, the captain's phaser taking her down at her knees. She was screaming, thrashing about with the pain, grasping at her wound in disbelief, in shock and in fear.
An arm cut Lenara off as she attempted to move in closer to her. It was the stern faced boy, she caught his almost gleeful face in the frenzy. Was this why he joined the military; to gun down innocents, she fumed wanting to strike him herself.
Soldiers were dispersing the crowd, holding weapons in a ready position, gesturing the enraptured group to move along. The sound of voices barking orders and work boots on walk ways crossed over, faded and disappeared within moments. Lenara too stunned, or beyond fear of retribution remained.
The captain again had Dorian by her shirt collar, pulling her to her natural height, holding her firm. Her left leg was lifeless, eyes pierced Lenara's in desperation.
Lenara was still trying to move beyond the boy, he had not yet physically restrained her, his very size anchoring her to her spot.
And then, if in slow motion the Captain raised his phaser once more.
Dorian was sobbing looking pathetically insignificant against him, she continued to hold her wounded leg, Lenara thought not dissimilar to a small child confused and bleeding from a playground fall.
Lenara couldn't cry, she was trying desperately to but no sound came out. She attempted again to move forward but was frozen.
The Captain was shouting for Dorian to stand up, striking her in the face once with the back of his weapon. She refused or didn't understand, Lenara really wasn't sure which. But he held the phaser to her stomach continuing to demand that she stand.
Dorian hadn't taken her eyes from Lenara, she was saying something to her but the mix of the vomiting drool and blood made any speech incoherent. Lenara had to move. She would have to let the boy strike her too if need be, she had to decipher Dorian's words. Her feet moved slowly, heavy, feeling the weight of her years being carried with the movement, she had gone beyond disbelief and moved to her own truth.
They let her enter the circle of black uniforms and guns, let her walk in front of them to join what was the hunter and the hounded. She stopped no more than two bodies length from Dorian and the Captain, it was almost intimate. She continued her eye contact with Dorian fearing to break the link between them, acutely aware it was her only available offering of solace. She felt like she may be sick.
Dorian was frothing at the mouth, her leg wound had left bare muscle exposed, she was writhing in shock beyond salvation and yet somehow lucid in her thoughts. A strange sense of finality was claiming her and she knew it. This time was her time, there would be no other. Yet for Lenara time seemed delayed, counted at a different level, she was aware of every movement, every sound, she knew too she was watching death..
The Phaser blast blew Dorian's stomach cavity open, blood hit Lenara where she stood. Dorian's screaming had become an animalistic moan, she was on her knees, still being held by her collar, though she was no longer going to run anyway.
Lenara joined her on her knees well-nigh in prayer. Eyes locked frozen.
"Promise me." blood flowed uncontrollably from the young woman's mouth. She was drowning, Lenara was nodding. Her tears finally allowing her some protection from her own pain.
"Promise me you'll go ......"
The third and final shot took out the left side of her skull.
Lenara threw up.
Escape
They had been watching her for weeks. Not overtly, not continually, just routine visits to the Ministry. Casual questions sounding her out, testing her reactions, her general emotional state.
Mila and Corrin along with several others involved in the project and their entire families had disappeared. The official story had been that they'd been given promotional postings off the home world. At least that's what Central Security kept telling her. Lenara also knew that neither of her friends had intentions of staying on Trill now. They were talking of settling on Cestes 3, Amino Prime or Earth, anywhere far enough away from the Symbiosis Commissions control. Corrin's oldest daughter was to have been selected as an initiate, but suddenly and without explanation had declined the honor.
The Commission had let them leave it seemed. Every part of her that still had any sort of hope for her people wanted to believe that was the case. They had simply left. But she also knew they would never have just packed up everything the had in the world and vanished without saying goodbye.
For Lenara, the one left behind there appeared to be special attention. The covert surveillance blanketed in additional research aid being awarded her was little more than house arrest. Was this how was going to be now, forever under their gaze?
The Symbiosis' final bid had been her honory associate professorship to the Commission, given in appreciation for her work on the development of the tracking probes. She would have to live with it she thought. Her work deserved reward she accepted that but she took no pleasure in knowing it had been manipulated in an attempt to bring oppression back to her people.
