Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax, Deep Space 9‘s Chief Science Officer, was sitting alone at one of Quark’s table, a strange fact in itself, considering the long hours she spent there. The Quark’s was often blessed with her patronage, and she did not suffer from lack of tablemates, frequently finding herself gambling with the owner and other patrons, in fact having given the bar her patronage just days before. Even Quark, who usually wasted no opportunity to butt in and make a few too many jokes, had preferred to leave the woman to her drink that day without making any comments, not even a sly remark here or there.
The events of the past few days, running through her head on loop, uninterruptedly, had shaken her to the core and driven her away from everything and everyone, unaware of what she was doing. She had hoped from the deepest part of her heart that Lenara would choose to remain aboard Deep Space 9 with her instead of returning to Trillius Prime, but the other scientist remained firm in her initial decision to return home, along with her two colleagues, effectively nullifying any chance between the two. Assuming, however, that there was a chance at all.
Staring, through the glass in front of her, more as a focal point for her gaze than an object of interest, Jadzia remembered the despair that had gripped her when, having remained on the second level of the Promenade for what had seemed like an eternity, she had seen her hopes completely shattered. When Kahn, after exchanging a few words with Worf and casting a brief glance towards her, had then entered the gangway that would allow her to board the Hikawa Maru. The sense of emptiness that had accompanied her since that moment had led her to push away all those closest to her, indifferent to their attempts to break down the wall she had built to protect herself and her feelings, not realising that, in doing so, her friends’ concern for her only increased.
A discreet cough brought her back to reality. Looking up, she found herself facing Julian Bashir, flanked by a woman unknown to her, wearing the uniform worn by officers serving aboard a vessel command section. On her collar she was wearing the identifying rank of Lieutenant, while in her hand she held a glass of what seemed dangerously like prune juice, Lieutenant Commander Worf’s favourite.
Both appeared to be rather tense and not quite at ease, but out of the two, Bashir’s expression betrayed the most of all the tension he was feeling at that moment. After all, on more than a few occasions he had found himself dealing with the worst side of Trill, basically being thrown a metaphorical fish in the face and driven away in every possible way by the woman’s ever-increasing temper.
«May we sit at your table for a moment, Commander?»
In spite of the discomfort, and the not-so-light air that had been created, the Lieutenant seemed to have every intention of completing what the Doctor had asked for her help with. All this made it quite evident, regardless of whether or not the Trill might be sympathetic to having her solitude disturbed by anyone, friend or foe that she needed help.
Despite the determination with which the question had been asked, Dax tried somewhat to hold off their attention, stalling: «I would really prefer to be alone, Lieutenant…?» She did not hesitate to spare an icy glance at Julian, who made no move to retreat. There was also the fact that she had no idea who the woman in front of her was, bearing in mind that the officer was definitely not part of the complement stationed on board the base. On the contrary, it was plausible that she was part of the crew of one of the Starfleet vessels that, at various intervals, docked at Deep Space 9 for refuelling, personnel replacement or for some brief staff leave.
«Lieutenant Eva Ferrari, helmswoman of the U.S.S. Europa,» the woman replied, unphased at the dry answer Jadzia offered her. After all, from what Bashir had told her, the Trill in front of her was not looking for company and support, so one dry answer was as good as another, as far as she was concerned. Ignoring the outraged look of the officer in front of her, Ferrari took a seat on the only vacant chair at the table, Bashir doing the same snatching one from an empty table nearby, placing his own drinks in front of them – a Ferengi waiter had just left some Tarkalian tea, his favourite, in Bashir’s hands.
«Starfleet Command has recalled us prematurely from our mission in the Gamma Quadrant,» Ferrari added briefly, by way of explanation, «basically because of the Dominion and the ever-increasing threat of the Federation being involved in a possible future military confrontation.»
The tone used was particularly nonchalant, as if they had all the time in the world at their disposal, and seemed to disregard the rather grumpy expression on the face of the Trill in front of her who of no means of the definition, particularly willing to be overly patient especially with a stranger.
Before Dax could make any venomous remarks, so typical of her in recent times, Bashir intervened: «Jadzia, now is not the time. I understand what you’re going through, just as I realise how you don’t particularly want to talk to me or anyone else right now but, please, it is important that you listen to what we have to tell you.» Bashir looked her in the eye, before adding, «You see, I’d rather you didn’t find out from a sterile report. Let us talk, please…?»
