CHAPTER IV. THE WEIGHT OF REASSOCIATION

The next day, Drenkteg’s mother was escorted to the Infirmary by a security officer belonging to the company stationed on Deep Space 9, clearly in a state of shock after receiving the devastating news of her husband’s death and the risk her only son was in.

Next to what must have been the Chief Medical Officer’s office, a pair of Starfleet officers flanked Drenkteg, pale and worn from his traumatic experience aboard the Hikawa Maru, but otherwise apparently healthy. The boy, who up to that point had remained close to the young woman in the red uniform, ran towards his mother with outstretched arms, ready to be picked up by the woman, who held him close, crying with relief and immense pain.

«Well,» grumbled Ferrari, intending not to be heard by anyone except Dr. Bashir, still at her side. «That settles it once and for all. Doctor…» she smiled furtively at him, clear intent to leave the Infirmary by stealth, «…it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but…I really must be going.» She had hoped in vain, all things considered, taking a few steps to discreetly leave the Sickbay, before she found herself confronted by mother and son, disentangled from their previous embrace and waiting for the two humans to conclude their subdued conversation.

«Yes?» Ferrari looked at them puzzled for a moment, certainly not expecting to see them still there, but rather heading towards the woman’s assigned quarters or, alternatively, heading for the first transport bound for Bajor. «I wanted to thank you – both of you – for what you did for my son. I really don’t know what I would have done if I had lost him too.» The look she gave her son said it all, as did the smile, which stretched his face painstakingly, spoke more than anything she could say: they were going to have a tough time ahead of them.

Ferrari gave her an encouraging smile, before crouching down at the same level as Drenkteg: «Everything will be fine, Drenkteg, okay?» The two exchanged a quick hug, then turned to his mother: «If he is safe and sound, he owes it to his father, who protected him at the cost of his life, and to Dr. Kahn, who put not only her life, but also that of her own symbiont, at risk.»

The Ktarian woman tried to compose herself, although the effort was clearly immense: «Can we see her?» Dr. Bashir nodded: «I will accompany you, but I need you to be very quiet: she is still unconscious, it will take time for her to fully recover, we have undertaken a demanding procedure. It would be best not to disturb her rest and recovery too much.»

The woman nodded: «If it is possible, I would really like to see at least her face. Just a few minutes, I promise.»

*

Lenara Kahn had never felt so happy to find herself surrounded by Cardassian architecture as she did at that moment. For a long time, she had done nothing but recall pain and more pain, coupled with an indefinitely protracted state of abstraction, until she had gradually regained consciousness, finding herself in strangely familiar surroundings.

When Dr. Bashir had appeared at her side, with his affable manner and thoughtful attention, the Trill had finally put all the pieces of the puzzle in place, realising she was on Deep Space 9. Although he was not particularly inclined to dispense information of any kind, probably to avoid further pressure, Bashir had explained the situation to her as quickly as possible, before pointing out: «You need rest and time to recover properly, Lenara. You and your symbiont have been through hell and the procedure I was forced to subject you to was certainly not the easiest…»

With a final smile and a reassuring squeeze, Bashir made to move away from the cot where Lenara had been placed, but the Trill had stopped him with a question: «Jadzia…?» and, at the man’s questioning glance at her, Kahn had elaborated better: «Does she know… that I’m here?» Bashir had shaken his head: «No, she knows nothing.»

At that point, returning to her bedside, he had explained to her that the other Trill had become increasingly withdrawn into herself since her departure from the station, limiting herself to doing the bare minimum during her shifts, but otherwise staying on her own, no longer participating in shipboard life as she once did. She no longer interacted with her close friends, no longer spent hours playing tongo with Quark… she couldn’t be said to be herself, in fact.

Lenara had begged Bashir to be allowed to talk to Jadzia, certain that she would be able to shake the other woman out of the apathy she had fallen into once and for all, but the doctor had vehemently refused to do so, for numerous reasons, not least of which was the emotional reaction of both women, particularly Dax’s, clearly still shaken and hurt.

«Doctor,» an exasperated Bashir had at one point remarked, through gritted teeth, «what I am concerned with, as my patient, is that you recover from the stress you and the symbiont have been subjected to. Secondly,» he added, preventing her from intervening and interrupting him, «I am not convinced that Jadzia would let anyone get close to her for more than just a report. Now,» – and the firmness in his tone suggested that he would not accept any excuses, – «let’s focus on healing. In the meantime, I’ll find a way to… help her on that front as well, alright?»