Her brother like countless others remained blissfully in the dark regarding Dorian Tor and Soanna Grae's arrival on Trill and their ultimate murders. It was as if they had never existed to anyone but her. Lenara hoped, perhaps foolishly what Bazoal didn't know couldn't harm him and so she stayed silent. She on the other hand had harbored the surviving fugitive for almost a week after their initial capture. Conspired in her escape from Trill authorities and hidden her under the very roof she shared with him. Ignorance was never going to be a possibility for her again.
And then there had been the promise. Words spoken by the dying young woman, desperate to hold onto to life, to hear her pledge. She hadn't needed to make her promise, Lenara had made up her mind what she needed to do. Had decided it the night Dorian shared the reason for her return to Trill.
She had asked Dorian why she would risk her life, the life of her eternal spouse to bring a message of truth to complete strangers. Dorian had sat quietly for a moment after that, pondering Lenara thought some priceless piece of wisdom. Her reply was so simple and so unquestioningly true, that it was in the end Lenara who was left speechless. Dorian replied without a hint of melancholy, anger or pride: "I do what I do for the million's who can't. Because those of us who can make change, must make change. Otherwise I ask you, what are our lives for?"
Three weeks after her death, Lenara finally got up enough courage to follow through with the promise. Moving cautiously to start, she accessed the off world data link for all Federation Space Stations, feigning a special interest in the furtherest positioned station in the Alpha quadrant. Her previous research on artificial worm holes assisted in an easy clearance at the universal security port, and she was granted complete access for all available Deep Space Nine and surrounding federation space files. A few days later when she thought she had convincingly appeared to have exhausted the first file transfer, she selected all relevant data bases on the stations Worm Hole and downloaded it, this time to her home computer. Again waiting a seemingly practical time period, she requested what she had truly been searching for; listings of station news and current inhabitants.
The records held only mild encouragement, she had hoped to find some hint of Jadzia, her activities, her achievements since they had parted. But realistically she knew anything of real value to her would only be found in the crew personal logs. And though a genius by any ones standards she wasn't capable of breaking in to them. Not yet. What news there was was largely political reports about the Cadassian and Klingon war, a little about Dominion activity and some general travelers information. Station inhabitant's records listed Lt. Commander Jadzia Dax as a Star Fleet Officer stationed aboard DS9 for the past five years but that was all. Other than that, the closest thing to personal on anyone was a birth announcement to the Terrain couple Miles and Keiko O'Brien. There was the winner of the junior Tai Chi Twon tournament and the latest available holosuite programs from Quarks Bar.... It wasn't much but it was all she had for now.
Finally as her other preparations to leave were all but finalized, she contacted Major Kira Nyres, second in command of Deep Space Nine and one of Dax's closed friends. It had been difficult, the Major though friendly and cooperative asked too many questions. She asked for Kira's word not to relay their conversation to anyone on the station, least of all Dax herself. Her parting offer to the major was a solemn promise that if she would help her, an explanation would be given in due time.
It took a few days more to arrange transport going to the actual station, and tie up any loose ends she had at the Science Ministry. It was obvious she wasn't just going on a working holiday, that she was actually preparing to leave her life on Trill behind. But if Central Security or the Symbiosis Commission were aware of it, nothing was said.
Bazoal, nervous at the best of times was having a kitten. If others were buying the facade of Lenara taking a short trip back to the DS9 worm hole to reevaluate telemetry from the original tests, he was not. She wanted to explain, tell him anything. But anything she could say would come out sounding like a lie. He assumed, and she chose not to argue the point, that she had decided to accept Dax's previous offer of a life together. His conservative upbringing preventing an outright confrontation between the two. But his censure was only partially disguised. It made little difference in his eyes, why she was going. Her actions said she was thumbing her nose to their beliefs, throwing away years of work and public recognition for something as fragile as love. She had lived without a spouse all her life, she had him, friends, her career. What did she expect people would think of her now? What would his friends think of him for permitting such a move.
Lenara had listened silently to his words, all apparently said out of concern for her well being. She had nodded appropriately and feigned remorse where it seemed to suit. But if he knew her at all, surely too he knew that her decisions were never made without extreme contemplation, a total weighing up of all possible options, and finally when all was said and done. She could not be swayed from a decision once made, not even by him.
DS9 Star Date: 59151.9 Continued
".........So there you have it, Major." she concluded, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "The real reason for my absolute need of secrecy."
