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Even then I Will See You Again

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Disclaimer: Star Trek Deep Space Nine belongs to Paramount and its creators and Producers
as do the characters who appear here or are mentioned. They are not mine. Louisa is my own creation.
References events from various points in the series and was written for SFM2's request in the multi-fandom exchange Every Woman.

 

"Even then I Will See You Again."

Amsha Bashir tries to stay busy, maintain the yard and the house for the day when her husband Richard returns home after serving his stint in Federation prison for his role in having their son Jules genetically resequenced.

It's a decision that even from the very first they never undertook lightly. The strain of having played it close to the vest for all these years put a considerable strain on their relationship; but if she ever once considered that if given the hypothetical chance to go back and do things differently the answer has always been a resounding no.

Of course, there is a certain kind of release in having it all out, when it the knowledge came to head the last time they had seen Jules, no, Julian at work at his post at Deep Space Nine.

She believes that she has come to term with that, even as she beats out the dust from the Oriental rug that usually hangs from the wall of their den, with a whisk. She had purchased it on a whim once long ago when she and Richard used to travel more frequently and when he'd been so keen on jump-starting his architectural career.

The rug is about 60 X 20 and is meld of blues, red, greens and purples, the intricate designs of whorls and geometrics a delight for the eyes; but now, unaccustomed moisture spring from her eyes. and she whacks at the dust with more force than is strictly warranted.

Amsha Bashir knows that that part of that last fateful trip to the station was their way of reconnecting with their son, and of extending a proverbial olive branch and let Julian know that they wanted to reestablish a new type of relationship, a way of moving forward.

In the back of her mind, Amsha, thought, it was also because they were curious exactly what he did on that station besides Julian's rather exuberant if terse explanation that he wanted to be on the edges of cutting-edge 'frontier medicine.

It had been four years and two weeks since he'd left home and gone off to enlist in Starfleet. Yes, she was proud, very proud of the man that he had become,, if it's tainted just a little by the fact that it's breaking the rules; she rubs at her eyes and squares her shoulders, than she guesses that she can learn to live with that fact.

Julian used to write to them infrequently; and when the letters had first begun coming she thought at first that he did so the old fashioned way because he, too, knew that he had to be extremely careful about not letting the secret of his genetic enhancement from getting out.

The risk to them, to him, to his career in Starfleet were too unpredictable; and this way it was an extra layer of protection than going through the public Federation channels.

In these letters he would try to tell her about life aboard the station, about the sheer variety of people and ships that passed through the Bajoran section. It was astonshing just how attention that area of space had attracted since the discovery of a stable wormhole.

Amsha that this discovery was of momentous importance to both civilian and military and exploration ships, although she did not understand much in the way of science behind it. She just know that suddenly the Bajoran sector and its native population had suddenly been thrust into the front and center of Alpha Quadrant socio-economic concerns.

 

She would write back to him telling him about her day, and that she and another woman named Louisa Hernandez; a neighbor who also had a son serving in Starfleet had started a gardening club and had got talking one day and had invited her to join them.

In the process she had learned to live, not just for that someday, but for the moment, and had made new friends. Most recently she had developed a love for orchids which she wanted try to pass on some of fondness on to Julian.

Amsha Bashir smiled fondly and reached up to unpin the Oriental rug from the framework on which it hung. She rolled it up and tucked it under her arm, then walked towards the back porch of the house.

She rested the rug in a corner leaning up against the wall, then sat down at her roll-top desk, looking at a sheet of ecru white paper. She started out with the standard opening line and then thought about including a photograph of her orchids that she had begun from seedlings and were now thriving. Amsha was quite proud of them.

 

Dear Julian, I hope this letter finds you will. As I mentioned in my last letter my gardening club has now moved on to succulents and above all I believe that my absolute favorite are the orchids. I have discovered, much through trial and error, which my friend Louisa is gracious enough to put up with; that the potting mixture that these flowers require is different than other species of succulents.

I've learned that it's impossible to discuss watering without also touching on rooting media, apparently moss is better for orchids but that means moss acts like a sponge and takes a lot longer to dry out than say, bark would. The kind I have is called Catteleya. I think you will appreciate the use of the Greek name. Louisa recommended that I start out with what she called the novice orchid, or Nun's orchids, You can see them in the enclosed photograph.

Three orchids are especially commendable (from a novice's perspective): the nun's orchid (Phaius); a closely related hybrid, Phaiocalanthe; and the tropical lady slipper orchids (Paphiopedilum, not to be confused with Cypripedium, a related but distinct type of lady slipper). They thrive with care similar to that of many houseplants: regular water and average light. If you can grow a ficus or a pothos, you can probably grow one of these orchids. It would be hard to overwater these moisture-loving orchids, which is important because that's perhaps the most common way that people kill orchids.

I wish you well, and you must tell me more about this project of yours that you and Chief O'Brien are building . Your as always, Mother.

A reply came about a month later which talked about how much he loved to hear about her orchids and how Julian appreciated the details, and that if she did not mind his friend Chief O'Brien was married to a botanist who would appreciate using the enclosed photograph as examples for her students attending the stations on-board school.

He also mentioned that he would like to met her friend Louisa, saying how if he could ever get enough leave saved up he try to make it home, but how he did not think it would happen any time soon what with something he called the Dominion having just allied itself with the Cardassian Empire.

Amsha could not help but feel a sudden clenching in her stomach, and a the kind of plummet that she imagined people living in high altitudes or rock-climbers experienced upon hearing 'that news. It could only mean one thing, and just because it had happened yet, it was still a very real possibility, War.

Whoever or whatever this Dominon was, she had learned from Louisa and others that the Dominon was an entity just on the other side of the Bajoran Wormhole. What they wanted and how they were going about it was as mysterious as their sudden advent onto the galactic scene.

Amsha Bashir was worried, very worried about Julian and his safety, for all of their safety; if she were being honest with herself. For, in a way Amsha Bashir could not have explained aloud, she knew almost viscerally that being on the front lines of a potential war, well, it was too much to contemplate. Be well, Julian, and know that even then I will see you again. And know that they also serve who stand and wait. I will see you again come hell or high water. I love you."