With an exasperated sigh, Dax nodded her head to continue, and it was Ferrari, setting her glass down on the table after taking a sip, who picked up the thread of the conversation, with Bashir leaning back in his own chair with a still rather tense expression on his face: «I will try to be as brief and succinct as possible, Commander.» Ferrari paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, after which she resumed speaking in a calm and measured tone: «I understand that a few days ago a group of scientists from Trillius Prime boarded the Hikawa Maru to return to your home planet following a failed experiment concerning the creation of an artificial tunnel that could, upon further study, become stable. One of these scientists is Dr. Lenara Kahn, the new host of the Kahn symbiont, who from what I understand (and correct me if I’m wrong) in a previous incarnation was your wife. Or rather, Nilani – the then host of Kahn – was the wife of Torias – the then host of Dax – before the latter died in an accident.»
«Lieutenant…» Jadzia’s low growl promised imminent danger, but it didn’t seem to particularly faze Ferrari. Who instead continued: «Now, I could simply point out to you how, on a space station such as this, rumours spread rather… quickly, even among those just passing through, such as myself; but that would not be an honest observation on my part, given everything that has happened in recent days.» Huffing, almost annoyed, she took another sip from her own glass before moving on: «As I was saying, the ship where I currently serve, the Europa, was recalled from the Gamma Quadrant earlier than originally planned. Before we were able to set course for DS9 , where we were scheduled to dock to fix a number of things, including refuelling, we were contacted by Captain Sisko and Major Kira regarding an incident involving a passenger transport leaving the base. For a whole host of reasons that I will refrain from listing, we were literally their only hope, which is why we promptly intervened. Fortunately, there were relatively few injured passengers, although some of them unfortunately died as a result of a skirmish on board. Our engineering staff had no trouble repairing the damage inflicted on the vessel, but we were forced to bring aboard a couple of the more seriously injured, who were then transferred to DS9‘s sickbay once we docked. They’re obviously much better off now than they were a few days ago.»
Ferrari was forced to take another sip before continuing. Now it had come to the most complex and delicate part of the conversation, the one in which the fact that among the wounded in question was none other than Kahn herself. Taking a deep breath – underneath, she was not exactly at ease and had expressed her misgivings to Bashir on the matter – Ferrari continued: «To get straight to the point, the details we can leave for later… Dr. Kahn is currently on the station, under the care of Dr. Bashir.»
For a few moments, Dax merely stared at both of them with a seemingly vacant gaze, as if she had not understood or heard what she had just been told. Then, the almost inevitable explosion: «WHAT THE…?» Several customers seated at the surrounding tables turned towards them, with questioning and alarmed looks, before returning to their hushed conversations and consumption after seeing Ferrari and Bashir’s gestures of dismissal and embarrassed smiles.
Jadzia, equally embarrassed, lowered her voice, but the impetus remained the same as she turned to Bashir, asking him why he had not informed her sooner, whether Lenara was all right and how long she had been aboard Deep Space 9, in a torrent of words that seemed to be unstoppable. Finally Julian was able to intervene, taking advantage of a moment when Dax found herself forced to catch her breath: «I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jadzia, but you’ve hardly been approachable lately. Even a little while ago, if it hadn’t been for Eva’s presence, you probably wouldn’t have wanted to hear us out and would have found an excuse to leave me time to deal with it.»
Jadzia huffed, but was still forced to agree with him: if Bashir hadn’t brought Ferrari, or any other stranger for that matter, there’s no way she would talk to Dax about anything In fact, on second thought, she had definitely tried, automatically and practically without realising it, to push them away despite their being a stranger, as indeed she had done up to that point with all her friends and colleagues on the base.
«I’m sorry to have forced you into such subterfuge, Julian,» Jadzia finally said, with evident regret and after a few moments, slumping slightly in her chair. Looking at her carefully, it was possible to see how the last period had particularly exhausted her, although she had still tried, in every way, not to give it particularly much away.
«I guess it was the only way you were able to corner me,» she added, with a bitter smile, looking up at them and, perhaps, really seeing them for the first time. Ferrari merely emptied her glass, while Bashir smiled sweetly: «Yes, indeed. I wanted to make sure I had your attention, at least for the little that I would need to address it. The Lieutenant here with us witnessed first hand the events that forced Lenara and her brother, Dr. Otner, back onto Deep Space 9. And I needed an excuse to talk to you and be heard without being kicked out.»