They had placed themselves in Lenara's newly assigned bedroom. Kira sitting crossed legged on the bed watching and listening, as the Professor, while actively involved in finding just the right place for her personal items, recounted the events of the past three months.
No sooner had the older woman's voice been found after an initial shaky start, and a tidal wave of facts, names and places unknown to Kira were spilled out. At first Kira chose not to interrupt the steady and unwavering flow of dialogue, allowing Lenara the opportunity to shed what in part also seemed to include an element of survivors guilt. Guilt of living when Dorian had not. Kira knew first hand about the sensation from her days with the resistance. She also knew that the only real treatment, or chance of recovery for the sufferer was to be able to express it, and time......lots of time.
Low and purposeful, Lenara's words continued for well neigh two hours painting a picture of intrigue and deception, drawing Kira equally into the story like a silken web. The momentum in Kira's mind increased with more and more questions finally being aired and between they had built up a sense of comfort in sharing their own perceptions of the why's where's and how's.
Finally Kira asked the one question that had troubled her from the onset of the fuller picture of events.
"Is there any chance they'll come after you, pursue you to Deep Space Nine?"
"To be honest, I really don't know."
Silence engulfed them for the first time since Lenara had let her words flow like a broken dam. Studying each other and allowing the thought to be fully digested and then put aside. Lenara was safe for the time being at least. The possibility of Trill authorities following her here would need to be addressed, but not now. Now was a time to relax, if possible only for a moment, recover and be reunited.
"You know what's funny Major?" She had taken up a piece of bed space next to Kira.
"What's that?"
"Now that I'm here, I don't know how to proceed."
"What do you want to do, Lenara?"
There was another hint of a smile finally, remnants of her earlier tears were completely gone.
"After Dorian's death, all my thoughts," and now an open if not slightly disconcerting grin.. ".......went into getting here," she began to fidget with the piece of clothing she had been trying to find a home for, it was easier to focus on it for the time being.
"All I've thought about was getting away and coming here, Gods I lay awake night after night trying to forget her for months before I realized, accepted.....I couldn't"
Kira wasn't sure this was the right time to say it, but she knew that the mission she'd dreamed up to get Dax away from the station would surely be drawing to an end. She knew Dax would come looking for her to give her report, and she would expect her to be waiting.
The Major subconsciously massaged her forehead, the stress of the days events building up around her eyes. It wasn't that she personally held any misgivings about assisting Lenara to be here. She wasn't a Trill. In fact the truth be told Kira thought their prejudice around reassociation cruel and petty even before Lenara had disclosed recent events. It seemed obvious to her and anyone else on the station that had seen the pair together on Lenara's initial visit that she and Dax had a force stronger than any old Trill taboo working with them. Kira didn't need to convince herself that her actions to help were ethically grounded. What remained however was the actual practicalities to reconcile the two to their rightful places, at each others side. Dax so far wasn't helping..... '
I can't believe I couldn't come up with something more original than a particle specimen search' she told herself.
".......Tell me Major, how has she been.....emotionally I mean?"
Kira wasn't sure how she should respond, instantly sensing Lenara had wanted to ask something very different. It was clear she wanted to know if she had traveled over two thirds of the Alpha quadrant risking her life to be welcomed or ignored by Jadzia Dax.......
Kira stalled, of all the questions to ask now!
'Don't go there yet.' she mutely signaled Lenara. 'Its not my territory.'
A debate had started in Kira's head. Should she say she thought her friend's heart would break in those first few months after Lenara had left. That she could not attest to Dax's state of mind. Dax had returned to work immediately after the Trill Science Teams departure. But she looked and acted like one of the Bajoran undead Kira had been warned against as a child. Like someone possessed, Dax not only returned to her duties, but was quite often seen pulling double and sometimes triple shifts.
Or to the other extreme Dax had spent much of the last year in and out of bed with more lovers than a Darbo Girl. In fact there had been one Darbo girl in particular that had become a regular companion for Dax again.
The Dax Lenara had chosen to say goodbye to seemed to disappear off the station around the same time as she returned to Trill. She was replaced by someone Kira didn't know. Someone she had trouble relating to for the most part.
Kira had glanced every piece of furniture more than twice before she was able to release the strangled feeling in her throat.