A few hours later, Lieutenant Ferrari found herself back in the Infirmary, having been summoned there by Dr. Bashir, who had provided little information via intercom. As soon as she spotted the doctor, busy comparing some analyses with one of his subordinates, she approached him and asked: «You wished to see me, Doctor?»

«Give me a moment, Lieutenant, and I’ll be right with you,» Bashir replied absent-mindedly, without looking up from the device on which he was studying some graphs, probably related to one of the many experiments being conducted in the base’s medical labs. All in all he was quick, considering how far the scientist could lose track of their surroundings when left too much to his research.

«Follow me,» he said, shortly afterwards, leaving the DataPADD with the medical technician he had been talking to, motioning for Ferrari to follow him. Unlike the last time they had seen each other, the woman was wearing a typical martial arts uniform, red on red, he’d likely pulled the woman away from some activity in the Holosuite.

«I hope I didn’t disturb you too much,» he told her, as they made their way to a quieter, less busy area of the infirmary. The woman merely shrugged, «Lieutenant Commander Worf has made himself available for Klingon martial arts training sessions. When you contacted me, we had just run out of time. It was no trouble, Doctor.»

Arriving, finally, in his office area, Bashir motioned for her to sit down, taking his own chair himself: «I realise that what I’m about to ask you may seem inappropriate, Lieutenant, but I really need to ask you a favour. At the moment, I see no alternative.» Ferrari motioned for him to continue, settling herself in her chair and crossing her legs, hands resting on her lap: «What can I do, Doctor?»

«I guess you don’t know much about it, given Europa‘s stay in the Gamma Quadrant until a few days ago, but the Trill scientists we got to rescue have been aboard Deep Space 9 for a few weeks, intending to conduct more in-depth studies of the Bajoran wormhole – the Celestial Temple.» This earned him a slight nod from the interlocutor: «Yes, I may have heard about it while I was still aboard that civilian transport. As far as I know, there was a group of three Trills. Prime, the only one left on board the Hikawa Maru, kept reminding us that we had two of the most important scientists on the subject in custody. I gather he was also part of the staff.»

«Dr. Hanor Pren,» nodded Bashir, «one of the team members, yes. The project leader, however, was the Trill woman we managed to rescue a few days ago, Dr. Lenara Kahn. Now, although I’m sure it’s not public knowledge, I think you need to know, before I make my request.» Ferrari sat forward, leaning onto the desk. «She had been having a romantic relationship with a member of our crew.»

Briefly, the doctor gave Ferrari an account of what had happened during their time on the station, accompanied by a couple of quick references to Trill legislation regarding re-association: after previous hosts had been married, it was strongly discouraged for symbionts to continue the relationship in new bodies. It would not give them the desired variety of experiences.

«Let me get this straight, please,» Ferrari intervened, «Dax and Kahn were married when the two were inside a previous host couple. According to the legislation of their homeworld, it is forbidden to re-associate with the previous partner in a new host, right? How does one determine who is really responsible for these emotions, exactly?» The question hung in the air, waiting for an answer that Bashir found difficult, if not impossible, to provide. Although his studies had made him one of the leading experts in Trill physiology, thanks to the stable presence of a Starfleet trill officer aboard the base he served on, he was not as well versed in how the link between the two minds worked, the two beings that, from a certain moment on, went to make up the one.

«I’m not sure I have satisfactory answers to give you, Lieutenant,» Bashir admitted, adding: «Just as I’m not particularly sure they can be found on Trillius Prime. In their culture, it is more important to give the symbiont as many experiences as possible, so anything that deviates from that directive is forbidden.»

The other officer merely nodded: «I guess there’s no easy or right answer. Or for that matter, a correct answer.» Ferrari brought attention back to the matter, asking the doctor the next question: «How can I help? Our oath requires us not to interfere with other cultures, even if they are capable of warp drive and are at an evolutionary stage comparable to ours.» She didn’t quite understand where the conversation was going, why Bashir needed her, but she hoped the man would give her a straight answer as soon as possible.

It also had to be said that she did not personally know the people involved: she was clearly the least likely individual to make such an intervention. Bashir, on the other hand, seemed to think otherwise: «I would say leave the Trill cultural matters in the hands of the Trills, Lieutenant. Otherwise, we will open a debate in which neither of us will be able to come up with a justification that is satisfactory, not only for us, but also and especially for them. Now, what I would like is to avoid giving Dax the chance to be tempted into breaking reassociating, by talking to Lenara. Let’s just say she’s got it pretty bad…»

Gesturing with his right hand and continuing to speak, Bashir motioned Ferrari to get up and follow him, preceding her to the recovery area, where the long-term patients were, followed by the woman, who still had a sceptical expression on her face.