Ferrari coughed, drawing attention to herself for a moment, and Bashir grimaced, knowing full well where the woman was going with this. «Jadzia,» he began, uncertainly, before gathering his courage and continuing, «I was forced to operate on Lenara and her symbiont…» and he explained in full detail what had happened and why, at one point, he had found himself fearing the need to resort to explanting the Kahn symbiont, in deference to the Trill tradition of always placing the life of the symbiont above that of the host.
They both hastened to reassure Jadzia, as soon as they noticed the almost cadaverous pallor that had covered her face, making her look even more haggard than she actually was: «Lenara has recovered from the operation and with each passing day saw her strength returns. The danger, at least for the moment, is averted: there has been no relapse.»
Dax finally breathed a deep sigh of relief, her shoulders seeming to relax more than they had been up to that point, although she didn’t seem to have lost her acidity entirely: «And now… what exactly? What do you expect to happen? That the Lenara of this time decides to throw away the convictions of a lifetime to stay here with me? Already once, not so long ago, I made the mistake of hoping for the impossible… I don’t want to risk shattering baseless hopes.»
Despite the tone, a different sentiment had crackled in the words spoken, as if Jadzia, in defiance of what had just been expressed, truly hoped that there was another chance to be taken and played out, perhaps better than the previous one.
«Commander…» she tried, at that point, to intervene Ferrari, hoping perhaps to be able to say something that might somehow lift the other woman’s spirits or, again, to add some detail relating to the rescue operation, but was interrupted by another, familiar, slightly fatigued and somewhat breathless voice: «Maybe, Jadzia, it’s time you let yourself hope for once more.»
All three looked up with dismay at the sight of Lenara Kahn, who had approached their table unnoticed. The scientist was, if possible, paler and more frail than she had been in the Infirmary just that morning, where Bashir and Ferrari had left her to rest under the care of one of the doctors on duty on Deep Space 9. He was a member of Dr. Bashir’s staff, under strict orders to keep Dr. Bashirt informed of her condition even when he was off duty.
On their part, Ferrari and Bashir recovered rather quickly – and Ferrari ceded, without a breath, her own seat to the Trill – Jadzia seemed to have momentarily lost the use of speech, her gaze following Lenara as the woman accepted graciously, and perhaps even with a trace of relief on her face, the chair offered to her by the young human.
Kahn’s gaze lingered briefly on the room around her, as chaotic and full of customers as the first time she had dined there with Jadzia, with Julian having volunteered to hold the candle for them so as not to arouse suspicion in his colleagues, his brother Bejal and Dr. Pren. Compared to then, she felt much less uncomfortable, perhaps because she no longer felt the scrutinising and probing gaze of curious or fearful eyes on her being with Jadzia and the possible consequences of their dating.
When she stood over Ferrari, moving to the side of Bashir, who had also stood up, she noticed something different from the last time they had seen each other: the uniform was now the same as the one used on board the station, with a grey turtleneck shirt under a black jumpsuit with a band of colour encompassing the shoulders, indicating the section to which she belonged, in her case the command section; on the grey collar, to the right, the rank now identified her as Lieutenant.
Noticing Trill’s inquiring gaze, Ferrari merely arched an eyebrow, questioningly, and Kahn, with a faint smile, told her: «I remember you in a different uniform, Lieutenant.»
«Fashion is evolutionary, it likes to change, Doctor,» Ferrari replied to her, jokingly, before adding: «I’d definitely say it’s time to head off. Doctor I think the time has come to leave. I’d say the two need a moment to talk to each other without further outside interference… and so we are in the way. I’m sure Dr. Kahn knows what her limits are,» she added, seeing that Bashir didn’t exactly look comfortable losing sight of the woman, «and in case of need, Commander Dax will call for help promptly.»
Nodding reluctantly, Bashir made to follow Ferrari, but both were stopped by Lenara’s words: «Thank you, both of you.» At their quizzical look, she added: «Thank you for… everything. For saving my life and for everything else, without you I wouldn’t be here.»
«We are Starfleet Officers, Doctor,» Ferrari observed, «besides, Dr. Bashir has taken the Hippocratic Oath. It’s just not in our way not to save a life.» She hid a hint of a smile, before adding: «If there is nothing else that I can help with, Doctor…? Commander…?»
«Thank you, Lieutenant, I’ll take it from here,» Kahn replied to her, and the two officers left them to chat, beginning to talk to each other concerned out of hearing distance.
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