".....She has behaved pretty much as you would expect Dax to behave Professor........ as angry as a Klingon Targ on the good days." Her self conscious grin did nothing to relieve the blank expression covering Lenara's face. She hadn't said it right,
Gods now what?
Kira looked away and began examining a Cadassian lamp on the bed side table unsure of where the conversation was leading. Lenara shut her eyes briefly, Kira heard the gentle sigh and held her own breath.
"If you're trying to be polite Major, there really is no need."
Kira continued to study the lamp.
"You seem to forget, Dax and I were married.......... If you tell me her nights are...... occupied, I'm neither upset of surprised. My visit last year gave us a few short days to recapture a life once stolen. I chose to leave when she had offered me her heart." Lenara trailed off, contemplative for a moment.
"No matter what the circumstances, Dax was never a ....." she couldn't quite remember the Bajorin equivalent for a cloistered priest.
"Vedek." Kira assisted catching her train of thought and gambling she added.
"Except, Bajoran's don't expect or require our religious leader's to remain celibent." Their eyes met once more and the two women burst into embarrassed but infectious laughter.
Dax
Worm hole activity was noted at Station Operations by Chief Miles O'Brien. A fleeting scan of the navigational controls in front of him confirmed it in fact marked the return of one slightly over due shuttle, and its pilot. A more characteristic smirk finally replaced the blunted expression the non commissioned officer had worn for the better part of his shift.
Moments later came the signal.
"Rio Grande to Deep Space Nine"
Jadzia Dax appeared beaming, covering the amplitude of the view screen.
"You've been cleared for Docking Bay 9 Commander." Came an almost robotic response and then as an after thought, he added. "Up for a game of darts tonight?" O'Brien could hear her chuckle seconds before she spoke.
"Always trying to get even, Chief. You know there's no point."
He forgave her momentary loss of humility, choosing not to retort and tapped in the necessary clearance codes for her approach. Dax remained the stations darts champion after fifteen consecutive matches. She was also leading by over a hundred strips of latinum on the Tongo wheel and was still unbeaten at racquet ball. Dax wondered why they all kept trying to challenge her, she'd had several life times to perfect her favorite pass times and many more and though there was a certain sense of satisfaction when she downed yet another opponent, her victories became more and more hollow.
The fact was her only real challenge at all came from Worf in hand to hand combat. She secretly liked that, it was good to lose sometimes, good for keeping her more than healthy ego in its place and good for reminding others she was at least partially obtainable.
"A man's got a right." O'Brien gently reminded her returning the smile. "......I'll see you in a few minutes."
Dax signed off, and engaged the automatic docking controls for Rio Grande's final descent to DS9. It took no more than the time O'Brien had offered to complete the necessary procedures to have her and the small craft safely locked down and her on her way to report her missions results.
In no particular hurry to have her official duties over for the day, she chose to take the extended route to the central operation's base and hopefully along the way find a willing partner for dinner.
Dax casually strolled the promenade, hands clasps gently behind her back, an approachable smile fixed to her face. The practiced mask of approachability had always made her a welcome presence to the station's inhabitants. In the five years since her arrival she gained the trust and friendship of many of her Federation and Bajorin colleagues. But today she used the familiar stroll to test her own reserve.
Annoyance crept quietly across the perfectly positioned shoulder blades of her form. Weight of the emptiness of her night ahead registering on cue and in turn she responded to it by physical resistance, further straightening her already towering figure. Her stride lengthened as she collected pace along the lower level walkway, passing Garek's couturier and the Bajoran cosmetic counter. Both proprietors bidding her a pleasant evening as she went.
She stopped momentarily to sample the Risian perfume from the tiny booth. It was secretly another test for the Commander, to desensitize herself to the scent. The elderly counter operator thought nothing of the frequent habit she observed from the beautiful Trill. Knowing that though Dax would visit two to three times a week to smell the delicate fragrance. She'd only managed to secure one purchase of the bottle to the impassioned patron and that was the better part of a year ago.
Dax's arrival at Ops a few minutes on, found only O'Brien and one of the newly transferred ensigns straight from Academy graduation to greet her. Major Kira was no where to be seen there, or her temporary posting of Benjamin's Sisko's office.
O'Brien was no better informed when it came to locating Kira's exact location and that did seem strange. Dax wouldn't usually bother too much about it, she and Kira could go all day rattling around the huge station without running into each other. But her proxy commanding officer had been so insistent earlier in the day that the tests couldn't wait, and that only she had the necessary skills to obtain the correct samples. At the time Dax thought the statement half way to ridiculous. Both women knowing full well a first year cadet could complete the mission with their eyes shut.......Dax hadn't wanted to say it earlier either, but it was as clear as the spots on her forehead that Kira was up to something. Something that Dax wasn't going to be privy to.
She stayed loitering around Ops sparring with O'Brien and Ensign Malign for over an hour about their last big loss to her at Tongo Wheel. Filling in time until she officially finished her shift. She was stalling, not wanting to leave the familiarity of her workplace. The reoccurring day dreams and sleep deprived nights thinking about what might have between herself and Lenara were back up at an all time high. It was almost as she could feel her presence again. Wanted to feel her presence again. And that made her as mad as any Nausicaan with a hang over.
She toyed with the idea of joining Worf in one of her holosuite exercise programs. Thinking it would perhaps relieve at least some of the built up tension around the back of her neck. She was actively massaging the protesting knots when another option presented itself to her by way of an ache elsewhere.
Staying a little longer than her actual shift and with still no sign of Kira, Dax agreed to take both men up on their grudge match on their next shared day off and headed for the one place that offered at least a transient distraction.
******************************
Quarks bar was packed to over flowing. Conversation, emotions and alcohol entwined themselves in large quantities through out the crowd. Dax caught the tiny Ferengi's eye as she entered the concourse and was immediately summoned to join him at the bar where he stood polishing glasses.
"I was wondering when I would see you back here again," he was almost shouting, trying to compete with the noise. "Going to return my Latinum tonight Commander?" Dax returned a playful smirk. The Ferengi had been partly right, money needed to be exchanged, but it wasn't table games she had come to play this evening.
"Balarian Gin." She pronounced in her best Ferengi accent and motioned to the only vacant table on the upper floor.
Quark watched Dax climb the steps to her chosen seat, giving her order to Leeta to deliver personally. He considered himself no fool regarding the nature of the Commander's visit and dispensed with any unnecessary instructions to the Darbo Girl. He punched up the holosuite booking records on the bar computer reserving the suite he knew would be required.
Then rubbing his already overly sensitive right earlobe, he strained to hear the pending exchange between the two women.
"Anything else I can get you?" Leeta smiled knowingly and placed the near full metallic mug in front of her sometime lover. It had been several days since she had seen the exquisite Commander and the anticipation surrounding her arrival was obvious to anyone who was bothering to look. Dax was massaging the inside of the standing woman's calf muscle with the front of her boot, a non-committal expression covering her face.
"Join me." she instructed without loosing a beat. Leeta moved closer into the Commanders reach. She had become quite used to it as had the other patrons of Dax's public flirting, what would be the first of many rituals into the night.
Across the bar table Dax held the recently delivered mug in one hand, raising it gently to her lips, brilliant blue eyes looked over it. Her other hand had worked its way under the surface and was resting motionless on Leeta's thigh. A twinkle of an eye and the briefest creasing of Dax's spots from tension along her neck told Leeta the familiar game had begun. Dax would sip the fiery contents of her cup, taking her time to savor its taste and what her hand now openly explored. There was no hurry after all, neither was going any place, at least not any place that didn't involve the other.
********************
No sooner had the holosuite program started and Dax had them sitting in the centre of the Klingon styled bed unceremoniously removing her blouse. It was her favorite scenario, dark, tense, charged, fitting to the mood that prevailed.
Leeta smiled tranquilly to herself. She loved being the centre of Dax's attention, especially like this.
She thought momentarily of putting up some sort of token protest to her lover's apparent lack of foreplay. Dax usually liked the struggle. But somewhere, somehow this had become way too easy. Leeta needed the Commander to at least act a little like she was what she truly wanted, rather then just an additional variable in some holosuite program. She knew also that would be pointless, Dax wanted her but she did not and would never love her. The fact that she was the most requested of all Quarks girls would have to do. She was here wasn't she? Wasn't that all that really mattered?
She had not seen the gentler side to her lover for several weeks, & seriously wondered if she would again.
Dax's ragged breathing increasingly overlapped her own. It was a familiar sound, a signal that this encounter would be brief. Dax would require little more of her then to be there with her. But Leeta knew Dax would take to her to the prophets, and she would go willingly.
Announcements
Hands positioned flat, Dax leaned back against them and her quarter's doors as they sealed behind her. A sigh of relief escaped into the silence of the darkened tomb.
She was alone, acutely aware of the vacuity before her.
Privacy had become all but essential after spending time with Leeta. It was ritualistic now, and yet she wondered if in fact it only served to hide her guilt. A sad yet honest smile said it didn't matter, she had worked up an appetite and needed to eat.
"Computer. Full illumination."
"Gagh, blood wine, mo'ba fruit. Room temperature." She instructed the replicator as she passed it. She'd shower, have some dinner and get an early night for a change.
There were no messages for her which didn't exactly bother her but it did seem a little odd, though then again not as odd as Kira's behavior earlier that evening. They'd run into each other quite by accident as Dax was leaving Quarks. Dax had found her friend distracted, bordering on uninterested. She agreed that particle sample reports weren't anything to write home about, but even feigned interest wouldn't have hurt. Especially since Kira implied the urgency of it hours before.
She'd hoped they could have had dinner, catch up a little. She'd sensed their relationship was showing signs of strain and didn't want the apparent gap getting any wider. Kira didn't approve and was genuinely concerned about the apparent changes to her personality. She knew also that the disapproval unfortunately extended to her relationship with Leeta. She loved Kira, but she was growing weary of the Bajoran's somewhat prudent perception of how she should be conducting her private life. "Hmmm.........." It would have to wait.......
She placed the plates of Klingon and Bajoran delicacies and half filled goblet of wine on the dining room table and commenced stripping off her uniform. A shower would be good, she would wash her hair, eat, then curl up with a good book.
She hadn't heard her door chime over the sound of the running water. Hadn't heard Kira over ride the security lock. They met in her lounge room, Dax half dressed, her breasts barely covered by a loosely secured bathrobe, her face hidden under a towel.
"I let myself in" Kira apologized on eye contact. "You didn't answer."
A mildly startled Dax nodded and continued to rub at her damp shoulder length hair. ".......Change your mind about dinner?"
Kira glanced at the plates of barely moving food on the table and politely said. "No."
An awkward moment of silence arose between them.
"I actually have something I need to speak to you about." The Major hastily offered. Dax nodded accepting the explanation, then wrapping her uncommonly loose hair up high in the draped towel.
"Sounds important," she characteristically beamed, refastening her robe to a more presentable state. Kira loved her friend's smile, she felt it had been seen too infrequently this last year. But she also knew it was laced with the mischief of someone who just got their own way.
Expectantly Dax placed herself in front of the semi conscious meal at the table and commenced feeding the well earned hunger she'd worked up at Quarks. Kira casually moved around the spaciously designed living area, touching various objects that belonged to the Trill and attempting to avoid actually sighting Dax devour her dinner. There was plenty of distractions really, objects collected through an extended life that reflected both the host and the symbiont. Kira never got tired of viewing them, they said so much about Dax. Perhaps more about the old Dax then the recent impostor, but still she reminded herself. That was about to change.
A meter length Bat'leeth was mounted above an ancient side table off to the right of where she had finally stopped. It was Dax's most prized possession, and the deadliest of all hand to hand combat weapons. As deadly as its owner she'd heard Worf say once. A paper book rested on the 21st century table top, open at it's middle. One of the pages depicted writing illegible to Kira. Dax had told her it was a dead Terran language called Arabic, the other a faded picture of a bearded man in a strange colorless gown. He was apparently Dax's favorite poet.
"I wasn't sure if you were going to be....by yourself."
Dax reminded herself Kira's fragile attempt at diplomacy was more about discomfort, but decided not to make a point of tonight. She could spend all her waking hours if she so chose, encouraging the Major to lighten up and stop taking everything so seriously.
A particularly lively piece of the Klingon fare slid down her throat when it almost choked her. An image of Kira punching out a fictional, but married holosuite character recently flashed in her head. His crime, it seemed was he'd attempted to kiss her. Her eyes rolled upward in playful disgust as she managed to swallow the snake like substance finally.
"I am alone." Dax interrupted her friends gaz